Discovered in the Holly and the Ivy, Day 37: Parental Epiphany
Parental Epiphany
by Verlaine
Doyle woke from a sound sleep as he always did these days, instantly alert and ready. The soft snuffling whimper from down the hall was all it took to get him moving. Having a toddler in the house, he thought ruefully, did more to sharpen up the reflexes than any of Macklin's refreshers ever had.
Beside him, Bodie stirred and grumbled.
"It's Pip," Doyle murmured, running one hand soothingly across Bodie's shoulder. "I'll see to her."
Bodie subsided, turning his face into the pillow and snorting incoherently before falling back to sleep. Doyle knew it wouldn't last; Bodie might be slower to wake but once his subconscious registered Doyle was gone he would be up and on the prowl.
Another whimper had him on his feet, sliding into dressing gown and slippers. The bedside clock read twenty to two in the morning. Epiphany had slept through the night for close to two years, and wasn't prone to night terrors, so for her to be up at this hour was not a good sign.
Doyle padded down the hall, pushing open the door of Epiphany's room. By wan reflection of the hall light he could make out Epiphany huddled by the bed, holding the Dr. Who t-shirt she wore as a nightdress away from her body with both hands.
"Sicked up, Uncle Ray," she whispered with a miserable little hiccup.
Doyle took in the tangled bedding and the little puddle by the rug. "You have, haven't you, poppet," he said. "Let's get you up and out of this mess, shall we?"
He yanked the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around the child before lifting her into his arms.
"Don't feel good," Epiphany warned.
They barely made it to the loo in time.
Ten wretched minutes later, the worst seemed to be over. Doyle was rocking Epiphany in his arms as she sobbed, trying to decide if just getting in the shower with her would be the simplest way to clean them both off, when he heard Bodie's footsteps in the hall.
"Thank God," he whispered fervently.
He watched in shock as Bodie took one look from the door and froze, eyes widening, then turned and stumbled away down the hall.
"Bo-" Doyle bit back a yell. At the volume he was likely to let loose, he'd frighten Epiphany, who was upset and miserable enough as it was.
"Bodie?" Epiphany twisted her head around. "Want Bodie!"
"Bodie's gone for something to settle your tum, luv. He'll be back in a minute."
Or I'll bloody well know the reason why.
Epiphany sniffled and squirmed, trying to pull away from him. "Bodie!"
Doyle felt a slow burn of anger start. Epiphany liked him well enough, but she adored Bodie. It was Bodie whose hand she reached for when crossing the road, Bodie she instinctively turned to when frightened or in pain. Until five minutes ago, Bodie had never once turned away.
Epiphany struggled again, and Doyle tightened his hold. "No, sweetheart. You have to stay here. We don't want any more accidents."
Manoeuvring them both into the bath was tricky, with Epiphany protesting tearfully, but he managed to get them both sluiced down, and simply left the dirty clothes in the tub.
Deal with it later was a motto that had served them both well in child-rearing. With that in mind, Doyle made a long reach for the linen cupboard and pulled out a stack of bath towels. He folded one into a pad to sit on, and built a little nest for Epiphany on the bathroom floor with several more. By the time she was dried and wrapped up, she'd begun to nod off.
Doyle sat, soothing and humming to her, until her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. Then, knees creaking, he got up and went in search of his partner.
He found Bodie hunched on one of the kitchen chairs, his head in his hands. A bottle of Lucozade and a tumbler sat on the table in front of him, but that seemed to be where he'd come to a halt. When he looked up, his face was so grey that Doyle thought for a moment Bodie was about to be ill as well.
"What did you two eat?" Doyle demanded, his mind going back through the previous day. "You didn't take her to that dodgy gelato place, did you?"
Bodie shook his head.
"Then what is it? You never turned up your nose at a dirty nappy before, so what the hell's wrong with you tonight?"
Bodie took a deep breath. "Bad memories."
The quiet words stopped Doyle short, his anger banking down. He'd always been surprised that Bodie had so few problems with what they now called PTSD, the dark days usually worked out in exhausting physical activity. Something warned him to tread carefully.
"Can you talk about it?"
The words began to spill out, almost as if Bodie had needed permission to speak. "We were in the Congo. It was the last few months I was with Krivas and his mob, and things had settled down for a bit. We were bivouacked by this little village that hadn't seen much of the fighting, so the people weren't scared of us or angry with us. Once the kids got to know us, they were all over us. They had this lumpy old bag they used for a football, and we'd play with them for hours."
You would, thought Doyle. He had no difficulty picturing Bodie chasing up and down a swath of packed red dirt, whooping with laughter as the kids darted around him.
"It was just a country village, you know? On a little stream. They washed their clothes and watered their animals and got their drinking water all from the same place. No well, no sewer-"
Bodie broke off, and Doyle felt a chill touch his back.
"Everybody seemed healthy, but they must have been crawling with worms and parasites. One day, one of the kids got sick, and another, and another. Spread like wildfire." Bodie stopped, a hand clamping over his mouth.
"Typhoid?"
Bodie shook his head. "Cholera. Inside of a week, half those kids were dead. Their guts just ran out-" He stopped again, breathing heavily. "We'd been vaccinated, but Krivas wouldn't let us give them the antibiotics we had. Not sure how much it would have helped anyway, but it would have been something." He gave a brittle laugh. "Walking in there just now, the smell-felt like I could turn around and see the jungle right behind me."
Doyle sternly censored his first reaction, and his second. Epiphany's immediate needs warred with Bodie's long-term ones, and he had to find a way to balance them.
He rested his hands on Bodie's knees. "Listen up, now." He waited until Bodie could look him in the eye. "First of all, it's not cholera. Pip's got a stomach bug, nothing else. A couple of hours and some Lucozade, and she'll be over it and back to matching you plate for plate. Got it?
"Secondly, this isn't bloody Africa. We've got clean water by the tanker-load, and the chemist up the High Street, and the paediatrician is what, fourth on your speed dial? Third?" Bodie nodded. "And if all else fails, there's a hospital not more then fifteen minutes up the motorway."
Bodie nodded again.
"But none of that is as important as this: she needs you. She'll make do with me, but it's you she's crying for, and even if it damn well is cholera, you'd best get off your arse and get in there. Now."
Bodie's face flushed. "It's not-"
"I know, sunshine. Comes with being a parent."
Bodie pulled himself to his feet, breathing deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. He picked up the Lucozade and marched down the hall, shoulders rigid. Doyle followed, his heart twisting with a mixture of grief and pride.
At the door to the loo, Bodie paused for one more breath and then went in. "Eel?" Bodie crouched by the little ball of misery and gently brushed her hair back. "How're you feeling?"
"Bodie?" Epiphany roused. "Want a cuddle."
"Yeah. How's my girl, then?" Bodie slid down to the floor and scooped Epiphany, towels and all, into his lap. "Scared Uncle Ray, did we?"
Epiphany nodded solemnly. "Made a mess. Sorry."
"That's what the washing machine is for, luv. Want to try a sip of this?" Bodie held out the Lucozade.
Epiphany looked at the glass doubtfully. "Don't feel good."
"Just a sip or two," Bodie coaxed. "It'll make your tum feel better."
Epiphany turned her head away and cuddled closer into his lap.
"Never mind." Ray sat down beside them, and ran a finger lightly along her cheek. "Have a little sleep, and then we'll see."
Bodie squirmed, trying to get more comfortable, and Doyle shoved another towel in his direction. By the time it was arranged to his satisfaction, Epiphany was asleep again, her head pillowed on Bodie's arm and her legs sprawled across Doyle's knees.
"Should we get her back to bed?" Bodie whispered.
"No point," Doyle replied. "She's probably got less than an hour before it starts again. Might as well short-circuit some of the mess and upset."
Bodie blanched slightly, his arms tightening. "You're sure we don't need to call someone?"
"If she's not better by morning, we'll sound the alarm. But right now there's nothing anyone can do we can't do just as well."
"Sorry. About before," Bodie said shame-facedly. "Can't remember the last time I lost it like that. I dunno, it was just like being back there. I knew it wasn't cholera, couldn't be, but I could see all those little faces-"
Doyle gently rubbed his back. "Trust you to go through CI5 and all, and end up with flashbacks now."
"Hostage to fortune." Bodie looked down at the child in his lap. "When it was just me-or even me and you-it didn't seem so bad. Now I sometimes wonder how we make it through a day."
"One day at a time, like every other family." Doyle nudged him slightly. "Here, shift her a bit and get your head down. I'll wake you when things get interesting again."
"Nah, not sleepy any more." Bodie smiled, a shadow of his usual grin but still genuine. "Won't be the first night watch we've kept."
"Just the most important," Doyle said, and took his partner's hand.
Title: Parental Epiphany
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes, please
Disclaimer: Not mine. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Another installment in Epiphany series.
by Verlaine
Doyle woke from a sound sleep as he always did these days, instantly alert and ready. The soft snuffling whimper from down the hall was all it took to get him moving. Having a toddler in the house, he thought ruefully, did more to sharpen up the reflexes than any of Macklin's refreshers ever had.
Beside him, Bodie stirred and grumbled.
"It's Pip," Doyle murmured, running one hand soothingly across Bodie's shoulder. "I'll see to her."
Bodie subsided, turning his face into the pillow and snorting incoherently before falling back to sleep. Doyle knew it wouldn't last; Bodie might be slower to wake but once his subconscious registered Doyle was gone he would be up and on the prowl.
Another whimper had him on his feet, sliding into dressing gown and slippers. The bedside clock read twenty to two in the morning. Epiphany had slept through the night for close to two years, and wasn't prone to night terrors, so for her to be up at this hour was not a good sign.
Doyle padded down the hall, pushing open the door of Epiphany's room. By wan reflection of the hall light he could make out Epiphany huddled by the bed, holding the Dr. Who t-shirt she wore as a nightdress away from her body with both hands.
"Sicked up, Uncle Ray," she whispered with a miserable little hiccup.
Doyle took in the tangled bedding and the little puddle by the rug. "You have, haven't you, poppet," he said. "Let's get you up and out of this mess, shall we?"
He yanked the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around the child before lifting her into his arms.
"Don't feel good," Epiphany warned.
They barely made it to the loo in time.
Ten wretched minutes later, the worst seemed to be over. Doyle was rocking Epiphany in his arms as she sobbed, trying to decide if just getting in the shower with her would be the simplest way to clean them both off, when he heard Bodie's footsteps in the hall.
"Thank God," he whispered fervently.
He watched in shock as Bodie took one look from the door and froze, eyes widening, then turned and stumbled away down the hall.
"Bo-" Doyle bit back a yell. At the volume he was likely to let loose, he'd frighten Epiphany, who was upset and miserable enough as it was.
"Bodie?" Epiphany twisted her head around. "Want Bodie!"
"Bodie's gone for something to settle your tum, luv. He'll be back in a minute."
Or I'll bloody well know the reason why.
Epiphany sniffled and squirmed, trying to pull away from him. "Bodie!"
Doyle felt a slow burn of anger start. Epiphany liked him well enough, but she adored Bodie. It was Bodie whose hand she reached for when crossing the road, Bodie she instinctively turned to when frightened or in pain. Until five minutes ago, Bodie had never once turned away.
Epiphany struggled again, and Doyle tightened his hold. "No, sweetheart. You have to stay here. We don't want any more accidents."
Manoeuvring them both into the bath was tricky, with Epiphany protesting tearfully, but he managed to get them both sluiced down, and simply left the dirty clothes in the tub.
Deal with it later was a motto that had served them both well in child-rearing. With that in mind, Doyle made a long reach for the linen cupboard and pulled out a stack of bath towels. He folded one into a pad to sit on, and built a little nest for Epiphany on the bathroom floor with several more. By the time she was dried and wrapped up, she'd begun to nod off.
Doyle sat, soothing and humming to her, until her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. Then, knees creaking, he got up and went in search of his partner.
He found Bodie hunched on one of the kitchen chairs, his head in his hands. A bottle of Lucozade and a tumbler sat on the table in front of him, but that seemed to be where he'd come to a halt. When he looked up, his face was so grey that Doyle thought for a moment Bodie was about to be ill as well.
"What did you two eat?" Doyle demanded, his mind going back through the previous day. "You didn't take her to that dodgy gelato place, did you?"
Bodie shook his head.
"Then what is it? You never turned up your nose at a dirty nappy before, so what the hell's wrong with you tonight?"
Bodie took a deep breath. "Bad memories."
The quiet words stopped Doyle short, his anger banking down. He'd always been surprised that Bodie had so few problems with what they now called PTSD, the dark days usually worked out in exhausting physical activity. Something warned him to tread carefully.
"Can you talk about it?"
The words began to spill out, almost as if Bodie had needed permission to speak. "We were in the Congo. It was the last few months I was with Krivas and his mob, and things had settled down for a bit. We were bivouacked by this little village that hadn't seen much of the fighting, so the people weren't scared of us or angry with us. Once the kids got to know us, they were all over us. They had this lumpy old bag they used for a football, and we'd play with them for hours."
You would, thought Doyle. He had no difficulty picturing Bodie chasing up and down a swath of packed red dirt, whooping with laughter as the kids darted around him.
"It was just a country village, you know? On a little stream. They washed their clothes and watered their animals and got their drinking water all from the same place. No well, no sewer-"
Bodie broke off, and Doyle felt a chill touch his back.
"Everybody seemed healthy, but they must have been crawling with worms and parasites. One day, one of the kids got sick, and another, and another. Spread like wildfire." Bodie stopped, a hand clamping over his mouth.
"Typhoid?"
Bodie shook his head. "Cholera. Inside of a week, half those kids were dead. Their guts just ran out-" He stopped again, breathing heavily. "We'd been vaccinated, but Krivas wouldn't let us give them the antibiotics we had. Not sure how much it would have helped anyway, but it would have been something." He gave a brittle laugh. "Walking in there just now, the smell-felt like I could turn around and see the jungle right behind me."
Doyle sternly censored his first reaction, and his second. Epiphany's immediate needs warred with Bodie's long-term ones, and he had to find a way to balance them.
He rested his hands on Bodie's knees. "Listen up, now." He waited until Bodie could look him in the eye. "First of all, it's not cholera. Pip's got a stomach bug, nothing else. A couple of hours and some Lucozade, and she'll be over it and back to matching you plate for plate. Got it?
"Secondly, this isn't bloody Africa. We've got clean water by the tanker-load, and the chemist up the High Street, and the paediatrician is what, fourth on your speed dial? Third?" Bodie nodded. "And if all else fails, there's a hospital not more then fifteen minutes up the motorway."
Bodie nodded again.
"But none of that is as important as this: she needs you. She'll make do with me, but it's you she's crying for, and even if it damn well is cholera, you'd best get off your arse and get in there. Now."
Bodie's face flushed. "It's not-"
"I know, sunshine. Comes with being a parent."
Bodie pulled himself to his feet, breathing deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. He picked up the Lucozade and marched down the hall, shoulders rigid. Doyle followed, his heart twisting with a mixture of grief and pride.
At the door to the loo, Bodie paused for one more breath and then went in. "Eel?" Bodie crouched by the little ball of misery and gently brushed her hair back. "How're you feeling?"
"Bodie?" Epiphany roused. "Want a cuddle."
"Yeah. How's my girl, then?" Bodie slid down to the floor and scooped Epiphany, towels and all, into his lap. "Scared Uncle Ray, did we?"
Epiphany nodded solemnly. "Made a mess. Sorry."
"That's what the washing machine is for, luv. Want to try a sip of this?" Bodie held out the Lucozade.
Epiphany looked at the glass doubtfully. "Don't feel good."
"Just a sip or two," Bodie coaxed. "It'll make your tum feel better."
Epiphany turned her head away and cuddled closer into his lap.
"Never mind." Ray sat down beside them, and ran a finger lightly along her cheek. "Have a little sleep, and then we'll see."
Bodie squirmed, trying to get more comfortable, and Doyle shoved another towel in his direction. By the time it was arranged to his satisfaction, Epiphany was asleep again, her head pillowed on Bodie's arm and her legs sprawled across Doyle's knees.
"Should we get her back to bed?" Bodie whispered.
"No point," Doyle replied. "She's probably got less than an hour before it starts again. Might as well short-circuit some of the mess and upset."
Bodie blanched slightly, his arms tightening. "You're sure we don't need to call someone?"
"If she's not better by morning, we'll sound the alarm. But right now there's nothing anyone can do we can't do just as well."
"Sorry. About before," Bodie said shame-facedly. "Can't remember the last time I lost it like that. I dunno, it was just like being back there. I knew it wasn't cholera, couldn't be, but I could see all those little faces-"
Doyle gently rubbed his back. "Trust you to go through CI5 and all, and end up with flashbacks now."
"Hostage to fortune." Bodie looked down at the child in his lap. "When it was just me-or even me and you-it didn't seem so bad. Now I sometimes wonder how we make it through a day."
"One day at a time, like every other family." Doyle nudged him slightly. "Here, shift her a bit and get your head down. I'll wake you when things get interesting again."
"Nah, not sleepy any more." Bodie smiled, a shadow of his usual grin but still genuine. "Won't be the first night watch we've kept."
"Just the most important," Doyle said, and took his partner's hand.
Title: Parental Epiphany
Author: Verlaine
Slash or Gen: Slash
Archive at ProsLib/Circuit: Yes, please
Disclaimer: Not mine. No copyright infringement intended.
Notes: Another installment in Epiphany series.