David Sawyer

David remembers the first morning when they woke up in their bed in Darrow. Their actual bed. From home. It had turned up unexpectedly a few years ago, as things are wont to do here, and the comfort - emotional and physical - it had given both him and Bryan cannot be underestimated. It was their little piece of home and they had done their best to recreate the rest of the room to match. 

So David thinks nothing of it when he wakes with the same feeling of familiarity. He flings an arm across his eyes, sighing. He can't remember how long he made Bryan stay outside with him to watch for meteors last night but judging by the amount of complaining he'd heard and the number of marshmallows and smores devoured, it was a long time. He lifts his elbow just enough to peek at Bryan's side of the bed, surprised to find that he's already up. One of the kids must have called out, he thinks, stretching and releasing a long groan.

"Bry?"

Tossing off the bed covers, David sits up and runs a hand through his hair. There's light streaming through a window that didn't used to be there. He twists around, the hairs starting to stand along his arms and back of his neck. Their en suite has moved. 

"Oh my god." 

There's a framed photo of them with President Obama. 

"Oh my god, oh my god." This is their house, he confirms, racing to the window and shielding his eyes against the LA sunshine. "Bryan!" Why hadn't he woken him when he'd realised?

The intense rush of exhilaration takes a knock for every empty room David dashes into next. Bryan's not in the bathroom or the kids room or the play room or any of the guest rooms. Even David doesn't even recognise the interiors of some of the rooms. He takes to the stairs, relieved to see a calm looking Smelly stood at the bottom of them. 

"Hey, boy. Is everyone in the kitchen?" It feels like he's racing downstairs to see what Santa has brought him only to find that he's been forgotten, the kitchen completely empty.

"It bumpy," Sawyer warns again, giving David a look. He expects his daddy to listen and to 'strap in' for the ride. With the plush toy Sawyer's given him for safety.

"Why's it gonna be bumpy, Sawy?" David asks, amused and very happy to play along. He's sitting on a chair in the kitchen, an empty one beside him and two more empty ones in front, haphazardly set up like a car. Or spaceship. "I thought you were a good space rocket pilot." 

"I good!" Sawyer insists, determinedly looking around for daddy Bryan to put him exactly where he wants him to go. Charlotte is amusing herself on a playmat in David's periphery. "But it bumpy. Don't worry, daddy. Hold hands and don't worry. Daddy, " he looks sternly at Bryan, "you, um..."  He looks back at the chairs, then to Bryan again. "Come here. And look after daddy because it bumpy. "

 
"Bry! Wine!" David calls out from the kitchen, filling a second large glass almost to the rim with red wine. It's been a wonderful day, if a little tiring, and as much as David loved each and every moment of their kids' excitement, he's relieved they're both now tucked up in bed asleep. Sawyer could barely keep his eyes open as David put him to bed, no energy for a story. He'd asked "Santa come again?", prompting a laugh from his dad, but had fallen asleep before he'd gotten an answer.

"Bry! Wine!"

Even Harvey's ears perk but there's no reply.

"You think he's fallen asleep too?" David jokes, giving Harvey's head a scratch as he passes and heads up the stairs.

A few moments later, he leans quietly against the doorjamb of their bedroom with his arms crossed, a soft smile on his face.

"You keep staring at her and you're gonna turn into a statue."

The morning feels like days ago, the three of them in the pool after Sawyer's swimming lesson, splashing and playing and having fun. Showering afterwards, drying their little boy but pulling their own clothes onto still damp skin. Deciding where to go for lunch when the phone rang. Bryan feeding Sawyer in the back of the car while David pressed his foot to the accelerator.

It's all a blur, really. All three of their lives can now be measured by what happened before today and what happens after.

"--if she loses a bit of weight over the next few days."

David shakes his head, zoning back in. "Sorry?"

The nurse smiles. "You've done this before, David. You got this."

It's been the longest three hours of his life, waiting for her to take her first feed. With no skin-to-skin contact or breast to latch onto, the instinct to eat came slowly, not something he'd thought he'd have to worry about given who her bio-daddy is. But with two short feeds under her belt now, she's getting there. Still, he'd feel happier if she fed again before they left the safety of the hospital.

Giving the nurse a quick hug, David turns back to their private room, twisting the door knob quietly in case anyone inside is asleep.

 
Harvey's worn himself out chasing an obnoxious squirrel in the back yard and barely twitches an ear when David gives him a scratch on the way past. He's panting on his side in the living room, blinking tiredly, wondering where it all went wrong. Smelly is already sprawled out on the couch, waiting for David, and settles into his usual space next to him as soon as he lays down. Bernie's tucked in one arm and squirms on his chest, gnawing on a carrot that he holds by her muzzle.

It's definitely a lazy Sunday evening.

Dogs tended to, David sighs and lets his eyes fall shut, listening to Bryan putting Sawyer to bed on the monitor.

It doesn't happen as often now but David still wonders what it would be like to go home, back to LA and everything they knew. Friends, family, their old jobs, the house they both loved so much. Would they miss Darrow? 

"No," Bryan smiles brightly, shaking his head. "What a silly question, babe."

"I just--I can't--I can't believe it." David launches himself at his husband, tears rolling down his cheeks, bursting with happiness. He wraps his arms around him and grins, stood in the middle of their cactus garden. He sees Smelly padding around indoors and Harvey investigating the prickly plants close by. "I can't believe we're home."

"Careful," Bryan scolds gently, looking down at bundle in the sling. "You'll wake the baby."

"Shh, shh, no I won't." David pulls back, rubbing Bryan's shoulder and peering at her.

"Look, Daddy!" He turns around, seeing Sawyer at the far end of the yard, holding a surgical scalpel. After a moment of wide-eyed fright, he rushes towards him but never seems to be able to reach him.

"Sweetie, put it down. It's dangerous. Sawyer, don't touch it!"

"David!" Bryan calls out, brows furrowed in a deep frown. "Don't leave us."

He looks back.

"We have a new baby," Bryan scowls, pushing the material of the sling back to reveal a wet black and speckled white nose belonging to Bernie.

"Wait... Wait. Where is she?" Dread fills David's chest and he runs into the house, looking for their daughter. He calls out her name, over and over, searching the kitchen, living room, the closet in their bedroom. "Honey, where are you? Bryan, where is she? We left her, we forgot her. Oh my God, she couldn't come with us." Out the window, he sees Sawyer merrily chopping off his fingers, the cactus garden growing into weeds and encircling Bryan's legs. Harvey yelps as the spikes prick his fur. "We have to go back!" He yells, banging on the glass, trying to get Bryan's attention.

"We have to go back! Where is she? Where is she?! Where is she?!"

David wipes his face dry on a towel, staring at himself in the mirror. The day was one to remember for good reasons and bad, and David has spent most of it since the scan focused on the latter, a fact that still makes his chest ache.

Leaving their bathroom in pristine condition - far less disorganised than usual - he pads over to the bed, undoing his watch strap and picking up his glass of water from the nightstand, the antibiotics he'd swallowed a few minutes before feeling stuck in his throat.

As he drinks, he lets his mind wander back. He'd been overwhelmed after the appointment, much more than even he had realized, and he'd let Bryan's brutal honesty get to him. It was unfortunate timing, Bryan highlighting failures at the exact moment David was already feeling insecure, and it had got the better of him. Heightened emotions, elevated anxiety, both of which are fairly foreign to him and both of which he'd tried to hide from Bryan. Maybe if he hadn't, his husband would have had the chance to be more sensitive.

David hadn't understood Bryan's fears about having a boy at first. In fact, he'd been almost dismissive two years ago. He'd gotten there in the end but by then, Bryan had done most of the work himself; David had just helped him over the finish line to see that he could relate to boys. David's fears aren't exactly the same but he thinks he's feeling something similar and is able to empathise with that Bryan now.

Climbing into bed, David fluffs a couple of pillows and leans back, lifting his glasses onto his head and picking up a copy of the baby scan. She's beautiful. And she's made from Bryan, which means David already loves her more than words can say. Were she here with them, she wouldn't want her daddies apart, not speaking, and David doesn't want that either.

David is nervous, of course. But he's also a hundred and one other things that outweigh his fear and the instinct to gather Bryan and Sawyer in each arm and run away someplace safe with them. Pride, that's a big one - he can feel it filling his chest to the point where he has to sigh just to believe it's really happening.

Sawyer's first day at school. Granted, they'll be back in a few hours to pick him up and he's not going to have a stack of homework to get through tonight, much to David's dismay, but it's still a huge step. Another first ticked off a list they seem to be getting through far too quickly.

"Remember what they told us to prevent tears, Bry," he says as he reverses the car into a parking spot. "We have to remain calm and act like everything is normal, so that we don't add to his stress. A quick kiss goodbye, then we hand him straight over and leave. Simple."

 
"And when they leave the forest, that's when they meet Strider, who is..." David waits patiently with an expectant look on his face.

Sawyer, snuggled beside a reclining David on the couch, doesn't even pause for breath as he devours his bedtime milk.

"...actually the heir of Isildur named Aragorn, that's correct. Well done. We like Aragorn," he clears his throat, "for more reasons than one. I mean, he's got the Gandalf stamp of approval..."

Slowly keeling over - with what David is choosing to believe is exhaustion, not boredom - Sawyer rests his head on his father's stomach and lets out a sigh. Extracting the bottle carefully, David stretches to rest it on the coffee table, leaning back and curling a bicep beneath his own head, inadvertently letting his eyes slip shut too. Between work and Bryan's overactive libido, the last couple of days have been tiring. Interesting but tiring.

He's only asleep for a minute, he swears, but when he wakes up, it's to a baby gnawing on drool-soaked creases of his t-shirt. 

"Oh no." A quick check of Sawyer's rapidly reddening gums and cheeks confirms it.

"Bry!" There are equal measures of sympathy and dread in his voice as he calls out. "He's teething again!"

David sighs through his nose as he waits for his glass to fill with water.

What a day. To be fair, he'd been fully prepared for stress and exhaustion caused by Bryan today and that is exactly what he got. Though he'd been expecting twelve hours of unpacking boxes and moving items dozens of times while Bryan stood there with his clipboard, measuring tape and a look of judgement. Not...whatever it is that today had turned into.

Mac 'n cheese dishes sit in the kitchen sink and David briefly considers rinsing them before thinking better of it. They're not going anywhere and will still be there in the morning, he thinks, then rolls his eyes at the thought. If those turn into tiny side dishes while he's sleeping, he won't complain.

Taking a sip of water, he pads out of the kitchen, grateful that Sawyer has settled and he can finally think about bed himself.

David isn't sure who dragged who off the street and into the pet store but he does know that if Sawyer has any allergies to cat hair, now is when they will find out.

That's partly why he makes a beeline straight for the array of puppies for sale. Almost as soon as he lays eyes on them, his face crumples into an expression of longing, his concerns about his son pushed aside for now.

"Bry, it breaks my heart to think that all these dogs were alone on Christmas Day," he mourns, hand balled at his chest. A salesman - the owner, he reliably informs them - interrupts with a story about how a selection of them were actually taken to the children's ward at Darrow General on 25 December to give the sick kids something to smile about.

"They got plenty of attention there," the man assures him. "Especially this tiny rascal," he adds, booping one of the pups on the nose through the perspex glass. They all look healthy enough but some of them really know how to put on the sad eyes. Not this happy little chappy though. "Let me know if you'd like to meet any of them."

Left alone, David takes another look at the rows of boxes in front of him. It feels very unnatural.

"It's like choosing a lobster for dinner."