Chapter Text
One of the cons of being a new parent is that you spend so much time running around after your child that you end up exhausted. Even worse when you have to balance having a job and being a parent, the plight of the single parent.
Pascal Curious, a single father, was currently dealing with such a plight. The sun had set on Strangetown and he lay his head on the computer keyboard, snoozing peacefully in his living room.
Then, the sound of crying filled the air, waking the father. “Mmmh…” he groaned, lifting his head off the keyboard. “Daddy’s coming, Tycho…”
He haphazardly forced himself out of the chair and through the house, headed to his room where the baby was crying. However, he failed to stay upright and tripped on seemingly nothing, falling over and hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes.
“Daddy has fallen over,” Lazlo remarked from nearby, and Pascal heard footsteps approaching him.
“Ough. Ow.”
The loud crying persisted, and Pascal attempted to force his drained body up off the floor. He felt an arm gently slide itself under one of his arms and pull his torso upright.
That arm belonged to Lazlo, who pulled him to his feet. Pascal’s glasses slid right off his nose and fell to the ground, making a clattering sound.
“You look half dead, dude.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.”
At that moment, it occurred to him that Tycho had stopped crying. When he looked up and squinted at what was in front of him, he realised his other brother was gently cradling the alien baby.
Pascal felt immense gratitude. “Thank you, Vidcund.” He reached his arms out, zombie-like. “Give… give me the baby.”
“You need sleep,” Vidcund replied in a quiet voice. “Lazlo and I can take care of Tycho. We’re his uncles, after all.”
“Yeah, Pas. Go get some sleep. You need it.”
“Nnnngh…” was all Pascal could say. Lazlo continued to walk him to his room, and once they got within range of the bed, the older brother practically threw himself onto it without a second thought.
Pascal awoke to beams of sunlight streaming through the windows and doors in his room, and as he opened his eyes, he remembered the night before and quickly got out of bed to check on his son.
Tycho was fast asleep in his crib, looking utterly at peace, which soothed the man. Good. He’s okay.
He quietly exited his bedroom and put his glasses on, blinking as he adjusted to being able to see. As he approached the kitchen, he was surprised to see his friend, Nervous Subject, sitting in the living room watching TV with his brothers.
“Nervous?” Pascal asked, bemused.
The tall, pale man turned to look at him and the corners of his lips curved into a small smile. “Good morning.” He stood up.
Instinctively, Pascal approached him, holding his arms out for a hug. Nervous leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. Pascal reciprocated, patting him on the back a couple of times gently.
“How… How long have you been here?” Pascal asked once they broke apart.
“Umm… maybe an hour.”
“Uh—why didn’t you wake me?” Pascal grilled his brothers indignantly.
Lazlo and Vidcund looked defensive, but before they could speak, Nervous cut across them. “I didn’t want to wake you up. They said you were really tired.”
“Ohh… I’m sorry,” Pascal apologised and sighed. He’s been sitting here for an hour…
Nervous shook his head. “Don’t be.” He glanced back at the TV. “This show’s really interesting.”
The older man craned his head to look at the TV. The show in question seemed to be a rerun of a soap opera that, as far as he knew, neither of his brothers watched.
“It’s just what was on,” Lazlo explained, shrugging. “I think the main guy’s wife is dead, but also not dead…?” He tilted his head in confusion.
Pascal shook his head, not knowing what to say. “I’m gonna go freshen up. Nervous, did you, uh, did you want anything to eat?”
“I am a little hungry, now that you mention it.”
“I was gonna make pancakes,” Lazlo interjected.
“Pancakes sound good,” Vidcund added.
After properly waking up for the day and having some breakfast, Pascal sat next to Nervous in the kitchen while his brothers continued to watch TV, though this time it was a different show.
“What brings you here, Nervous? I mean, you’re always welcome, but… any reason you’re here specifically?” Pascal gently probed, checking in on him.
“I just wanted to get out of the house,” Nervous said, though there was more than he was letting on. There was always more than Nervous was letting on. His life with the Beakers was less, much less than ideal, and though the man was secretive about it, over time, the Curiouses had slowly learnt more and more about Nervous’s living situation.
“That’s okay,” Pascal said reassuringly. “Hey, do you wanna go play some chess?”
Nervous nodded, and the two left the kitchen.
Later, Pascal watched as Nervous lifted one of his pawns and moved it forward, threatening his king. As he surveyed the board and the cornered king, he realised Nervous had beaten him.
“That’s checkmate, right?” Nervous asked, looking up at him.
A grin slowly spread across Pascal’s face. In an attempt to hide it, he bit his lip, but it did no good. “Yep. I’ve gotta hand it to you, Nervous, you’re getting good.”
The other man’s face turned triumphant and he smiled. “Hahaha. Gotcha.”
Pascal grinned wider and held his hand out. “You got me. Good game, Nervous.” He may or may not have thrown the game and intentionally compromised his king. It was worth it to see his friend smile.
Nervous took his hand and shook it, nodding. “I like chess. It’s… hard. In a fun way.”
“Challenging things are all the more rewarding when you succeed,” Pascal observed before checking his baby monitor. He was prone to checking every few minutes, just to see if Tycho had woken up yet. “I’m gonna go check on him,” Pascal said, getting up out of the chair.
Nervous followed suit. “Can I come?”
“Of course!”
They walked through the house together to Pascal’s room. Once they were by the crib, the father gently leaned forward over it, looking at his son. As always, Pascal couldn’t help but smile. He’s so cute, sleeping so peacefully.
The room was silent for a moment, then Nervous began to whisper. “You always look so happy when you look at him.”
Pascal turned to look at the man adjacent to him. “It’s part of being a dad,” he whispered back. “Sure, it’s tiring, especially when you’re single, but in moments like these…” he looked back at Tycho. “It really feels worth it. Like you made the right decision. Well, I must admit, my pregnancy caught me a little off guard, heheh, so I don’t know how much deciding I actually did, but…”
“Nonetheless, you decided to raise him,” Nervous pointed out, a wistful look in his eye.
Pascal smiled. “You’re right, I did. And how could I not?” He looked back at Tycho fondly.
The boy made a small noise and wriggled a little, beginning to wake up.
“Oh, we’ve probably woken him up.” Pascal reached into the crib and gently scooped his baby up, cradling him in his arms. “Hi there, Tycho,” he cooed.
Tycho opened his black eyes and blinked at his father.
Pascal smiled lovingly. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you? Daddy will get you your bottle, don’t worry. Look who’s here! It’s Nervous!” he continued, moving so that he faced the man.
“Hi, Tycho,” Nervous said quietly, waving.
Pascal watched as his son stared at Nervous curiously, then slowly began to smile.
Nervous smiled back.