A/N: Some more cuteness to make you smile. For those who grew up with a great father, what's that like? Lol. For the rest of us with POS deadbeats, does the idea of this also make you jealous? Sad? Hopeful? I am thankful I had a great stepdad, but that came later. So, don't mind me while I heal my inner child by writing fictional stories about fictional characters.
Anyway! Enjoy!
Xoxo
--
Walter sat at the kitchen table, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. The grainy, black and white ultrasound picture lay in front of him, and the delicate silhouette of a baby girl, his baby girl, stared back at him with a kind of innocence that Walter found both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
"How am I going to do this?" He muttered under his breath.
Paige, standing by the stove, looked over her shoulder, sensing the unease that had settled over her husband like a heavy fog. He had been so quiet since leaving the doctor's office. She'd known him long enough to recognize when he was spiraling into his own head, overthinking, analyzing every possible scenario, beating himself for his perceived shortcomings. She also knew that most of his fears were never rooted in logic, but emotion, something he still often struggled with.
"You'll be a wonderful dad, Walter." She said, her voice soft but confident, trying to be reassuring.
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving the ultrasound.
"To a girl, Paige? I'm barely functional when it comes to emotions. What if she needs something I can't give her? What if she's a 'normal' child? I won't be able to relate to her." His voice lowered, almost breaking. "What if I hurt her without meaning to because of that, the way my parents hurt me?"
Paige moved to sit beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his. She understood where his fear was coming from. Walter's carried his parents rejection and misunderstanding like a heavy coat every day, despite what he claimed otherwise about being unaffected by it. Those fears had started surfacing the moment those two blue lines showed up on the stick a few months ago. Feared he would be indifferent to his own children. It was a legacy he was terrified of passing on.
"You've done it before, honey." Paige said. "You've connected with Ralph. You and he have an amazing bond. You're a great father to him."
Walter hesitated, trying to be mindful of how he worded things.
"But Ralph is different. He's like me. His IQ is even higher than mine. We connect on that level. We like the same things. But what if our daughter isn't like that? What if she's just a kid who wants… dolls and tea parties and... emotions?" He rubbed his forehead, clearly flustered.
Paige smiled at him, recognizing the struggle but also seeing the goodness in his heart.
"The fact that you're thinking about this shows how much you care already. You want to understand her. That makes you already a step ahead of your parents." Walter nodded absently but wasn't convinced.
Later that night, after Paige went to bed, he found himself alone in his office, surrounded by books and notes, the quiet hum of his thoughts filling the room. He looked at the shelves, scanning for something, anything, that could help him, could ease his turmoil. His gaze landed on a dusty, unopened box on the top shelf. It had belonged to Megan, things of her childhood that Sylvester had given him long ago. It had sat on that shelf ever since, untouched. Normally, such a time capsule wouldn't affect him, but now, thinking of his own daughter-to-be, it suddenly held such value and meaning.
Megan.
She'd been bright, creative, and full of the kind of warmth Walter had always admired but never understood.
He carefully lowered the box, opening it as though it contained something sacred. Inside were her childhood belongings, an old sketchbook, a music box, some half-worn ballet shoes, photographs, a harmonica. Walter sifted through them, feeling the weight of memories he hadn't touched in years. At the bottom, he found a small, hand-knit blanket, soft and delicate. Megan had carried that thing around for many years. Their grandmother had knit it when Megan was born, and Megan had told him she wanted to give it to her daughter someday. That wouldn't ever take place now, but, he smiled wistfully, imagining giving it to his daughter. Megan's niece. It was a piece of Megan, a piece of love he could pass on.
The next day, Paige came home to find Walter seated on the floor, his brows furrowed in deep concentration. Around him were stacks of books: Raising Daughters, Emotional Intelligence for Parents, and, most surprisingly, a collection of classic fairy tales.
"Walter?" Paige said, suppressing a chuckle. "What are you doing?"
He looked up, his expression somewhere between determined and embarrassed. "Research. I need to understand… well, girls. Princesses, emotions, the whole thing."
Paige knelt beside him, her heart swelling with love as she saw the earnestness in his eyes.
"You don't have to become an expert on princesses to be a good dad, honey."
"I know." He said. "But I want to be prepared. I want her to feel seen and understood. I want to be able to engage in conversation with her, and answer her questions."
Paige smiled, accepting that Walter would come out of this rabbit hole when he was ready.
The next weekend, Walter took things to the next level. Paige walked into the living room to find him sitting at a tiny, play tea table, a toy tea set arranged neatly in front of him. He wore an expression of intense concentration as he poured imaginary tea into plastic cups.
"You're… having a tea party?" Paige asked, completely endeared by the sight, trying very hard to not giggle at the sight, and thankful Ralph wasn't home to laugh at him.
"I'm practicing." Walter said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. "I don't want to get this wrong."
Paige moved closer, kneeling beside him as she gently touched his shoulder, and kissed his temple. "Walter, you don't have to worry about getting it wrong. You're already doing so much."
He looked at her, the uncertainty still in his eyes.
"But what if it's not enough?"
Paige smiled, her voice thick with emotion.
"Walter, you're doing something most people never do. You're stepping out of your comfort zone to make sure our daughter knows she's loved, respected, seen, and appreciated. You're reading fairy tales, practicing tea parties, and thinking about what she'll need from you. That's remarkable."
Walter's face softened, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time in days.
"You really think so?"
"I know so." Paige said, her voice full of certainty. "You're already a wonderful father, Walter, because you care enough to try. You're going to be exactly what she needs, because you're you. And she is going to love you more than anything because of that."
For the first time since the ultrasound, Walter felt something akin to relief. He looked at Paige and then at the small tea set in front of him, the weight of his fears lifting just a little.
"Maybe I'll be okay." He said quietly.
Paige smiled, her hand resting on his.
"You're going to be amazing, and I can't wait to see it all."
--
The sterile scent of the hospital room mingled with the soft beeping of monitors as Walter stood near the window, gazing out at the dark, quiet night. His hands were clenched in front of him, nervous energy coursing through his body. He could hear Paige's soft breathing from the hospital bed behind him, and the occasional coo of their newborn daughter from the bassinet beside her. It had been a difficult delivery, and despite spending years making claims he didn't experience fear, he had never been so scared in his life that he would lose it all, lose them both. Thankfully, all had turned out well, and their daughter had arrived with a fighter's spirit, and his beautiful wife lay resting after giving him the greatest gift of his life.
Megan.
They had named her Megan, after his sister. The weight of it felt both like an honor and a responsibility he wasn't sure he was prepared for. Though, his parents had been deeply moved when they had told them her name.
Paige stirred some, and Walter turned, his eyes landing on the tiny bundle of blankets in the bassinet. His heart swelled with a mixture of awe and trepidation. She was so small, so fragile, yet already held the entirety of his world in her tiny hands.
He walked over, his movements tentative, careful, reached into the bassinet and gently lifted Megan into his arms. Her little face, still flushed from birth, was peaceful as she slept, her tiny fingers curling instinctively around the edge of the blanket.
Walter swallowed, his throat tight as he sat down in the chair beside the bed, cradling his daughter. He had also practiced how to pickup and hold a baby for months, afraid he'd hurt her, or drop her. Paige had actually been on board with helping him on that quest. But, now he held up, so securely. For a moment, he simply watched her, amazed by how something so small could make him feel emotions so big.
"I brought you something." He whispered softly, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. He reached into the bag next to his chair, and pulled out the small, hand-knit blanket he'd found in his sister's box. The blanket, though old, was soft and warm, infused with memories of a childhood spent with her namesake.
With great care, he draped it over Megan's sleeping form.
"This was your Aunt Megan's." He said, his voice trembling slightly. "She was bright, and strong, and kind. You're named after her, and I hope that one day you'll know just how special that is."
His eyes traced his daughter's peaceful features, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you know how loved you are, Megan. I promise I'll try my hardest, even when it's not easy for me."
He paused, his voice catching in his throat.
"And if you're… if you're 'normal'..." He whispered, as if testing the word aloud. "You'll be the greatest normal imaginable. Because you'll be just like your mom." His eyes flicked to Paige, who was resting but listening, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. Walter looked back at his daughter, brushing a finger gently across her cheek. "Your mom is fierce and brilliant and kind in ways that don't show up on IQ tests. She loves fiercely, lives with passion, and is the strongest person I know. If you're like her, then you'll have something even more valuable than intelligence." He leaned in a little closer, his voice tender. "And you'll have a fire in you, just like your Aunt Megan. She was so brave and full of life, and a fighter, just like you. So, whether you're like me, or your brother or like your mom, or your aunt… you'll be perfect. You already are."
He let the silence settle around them for a moment, the meaning of his words lingering in the air. His heart felt lighter, somehow, as though by speaking the words, some of his fear had been released.
"You'll always know how much you're loved." He whispered one last time, kissing her soft forehead. "I'll make sure of it."
Walter sat there for a long time, just holding his daughter, the old blanket wrapped around her like a quiet promise. And for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father, he felt at peace. He didn't have all the answers, and maybe he never would. But he knew one thing for certain: Megan would grow up knowing she was loved, fiercely and unconditionally, by her father who would always try his best.
As he looked over at Paige, who was now watching him with tears in her eyes, he knew that he wasn't in this alone. Together, they would raise their daughter—whether she was a normal or genius, with all the love they could give.
Paige smiled softly at him.
"You're already an amazing father, Walter."
He smiled back, a quiet confidence growing in his chest.
--
Five years had passed in a blink, and the house was filled with the soft sounds of laughter and the clinking of plastic tea cups. Paige paused as she walked toward the living room, something pulling her to stop at the doorway. She leaned against the frame, staying out of sight as she took in the scene before her.
Walter, seated at their daughter's tiny tea party table, was an absurd yet heartwarming sight. He was dressed head-to-toe in what could only be described as princess attire, complete with a pink plastic tiara that sat slightly crooked on his head, a necklace of chunky plastic jewels around his neck, and a makeshift cape made from one of Megan's frilly dress-up skirts. The table, far too small for his tall frame, wobbled slightly under the weight of his elbows as he leaned in with exaggerated seriousness, holding up an impossibly tiny teacup between two fingers.
Across from him sat their daughter, Megan. Her big brown eyes sparkled with delight, her light brown curls tumbling over her shoulders, and her little face alight with a grin that revealed the dimples she had inherited from her namesake. She was radiant in her princess dress, her own tiara perched on her head with the ease of someone who believed she was born to wear it.
"More tea, Princess Daddy?" Megan asked, giggling as she poured an invisible stream into his cup.
Walter nodded gravely, holding the cup with the utmost care as he brought it to his lips.
"Oh, indeed, Princess Megan," he said in a high-pitched, regal tone. "This is the finest tea in all the kingdom. The queen herself would be envious!"
Megan burst into laughter, her little giggles filling the room with a joy so pure it made Paige's heart swell. Walter laughed along with her, the sound completely unguarded, natural. She could see the way he watched their daughter with pride and adoration, the same way he always had, but now there was an ease to it.
Six years ago, he had practiced for this, worried, anxious, and uncertain. Paige remembered vividly the first time she had found him, sitting at that same table, reading books about raising daughters and trying so hard to understand a world that seemed so foreign to him. But now, here he was, doing it with such grace and love, without even thinking about it. It was as if all of his fears had melted away, replaced with the simple joy of being with his daughter.
"Princess Megan…" Walter said, holding out a plate of invisible treats. "Would you care for a royal cookie? Freshly baked by the castle's finest chefs."
Megan took the imaginary cookie with great care, mimicking her father's exaggerated mannerisms.
"Why, thank you, Princess Daddy!" She said, popping the pretend treat into her mouth. "Delicious! The best cookie in all the land!"
Walter laughed, a full, deep sound that made Megan giggle even harder. The two of them were completely lost in their own little world, and Paige couldn't bring herself to interrupt. She watched, her heart swelling with pride and love, remembering how far they had come. She thought about the nights Walter had worried about whether he could ever be a good father to a little girl, whether he would be able to connect with her, to understand her.
But here he was, completely at ease, dressed like a princess, sitting at a table meant for someone a fraction of his size, drinking imaginary tea from plastic cups. And he wasn't just doing it, he was enjoying it, truly present in this moment with their daughter.
Megan looked up at her father with the kind of wide-eyed admiration that only a child could have.
"You're the best princess, Daddy." she said, reaching out to take his hand.
Walter grinned.
"No, you are, my princess!"
"Noooo…" She insisted, shaking her head and giggling. "You're the best princess ever!"
Paige couldn't help but smile at the exchange, her eyes brimming with tears. She knew that Walter was more than just a good father. He was an amazing one. He had done more than just learn how to connect with his daughter. He had fully embraced it, pouring himself into this new role with the same intensity and dedication he brought to everything else in his life. But now, it wasn't work or research. It was pure, unconditional love.
She stayed there for a moment longer, soaking in the sight of them together. Walter, who had once worried that his high intelligence and low emotional quotient would make it impossible for him to be the kind of father their daughter needed, had proven to be more than enough. He had stepped out of his comfort zone, not just for himself, but for their daughter, and in doing so, had become the kind of father who didn't just show up, he was present, fully and completely. The kind of father that she herself had grown up with.
Paige quietly slipped away from the doorway, leaving them to their tea party, her heart full and warm. As she walked down the hall, she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips. Walter had grown into fatherhood in the most remarkable way, and she knew their daughter would grow up not only knowing how much her father loved her, but seeing it in every little moment they shared.
And in that, Paige thought, was the greatest gift Walter could ever give their daughter.
