Chapter Text
“Darling, Ed and I are just… what are you doing?”
Izzy looked round from where he was stood at the worktop, flour splatted in dots and star shapes over his black hoodie, black jeans, smudged onto his face where he’d pushed up his glasses trying to read the recipe, into his growing silver-grey hair where he’d pushed it back off his face.
“I’m making bread,” he replied, somewhat matter-of-factly, with a hint of his classic ‘obviously Bonnet’ tone, before he was turning back to concentrate on what he was doing, which in that moment was on the second knead after the first prove. Ivan was only a few feet away, laid out on the floor, head on his paws and deep, love-filled eyes fixed on Izzy’s every move.
“Okay,” Stede replied, like it completely was, but Izzy could hear that he was walking towards him across the tiled floor. He was wearing his slippers, Izzy could recognise that sound in his sleep now. Even if it had only been eleven months since he came to this house. “Any particular reason?”
“Ed was whining.” He felt it didn’t need more than that. Stede would know. Ed was whining about how they kept buying packaged, pre-sliced bread from the supermarket and it just wasn’t the same and Izzy had learnt how to make bread years ago when he was searching for hobbies and he’d been really good at it but he hadn’t committed, and blah blah blah, the usual Edward Teach spiralling whinge. Stede had heard it all too.
Of course he had. Ed was like a dog with a bone, once he got his mind onto something. Stede had now reached Izzy, placed a hand on the small of his back, and was leaning over his shoulder to look at the dough. “We have a stand mixer, my love. It would be a lot easier for you.”
Shaking his head, Izzy was reaching a floury hand up to take off his reading glasses so he could look at Stede properly. “I like doing it like this.” There was something incredibly satisfying about kneading dough into submission, watching the rise, watching the bake, knowing it was all done by his hands and his hands only. Using a mixer felt like cheating. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Just that Ed and I were popping to the unit. Wondered if you wanted to come?”
“Mm, this needs a second prove. Let me just finish and I’ll get changed.” His words were absentminded, a little distant, clearly concentrating as he continued with the motion of stretching out the dough with the heel of his hand, pressing it away from himself, folding it back in, repeating. It was only when an arm wound slowly around his waist that it broke his trance, and he was looking to his side again at Stede. “Hmm, sorry?”
Chuckling gently at how occupied his mind seemed to be, Stede pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Take your time, Ed is still in the shower.”
Now he said it, Stede’s hair was brushing damp against his neck, and he had that freshly showered warmth to his body heat. And the scent, that new lavender soap that was now everywhere in the house that Izzy had grumbled about but had immediately fallen in love with.
“So I have hours then,” he quipped back, making Stede laugh again softly.
“He was just getting out when I did,” he replied, though they both knew that meant nothing.
Miraculously, Ed did show his face downstairs in less than twenty minutes, strands of his hair damp from the shower, the rest of it tied up out of the way in a messy bun. Izzy was just pulling on another jumper, having changed out of the flour-covered one and leaving it on the side for later when he tackled the next stage. Ed caught him at the exact moment he was reaching up to tug it on, t-shirt riding up, exposing his stomach. Instantly there was a hot hand on his skin, and as he pulled the jumper over his head, he looked up at Ed and narrowed his eyes.
“You got up while we were still asleep,” Ed muttered, like he was unimpressed, like he was sulking.
“So?” Izzy prompted, but what Ed was getting at was more than obvious.
“You missed a great shower, mate, that’s all I’m saying,” he teased softly, dipping his head to press a kiss to his lips.
“You’re insatiable, Edward,” Izzy muttered in response, returning the kiss but then playfully pushing him away with a hand on his chest. “You had one of your boyfriends in the shower, take that as a victory.”'
“Actually I had him,” Stede quipped, flashing a knowing grin at them both. A grin Ed melted at, and Izzy of course just rolled his eyes.
“I’m not even…” He chose to trail off at that point, looking down at Ivan. “Right you, second morning walk? Well, car ride, and then walk around the unit.” Ivan sat up quickly, ears immediately on alert, standing and stretching briefly before circling Izzy and coming to sit at his side.
And then Ed was his other side, presence a little more gentle this time, less teasing, less commanding, more comforting. “Second?” he prompted. “When was the first?” The real question on his lips wasn’t that, of course. It was only just gone nine on a Sunday morning. Izzy had already tidied up the kitchen from the night before, made bread dough and let it prove once, walked Ivan, and then done the second stage of the bread. And he’d done work emails in between, Ed would’ve seen them on his phone from where he was copied in to some of them. He would’ve started early for that.
“About six this morning,” Izzy replied quietly, glancing back up at him. “He woke me.” He nodded down to Ivan, scratching the top of his head as he spoke. “Wasn’t the usual nightmare. Didn’t know what to make of it. Couldn’t stop thinking, so I got up.”
Nodding, Ed leant in to press a kiss to his temple. “Okay,” he said quietly, comfortingly. “Did you write it down?”
“Yes,” Izzy muttered with a slight exasperated sigh. Charlotte’s latest scheme, since his nightmares had shifted recently, since his general anxiety day to day had lessened but then would peak at weird, unexpected moments. Since he’d had two panic attacks, completely, in his head anyway, without any cause or reason. They were trying to find the triggers for all these things. He’d been recording it all for three weeks now, and he couldn’t see a pattern. But maybe she would, eventually.
Ed didn’t have to reply again. He’d only repeat himself, Izzy suspected. The usual ‘you can still always wake me’ and ‘give Charlotte’s suggestions a try’ and everything he always said to try and help. It did help, really, to an extent anyway.
Reappearing in the doorway, Stede was now clutching his keys. “Are we ready?” Nodding, Izzy headed out into the hallway and grabbed Ivan’s harness. Obediently, Ivan sat in front of him so he could slide it on, clipping it up and grabbing the lead.
Climbing into the back of the car, Ivan of course immediately made himself comfortable across Izzy’s lap, using him as a prop to watch out of the window as the countryside and trees rushed by. Izzy alternated between watching with him, and checking a few things on his phone, including replying to Lucius who had sent him a message at three that morning.
The joys of a newborn, he supposed.
So he sent a quick reply, saying he’d go and see them again the following day, and to let him know if they needed anything. They saw each other every few days, now they had Arlo, and there was a tiny part of Izzy that loved it more than he would ever say. Of course, he never held back on the joy seeing them happy bought him. And he hadn’t once ever held back on how much he loved Arlo, already, after only a few weeks. But he found himself loving what he supposed could only be described as the parenting element of it. The moments when they handed him the baby and the bottle because they were just too exhausted. Or the moments when he’d respond to the cries on the monitor because they had literally just sat down, and he’d rock him back to sleep in his arms. The moments he thought he’d never get to experience.
There was something so joyous about a life being shaped right in front of him, and it being shaped in the right hands.
Whilst Stede and Ed faffed about in the unit (faffed was the only correct word to describe it, Izzy never quite understood what they did), he took Ivan around the block, on lead, and then released him off the lead once they got back into the warehouse again. When he came trotting back over with a ball in his mouth, taking from the small basket of toys he now had there, they played a very tame version of fetch for twenty minutes whilst Stede gestured at a bunch of furniture and Ed nodded along seriously.
Whatever it was, it was making them happy. That was all that mattered.
Izzy had sat himself up on the desk in the corner, and that was where he was throwing the ball from, Ivan running back to him like clockwork and dropping it back into his hand, only to repeat the process. When, for maybe the fortieth time, he’d plopped the ball into the open, awaiting hand, slightly covered in slobber, but it didn’t get thrown instantly, he stopped. Sitting himself in front of Izzy, he titled his head, watching, trying to get a read.
The creeping anxiety was back, residual from the nightmare that morning. His eyes darted over to Ed and Stede, but they were poring over some paperwork, conversation intense, and… no, he didn’t need to disturb them. Instead, he dropped the ball, let it roll away, but rather than following it Ivan was then nosing into his open hand. “Good boy,” Izzy whispered softly, voice shaking. “Come on.”
Leading him outside, Izzy tucked himself around the side of the unit, where he couldn’t be seen from the car park, the limited green space before the fencing stretched out in front of him. The air still had a nip to it, but the sunshine was trying to peak through the classically spring day, that post-Easter slump before May where everything hadn’t quite fallen into cycle yet, and the weather wasn’t quite nice enough consistently to trust. Sinking down to the floor with his back against the brick, Ivan laid in his lap straight away, as he always did, physical weight and warmth to ground. Izzy dived his hands into his fur and stroked slowly, rhythmically. As long as his breathing stayed deep and regular, Ivan wouldn’t go and alert to them. So that was all he needed to do – deep regular breaths. It was keeping him calm, that thought, so it was serving the purpose. Who cared if it was for the wrong reasons? He was remaining calm. That was the net positive. The fact it was in an attempt to hide it from them was of no consequence to the result.
And he did. He remained calm and breathed deeply until the feeling past, until he was no longer nauseous, until the threatening migraine penetrating the base of his skull no longer stung sharp and instead returned to the regular ebb of headache. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Ivan’s head, who licked his cheek in return. “Thank you,” Izzy murmured to him softly, like he did every time. “Come on, let’s go back before they notice.”
As he rounded the corner, Ed was pulling the doors shut, Stede’s keys jangling in his hand as he tried to find the right one. “Where did you get to?” Ed enquired, tone light and non-evasive. But his eyes said something else.
“Ivan was getting restless. Just went around the block again.” He shoved his still slightly tremoring hands into his pockets.
“Mmhmm,” Ed replied, and though he didn’t say anything, he raised his left hand, the hand that was clutching Ivan’s lead, as if to say ‘you went for a walk without this?’.
Shit.
But before Izzy needed to find an excuse, a defence, Stede was making a triumphant noise that he’d found the right key and was distracting Ed by bumping into his side to get to the lock, and the subject was dropped for now.
On second thoughts, maybe he’d go and see Lucius that afternoon. Keep out of the way.
Once they got back, Izzy was instantly busy with the bread, knocking it back, placing it in the tin, baking it to a lovely golden, crunchy crust. He didn’t know what part of the house Ed and Stede had disappeared to, so he simply left a note on the side, next to the loaf on the cooling rack.
‘Gone to see baby Spriggs. Enjoy this x’
He’d always taken Ivan over with him, since the day they’d bought Arlo home. He wanted Ivan to get used to him, wanted him to learn to be extra careful, gentle, with the baby. It had been love at first sight. Ivan had found a secret, yet-to-be-unlocked, absolutely above and beyond intense stage of protective the second he’d met Arlo. Instantly his sniffs were gentle and caring, his movements were slow, his licks of Arlo’s head were careful, his reaction when Arlo started crying was profound. Izzy didn’t think he possibly had any more protective love in him to give, and then there was this.
Pete had seen Izzy pull up in the drive, so had opened the front door, and Ivan was gone in a shot, inside the house. By the time Izzy had got in himself, Ivan was already laid on the sofa next to Lucius, who had Arlo laid on his chest, fast asleep, and Ivan was staring at him with the widest, most adoring eyes, that Izzy could’ve been jealous.
Could’ve, but he wasn’t. Because he was just as smitten.
“Hey you,” he murmured softly to Lucius, sinking down on the sofa the other side of him and leaning in to kiss his cheek. He then reached out and carefully ran the side of his finger, feather-light, over Arlos’s impossibly soft cheek. “Someone had you wide awake at 3am so is fast asleep at 3pm?” he teased.
“Don’t,” Lucius groaned, though of course it held no heat at all. “He was so grumpy this morning, nothing would settle him. In the end he fell asleep on Pete in the fucking rocking chair in the nursery. So Pete now has a sore neck, none of us have had more than four hours of sleep, and Fang chose the perfect time to go and stay with his mum for a couple of days.”
Izzy scoffed, lifting his arm for Lucius to settle in against his side, hand protective on Arlos’s back so he didn’t jostle him. “So you’re loving it then?” Deadly serious statement. With only one inevitable answer.
“Honestly, Iz, I didn’t know I could love anything on this earth this much.”
Grinning wide, Izzy pressed a kiss to his hair, reaching out his hand to rub gently over the tiny baby’s back. “I can tell.”
“Cuppa?” Pete offered from the doorway.
“Please,” Izzy replied with a smile.
“Babe?” Pete prompted to Lucius, who raised his sleepy gaze to his husband.
“I don’t even know,” he replied with a soft laugh, making Pete chuckle himself and with a nod disappear off to the kitchen. “I also didn’t know I could ever be this tired and still somewhat function, but that’s another story.”
“The human body is amazing,” Izzy reminded him gently. “Especially when the protective instinct is involved.”
Pete bought them both a cup of tea, and told them he was going for a shower and maybe a nap whilst he got half a chance. With a knowing smile, Lucius was nodding, tipping his head up to meet Pete’s lips as he leant in for a soft kiss, before leaving the room. They sat in silence for a while, just watching the gentle rise and fall of Arlos’s breathing, accompanied by the slower rise and fall of Lucius’s chest where he was happily laid on. “So, what brings you here today?” Lucius asked quietly, then stifled a yawn to the back of his hand.
“Nothing in particular, just wanted to see you guys,” he replied, also keeping his voice low out of fear of disturbing the sleeping infant.
“You said you were coming tomorrow,” Lucius pushed gently, turning his head to look at Izzy. “Did it come back again?”
Blinking at him for a second, Izzy's brain quickly decided lying was useless. So he nodded, sipping the last mouthful of his tea and leaning forward to put the mug on the coffee table, taking Lucius’s from his hand to put down too. “Nightmare, early hours of this morning. New again. Anxiety attack whilst we were out at the unit.”
“Okay.” Lucius shifted a little so he could look at Izzy better, protective hands resting carefully on Arlo as he did. “Still haven’t told them?”
“Ed knows I had a nightmare. Think he suspected something was going on when we were out, but he didn’t push.”
“And how long are you going to attempt to keep up the act before you realise it’s stupid and unnecessary?” Arlo stirred then, a cute grumble leaving his lips, high-pitched, making Ivan’s ears prick up and raise his head. He seemed to just get resettled on Lucius’s chest though, and drop back off.
“I’m not… it’s not like that,” Izzy tried to insist. “I’m not actively hiding it, I’m just…” Lucius narrowed his eyes at him, eyebrow raised in sassy rebuttal. “Fine, I guess I am actively hiding it. I’m just trying to deal with it, okay? Show I can deal with it myself. They don’t need to worry. They can go and do things and leave me and it isn’t a problem. If I tell them about this, now, they won’t want to do that. I need to prove I can look after myself.”
With an exasperated sigh that he kept to a minimum so he didn’t disturb the baby on his chest, Lucius was tipping his head back against the sofa. “How do we have the same conversation every time, Iz?” he muttered, lifting his head again to look at him. “What things are they going and doing without you? What things where they can’t look after you too?”
“I dunno… whatever they want. Normal things. I don’t…” He ran a hand over his face, eyes fixed on Arlo. One good thing about having a baby around, especially a sleeping baby, was the conversation had to stay calm, low level, minimal frustration. “Stede was talking about a holiday. And they should do that, it would be great for them. They won’t go if they think I can’t cope.”
“Stede was talking about a holiday?” Izzy nodded in confirmation. “Surely he was talking about all three of you?”
Izzy blinked back at him like that hadn’t even crossed his mind as a consideration. He was silent, for quite a while, before he was shaking his head. “No, he can’t have been,” he mumbled. “Who would look after Ivan? And the bar whilst you two were off? No, he was talking about them.” He shifted under the scrutiny of Lucius’s gaze, disbelief in the younger’s eyes.
“You hadn’t even thought about it including you too, had you?” Well, no, of course not. Not before Lucius had said it. And he realised now how that looked, sounded, so he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter.
“Do you want me to put a wash on or something? Or cook you something you can reheat for dinner?”
“Iz…” One hand left Arlo’s back, landing on Izzy’s arm, enough of a warm touch for him to jolt. “You’re slipping again, babe. You have been for a couple of weeks. I was hoping you’d notice, and you were dragging yourself back but…”
Izzy cast his eyes down to the hand on his arm, taking a slow, deep breath, keeping himself calm for the sake of the baby. “I know… I know I am,” he replied, voice near a whisper. “I just thought that… well, it’s coming up to a year and… it still doesn’t feel real. If the bubble was going to burst, about now would be the time.” Arlo stirred again, a small noise, little chubby legs stretching slowly under the blanket that was laid over him. “Just… with each milestone I… I don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”
“Hopes for what?”
“For… everything,” he confessed quietly. “The future. Stability.” His eyes followed Arlo’s movements as his bright blue eyes blinked awake. “Hello little one,” he cooed softly, voice instantly gentler and kinder than he would ever use towards himself. “Did you have a good nap? Are you going to be hungry now?” Reaching out, he caressed over his cheek again softly. “I’ll go and warm you a bottle, you stay there with daddy.” He pushed himself to his feet, where Lucius then caught his wrist in a gentle grip.
“Iz… you need to talk about this more.” Nodding slowly, Izzy looked down at where his fingers were wrapped around his wrist.
“I know. I’ll… I’ll talk to them. And Charlotte.”
“Good,” Lucius sighed softly, letting go so Izzy could step away. “Oh and Iz…” He turned back, looking at Lucius expectantly. “I can’t deal with the word ‘daddy’ coming out of your mouth, so let’s park that one and not pick it up again for a while, yeah?”
The smirk that pulled over Izzy’s lips was genuine, the eyeroll mandatory, and he was shaking his head as he walked away into the kitchen.
Izzy stayed to give Arlo his bottle, happily taking him from Lucius to let him go and shower, tucking himself up on the sofa, arranging Arlo carefully in his arms to feed him. “You know, I never really knew if I’d be good at this,” he murmured softly to him, eyes locked with the baby-blue staring back at him. “Guess I’m doing okay.”
Silence washed over the room for a good fifteen minutes, only the sound of their combined breathing where Ivan had rested his head on Izzy’s thigh, watching them both, the little intense breaths as Arlo drank, and Izzy’s calmed inhales, slow exhales, with Arlo pressed to his chest unable to do anything else. Placing the now empty bottle next to them on the arm of the sofa, Izzy lifted him, grinning at the little content noise that left him as he laid him against his shoulder, rubbing his back. “Honestly, kid, you’re gonna have such a good life.” Turning his head, he pressed the softest of kisses to his ear. “You’ve got so many people to protect you. You won’t ever have to hide under your bed from your parents for safety. You won’t have to leave home at sixteen. You won’t have to start working while you’re still in school. You won’t have to be terrified about who you fall in love with. No one is ever going to hit you…” He sighed softly, sinking down a little more on the sofa. “We’re all going to be here, always. And that’s going to be amazing. You’re so loved…” He said the last words with some level of longing that he knew he shouldn’t feel. He was loved. He knew he was loved. It was only his own stupid…
“He’s going to love you just as much. Like we all do.” Izzy’s eyes shot up to Lucius in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, hair wet from the shower, and an accusatory eyebrow raised. Like he knew what Izzy was thinking. Of course he knew what Izzy was thinking. But then his expression dropped, more gentle, and he was moving into the room. “You hid under the bed from your dad?” Izzy met his gaze again, a knowing look, and then dropped his eyes to Ivan, rubbing his head gently before standing, Arlo held still against his shoulder by his hand on his back.
“I should get home. Unless I can do anything else to help?”
“You’ve done more than enough, Iz, like you always do,” Lucius replied fondly, reaching out and carefully plucking Arlo from Izzy’s grip, grinning wide at him. “Hello darling, did you enjoy some time with Uncle Iz, hmm?” He kissed his forehead before cradling him close, stepping towards Izzy. “We’ll come for dinner next Friday?”
“Yeah, definitely. Think Olu, Jim and Archie are coming too?” Lucius nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Izzy’s cheek. “See you later, Lu.” Izzy smile gently at the kiss, hand rubbing his arm as he leant to press a kiss to the back of Arlo’s head. “See you later too, kid. Let you dads sleep tonight, okay?” Lucius chuckled softly and muttered something under his breath about ‘chance would be a fine thing’. “Come on Ivan, let’s go.” Jumping off the sofa, Ivan followed Izzy out of the house, Izzy glancing back and waving at Lucius through the window before getting into the car. Ivan settled on the passenger seat, happily panting. Izzy chose to not think, to just drive, turning the radio up in the hopes of distracting himself enough to get home.
Sticking to his side like glue, Ivan must’ve been one of the biggest markers in the world that Izzy wasn’t 100% when he stepped back into the house. He could hear the sound of the TV pouring from the living room, the sound of Marmalade scratching at the post in the kitchen. He padded to the doorway, standing there for a moment, even when Stede paused the TV, and both he and Ed dragged their concerned gaze up to him, frowns on their expression, a familiar worry. Taking a breath, Izzy reached up and spun his wedding ring on the chain around his neck, eyes dancing between them.
“I need to…” He faltered, and Ed shifted towards the edge of the sofa, like he was ready to gather Izzy in his arms any second. He was. He always was. “Brains fucked. Nightmares are back… random fucking anxiety attacks. I don’t know, it’s… it’s coming up to a year and it’s like…” Ed was on his feet then, moving carefully towards Izzy, still giving him space to finish. Instead, Izzy stared up at him, glancing behind him to Stede who had also stood from the sofa, before meeting Ed’s eyes again. “I’m being stupid, I’m hiding it from you. And I don’t want to. I shouldn’t and I don’t want to.” It was the steadiest sentence he’d said, defiant, solid.
Nodding at his words, Ed was in front of him now, reaching out and running his hand down his arm, taking his left hand, lacing their fingers and brushing his thumb repeatedly over his double ‘x’ tattoo. “What do you want, baby?” he coaxed gently. Just the fact they’d even got this far was progress, even now. They had been settled, the most settled Izzy had felt in years. It didn’t mean it had all just stopped. It didn’t mean he could just immediately articulate his needs. But he was managing quicker and quicker with every passing week. Healing wasn’t linear. Sometimes it was two steps forward and ten steps back. But the fact he was stood there now, ready to admit he was hiding, and that he didn’t want that anymore was… huge.
There was a weak smile flashing his face, eyes falling to the ground, and when he looked back up again, Stede was stood there too, next to Ed, hand reaching to their entwined digits. “I need to talk.” There were nods of agreement. “But I want… I want cuddles and kisses and whatever the fuck Stede does with that very careful sensory balance thing where he puts on lights at the right brightness and burns the right candle and buries me under a weighted blanket…” He trailed off, meeting Stede’s eyes, who was smiling widely at him, reassuring him that was all possible. “And maybe sex, but we’ll cross that bridge...”
Ed scoffed, chuckling softly and winding his other arm around Izzy, tugging him closer. “Not much then?” he teased softly, and whilst that could’ve been dangerous, it was gentle enough that it made Izzy smile, his eyes fluttering closed as Ed pressed a kiss to his temple. “Come on baby, let’s go upstairs.”