They've had Lilly for maybe a month.
So far everything has been great. Lilly has been the very picture of a perfect baby. Quiet, happy, well-behaved-she wakes up when she's supposed to and goes to sleep when she's supposed to and smiles at everyone and it feels like they're living in their own personal fairy-tale.
Mitchell couldn't be happier. Neither could Cam, at least until one night right as they're settling her down for bed she starts screaming. Not crying, but full-on screaming like she's in pain. Frantic, Cameron immediately snatches her back up out of the crib, checking to see if she's been pinched or scratched-anything to suggest a reason for this sudden outburst.
The screaming doesn't stop. They check her over for any sort of injury but can't find anything wrong. Distraught and terrified, they end up in the emergency room. They spend a total of six hours there so a tired-looking doctor can tell them their kid is fine, that sometimes babies just cry.
The screaming continues all the way home, and Cameron is near tears as they try to figure out what to do. Mitchell calls Claire and gets the same answer they got from the doctor-sometimes babies cry.
"This isn't crying," Cameron insists when Mitchell passes on his sister's entirely unhelpful advice. "She sounds like she's being tortured."
"We'll make an appointment with her doctor first thing in the morning." Mitchell promises.
They spend the rest of the night keeping a close watch, taking turns holding her. They try singing and rocking and bedtime stories, but nothing works. By morning they are both exhausted.
The only good thing the morning brings is that Lilly's pediatrician has a sudden cancellation and can see her at ten. Lilly still hasn't stopped crying.
She stops briefly in the car on the way to the doctor only to immediately start again as soon as they put the car in park.
She also stops long enough for the pediatrician to look her over and tell them she's fine. The woman also sends them home a bunch of pamphlets about caring for an infant, including how to console a crying child.
Lilly starts back up the second they reach the car and continues to cry for the rest of the day. Mitchell is ready to pull his hair out. Against his better judgment he calls his dad, who suggests scotch as a solution. Whether he means for them or for her he never specifies. Gloria simply says the same thing everyone else has, that sometimes babies cry.
The get the same advice from Cam's parents.
By Sunday night Mitchell is also near tears. It's been three days of almost non-stop crying, and neither of them have slept more than twenty minutes in that amount of time. There's no way Mitchell can go to work tomorrow.
"What if-" Cameron hesitates, then forges on. "What if we asked Claire to take her. Just for a couple hours? Do you think she would?"
Mitchell wants to. He really wants to. "We can't just dump our baby on someone else just because things have gotten hard."
"We wouldn't be abandoning her-" Cameron counters. "Look, I know parenting is hard. But I haven't slept in three days. Neither have you. We're barely functional as it is."
They both need a break. Mitchell's head has been throbbing for the last twenty-four hours. He can't think straight.
"I don't know if I can bear to ask. I can just see Claire coming to the rescue, all smug and 'I told you so.' She already judges us for not being perfect, as if she and Phil did everything right when their kids were this little."
Ten minutes later he gives in and makes the call.
"Still crying?" Maybe it's just the fatigue, but Claire almost sounds sympathetic. "Need a break?"
"Please," Mitchell can feel the tears pricking at his eyes.
"Drop her off. I should be home in half an hour. She'll be fine with Phil until then."
"Thank you so much."
Phil answers the door in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, but by this point Mitchell is too busy trying hold it together to care. The man looks at Mitchell, then at Cam, then at the baby screaming in her carrier. "Hey, guys, come on in. What can I do for you?"
Mitchell and Cameron exchange a glance. "Claire said she could watch Lilly for a bit," he says, following Phil inside.
"Well, she's not home yet-she's still out running errands with the kids-but you're welcome to leave her here if you're in a hurry." He smiles at Lilly as if she isn't still crying at the top of her tiny lungs. "Where are you headed?"
Mitchell hesitates, reluctant to admit to their shortcomings, and wondering what a man like Phil will think. He honestly can't imagine his brother-in-law ever needing to be away from his own children, not even for a few hours.
"She's been crying non-stop all weekend." Cam says before Mitchell can come up with anything. "We just needed a break."
"Ah," Phil looks down at Lilly and nods. There's no judgment there, which is very Phil. "Well, she's in good hands. Go home, get some sleep, and don't worry about a thing."
That makes Mitchell worry just a little bit, but his eyes feel like sandpaper, and everything hurts, and Claire promised she'd be home soon.
"Thank you so much," he says.
They go home and head straight for bed. Mitchell is unconscious before his head ever hits the pillow.
He wakes up groggy and still slightly miserable, but no longer wishing for the sweet release of death. His headache has died down to an almost gentle throbbing. He opens his eyes and just lays there for a moment, breathing in the silence.
He checks the clock and realizes he's been asleep for the last eleven hours. He really owes Claire. They asked her to watch Lilly for a few hours, not overnight and well into the next morning.
She hasn't dropped the baby off though, and over the phone she sounded understanding more than anything else. Mitchell figures she won't mind if they take just a few more hours to themselves. It's not like she wouldn't call if there were a problem.
He takes a long, hot shower. When he's finally finished, he heads to the kitchen in his bathrobe to start some coffee and try to find something easy for breakfast.
Cameron surfaces at about the same time the coffee is ready. They eat a quiet breakfast together, after which Cam hops into the shower while Mitchell does some tidying up-something they have done very little of over the last three days.
He can feel the last of the tension dissipating and feels about ready to tackle another day when he goes to check his phone and realizes it's dead.
"What?" Only a little bit concerned, he plugs it in to charge while he gets dressed.
Five missed calls pop up when he turns the phone back on, all from Claire.
"No, no, no, no, no-"
"What?" Cam's out of the shower. "What's wrong?"
Rather than answer, Mitchell lets the first message play.
"Hey Mitchell, it's Claire. Don't freak out, okay? There was a little accident-nothing serious, but we're at the hospital making sure everything's okay."
Cameron makes a mad scramble for some clean clothes while Mitchell tries to remember how to breathe. He's just about to yank the charging cord out of his phone when the second message starts.
"Lilly's fine. I just realized my last message may have made it sound like something happened to her. I actually tripped on the curb leaving the grocery store and hit my head on the way down. Alex called Dad and he insisted on dropping me off at the hospital."
Mitchell remembers to breathe and drops onto the bed in relief just as the next message starts.
"Right. Me again. Lilly will be fine with Phil, so don't worry. They're keeping me overnight for observation though, so Dad went ahead and took the kids. I think they're with him?"
"Good news, minor concussion, sprained wrist, sprained ankle. For me. Not Lilly. You know, sometimes babies just cry, Mitchell. It doesn't mean you're a bad parent or anything. Any chance you could take the kids to school tomorrow? I guess they're still at Dad's. It was pretty late by the time they left..."
"Hey, so Dad took the kids to school. They are going to discharge me this afternoon, and he said he'd pick me up then, too. Phil's not answering his phone, but I'm sure everything's fine..."
Mitchell's not entirely fully rested brain finally catches up. "Lilly's been with Phil this whole time," he says.
It's a race with no winners to the car, neither one of them fully dressed, both of them terrified.
The drive over is spent trying to unsuccessfully convince each other that Lilly's probably okay.
"He's got three kids of his own, they were all babies at some point," Cameron points out. Mitchell tries not to think about how many times Luke has gotten his head caught in the banister while they're over, but he's about as successful with that as he is at trying not to wonder how often it's happened when they weren't.
"But that was with Claire to keep an eye on things," Mitchell says. "Remember when he lost Luke?"
He's lost all of his kids at least once. Sometimes without even realizing it.
"The man is practically a giant kid himself." Cameron adds.
They reach the house in record time. Cameron barely puts the car in park before they're both out the door and racing across the lawn. They stop at the door and notice a yellow post-it note right as Mitchell raises his hand to knock.
Don't knock. Just come in. Thanks, Phil.
Expecting the worst, Mitchell opens the door and steps inside, Cameron on his heels. He stops in his tracks a second later. It takes a full minute to process the sight before him.
His brother-in-law is standing in the middle of the living room, still in the same pajama pants, holding Lilly to his chest with one arm while his free hand is raised to his lips in a silent warning not to disturb her.
There are dark circles under his eyes as if he hasn't slept, and his hair is a bit wild. He's humming softly, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, and moving in a not quite rocking, not quite dancing pattern. His hand drops down to caress the back of Lilly's head, her forehead pressed against his neck.
Her eyes are closed, one hand curled into a tiny fist near her face. Lilly is soundly, mercifully asleep.
There's a smile in Phil's eyes when he sees them, but he doesn't say anything, just continues humming and rocking their child.
And suddenly Mitchell remembers Claire talking about how Phil was the only one who could get Alex to sleep when she was first born, and how he carried Luke practically everywhere when he was born. He remembers the man holding a crying Haley when she fell and somehow managed to skin both her hands and knees when she was five.
Cameron's still standing there, staring, his expression adoring, but not daring to risk disturbing their baby. After an awkward moment he and Mitchell tiptoe quietly into the room, and Mitchell wonders if he should offer to take her.
Cam holds his hands out and Phil shifts as if to hand Lilly over. The baby stirs and lets out a soft whimper, and Phil freezes.
The door opens far more softly than is normal for the Dunphy house. They barely hear it close. A moment later Claire enters the room.
"Sorry," she mouths. She looks at her husband and smiles, then at Mitchell and points to the kitchen. Mitchell and Cam both follow her out of the room, leaving Phil alone with Lilly once more.
"You both look terrible," she says in a softer tone than Mitchell has ever heard from her. "Did you get any rest?"
"We passed out, actually," Cam whispers. "Slept through the night. Came over as soon as we got your messages."
"Is it okay to leave Phil like that?" Mitchell asks. "I mean, we should probably take Lilly back, since we're here..."
"He's fine. And don't worry, we've had three and they've all survived." Claire opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. When that doesn't help, she adds, "Phil's actually great with babies."
"To tell you the truth, I'd forgotten," Mitchell admits.
"He used to do that with Alex when she was born. Well, all of them, really. They were very loud babies, and it was often the only way to get them to quiet down." Claire smiles. "You know I'm not going to give you a hard time if you need a little help now and then, right? Babies are hard. Kids are hard, no matter how much you love them. And we all need help now and then."
They fall silent as Phil enters the kitchen. Claire untwists the cap and removes it from her water bottle before offering it to him. He accepts it gratefully and empties half the bottle in one go.
"Feeling any better?" she asks, and he offers a non-committal half shrug with his free shoulder in reply before handing her back her water.
He stops humming for a second, looking down at Lilly without moving his head, and relaxes. "She fell asleep a couple of hours ago," he says, and Mitchell is surprised that a man who always sounds just a little too loud for any given situation can also be so quiet. "Still can't put her down, though. Or stop moving. Or sit down." He's still smiling a little as he says all this, though, so hopefully he doesn't mind too much.
"We really appreciate this," Cameron whispers. "We were at our wit's end."
"When Haley was six-months old she refused to be put down for two weeks straight. Cried every time we tried."
"We had to do everything in shifts," Claire supplies. "And we couldn't trade off too often, she didn't like that either. It got so bad Phil fell asleep upright at the table with her in his arms one day. Hungry?"
This last is apparently directed to Phil, who offers the tiniest of nods in reply.
"Toast?"
Another fraction of a nod.
"He caught food poisoning at some business dinner Friday. Might not want to try that new place we were talking about."
"Half the office ended up sick," Phil offers.
"He could barely get out of bed Saturday," Claire puts a comforting hand on the shoulder that isn't supporting a baby.
"And you still took Lilly for us," Cameron says, teary eyed. "Even though you were sick and suffering yourself."
Phil just smiles. "I was fine. And anyway, you looked like you needed a break."
The toast pops up out of the toaster, nearly startling them all. Lilly continues to sleep. Claire grabs a slice and holds it out to her husband, who stoops just enough to take a bite without seeming to realize he's doing it.
Toast eaten, they head back to the living room. Phil manages to perch on the arm of the couch without disturbing Lilly, leaving room for the other three adults to sit.
"So what happened yesterday?" Phil asks, still keeping his voice low. "Jay said you had a concussion and that they were keeping you overnight?"
"I fell." Claire admits. "You know that curb immediately outside the grocery store?"
"The one that I trip over every time I leave the building? That thing is a menace," Phil confirms.
"Stumbled, hit my head on the way down. What happened to your phone?"
"Forgot to charge it when I got home Friday. I think it's still in my jacket from dinner."
"I could tell you were struggling when you came to bed," Claire says. "I was really hoping it wasn't the flu."
"Thank god," Phil agrees. "We almost didn't make it last time."
"Was that when you guys quarantined for like, two weeks straight and refused to so much as answer the door?" Mitchell asks. "You missed Mom's birthday and Mother's Day. She was furious."
"We kept passing it around," Claire explains. "Luke had it twice, Haley had it twice, Alex and I had it three times. Even Phil had it."
"Spent four days throwing up and the rest of the time trying not to think about everyone else throwing up," Phil admits. As far as Mitchell's seen, Phil doesn't really get sick. He does have a terrible gag reflex though. There's actually a decent sized list of things that will make him throw up-the smell of wet paint among them.
He's not sure, but he thinks the man is getting louder the longer this conversation goes on. So far not loud enough to wake Lilly, thankfully, but he's definitely not as quiet as he was back in the kitchen.
They talk for a while longer, and Mitchell is fairly certain that Phil is, in fact, slowly getting louder. He also leans just a little farther back each time he says something. It doesn't take long before Mitchell starts to worry about him slipping off the arm of the couch, but Claire and Cameron either haven't noticed or don't share Mitchell's concerns.
Claire gets up right as Mitchell's about to say something, and Phil slides into her abandoned spot as if this has been his plan all along, somehow without jostling Lilly. The next hour turns into a game of Phil trying to slowly reposition Lilly into Mitchell's arms without waking her. It's a long, painfully nerve-wracking process for Mitchell.
It doesn't help that Phil doesn't even seem to realize what he's doing. The man does seem to be a natural when it comes to this baby, at least.
Lilly finally settles into his arms, and Mitchell breathes a sigh of relief. Phil carefully stands up, stretches, and then heads upstairs. Claire settles back down beside her brother.
"He's just going to go put some clothes on," she says. "He managed a shower yesterday before I went out, but barely made it into a pair of pants before he collapsed onto the bed."
"Sorry he got stuck with Lilly," Mitchell apologizes. "If I had known-"
"He would have said something if he minded," Claire tells them. "You would have known if he wasn't up to it."
"You sure?"
"Saturday he was curled into the fetal position, delirious. He called me 'Mommy' twice. You would have known."
Five minutes later Claire excuses herself to check on her husband. She's back fairly quickly.
"He's passed out on the bed," she tells them. "Look, I'm not trying to get rid of you guys, but I have to go pick the kids up from school soon, and Luke is going through a phase where I'm pretty sure it's physically impossible for him not to yell indoors."
"I already feel like we've taken advantage," Mitchell admits, daring to stand, and muttering a silent prayer of thanks when it doesn't disturb his daughter. "Thank you so much."
"It's not a problem," Claire says. "Really. Any time."
"Tell Phil thank you as well," Cameron says as he also gets to his feet.
Lilly sleeps the entire trip home, all the way from the car to the apartment, and continues to sleep as they take her to her room and lay her in her crib.
Alternate title: In which Mitchell and Cameron haven't slept in three days, ask Claire to take Lilly, and Phil ends up watching her instead.
Disclaimer: Modern Family does not belong to me.
