"What?" He seems groggily puzzled for a few seconds before he reaches up and tugs at the violently shortened tendril. Which makes him wince. "Oh. This. Ow. Yeah, this was just, uh...It happened along the way." Whatever that means.
"I've got a baby, is what's going on. And I'll be fucked if I know what I'm supposed to do with it now."
She finally leaves Ramon's side, with one glance back to her son, before rushing towards Frank, past him...and into the room beyond.
There, in a messy nest of bedding in a dresser drawer on Frank's bed, is a squalling green child. It looks just like Frank did when he was temporarily a baby himself, and Hips remembers that babies of his species don't have the distinction of being a boy or a girl. The baby's fists are clenched tight, and his mouth open in a rictus of agony, his eyes squinched shut.
"Oh, no..." she breathes, and hurries to scoop it up. It's light, like a little bird, and its skin is a paler green than looks healthy.
Sloth shambles into the room behind her and heavily takes a seat on the side of the bed. The sheets are perfectly made, if a little rumpled in the middle. This isn't so much an implication that he took time to make his bed as it is he hasn't had a chance to use it recently.
"He's not as malnourished as he was when I found him." As to how that is, the little band-aid on the baby's arm is a pretty clear indicator. "But he won't stop crying and I can't even think straight anymore." The doctor isn't looking any more steady in his sitting position than he was on his feet, and the handful of empty mugs scattered around the various surfaces, and the still-hot and percolating coffee maker on a nearby desk is a clue as to how he's been forcing himself to stay awake.
All the questions she's got are forced into the back of her head. She carries the poor little thing out into the 'living room' again, noting Ramon's astonished and concerned expression.
She dives into the diaper bag and fetches out the bottle of formula that she had brought along for Sammy. (If Sammy gets hungry, well, there's always the old standby of her breast.) Hoping that this works, she rubs the nub of the bottle against this new baby's face, and the rooting instinct takes over. Soon, it's suckling away, the crying now just a bubbling whimper as the formula goes down.
Although Sammy doesn't like all the noise, and now HE'S started crying a little bit, too. Hips immediately finds a comfortable seat and looks to her husband.
{Bring Sammy over here too, please? So I can hold him?}
All of this is happening so fast, it's like instinct has taken over entirely. She couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.
Ramon already has Sammy carefully picked up and takes a seat next to Hippolyta, allowing her to take their baby if she so wishes. Although he's happy to just sit next to her and let their son be close by to his mom.
{So...What's going on, mi amor?} Not that Hips knows much more than he does, though.
{This is going on.} "This" being, of course, the other baby in her arms. She squeezes over in the overlarge arm chair, giving Ramon plenty of room to join her. As the alien baby is gulping down its food, she's carefully leaning over and kissing Sammy, fussing over him, and then doing the same for the new one.
Giving them both attention and love, so they both know she's not neglecting them. Others would say she's nuts, a baby wouldn't know, but she disagrees. A baby would know immediately.
She looks up at the bedroom door where Frank was. He's not rejoined them yet. Odd...
{Do you want me to check on him?} Ramon silently asks, since he's picking up on her concerned glance. As for baby affection, he's going to concentrate on holding and fussing over Sammy for now. He has no idea what the story with the little green slug baby is, but he'll be damned if it doesn't bring back some awkward memories.
{Please? Leave Sammy, I've got him.} She's as good as her word, too, adjusting the bottle and resting the baby's head in the crook of one elbow, leaving her other arm free to take Sammy.
She gets those awkward memories, and grins a sheepish little grin at her husband.
Okay, let's think about this. Sloth has a baby. Sloth got hurt in finding, his words, the baby. The baby is malnourished, but has been on some sort of IV in the last few hours. Sloth has not slept for ages, and is so exhausted that he passes out cold in front of people who are, let's face it, not inclined to be particularly nice to him when he's helpless. He asked her for help. And he's a despotic megalomaniac hell-bent on world domination.
{What? Are you intending to just take it right now? While he's asleep? We don't even know where this baby came from or whose it is. He could have stolen it, for all we know.} And that, right now in Ramon's mind, seems like a safe guess to have about such a twisted individual as Sloth.
{Not that that discourages the notion of getting the baby out of his grasp, but still. Do we really want to get involved in his baby-trafficking, or whatever scheme this infant is tied to? Besides, we have our son to think of as well.}
{No! I don't mean that...I mean...well, I guess I do mean that. Shit. Oh, Ramon, look at him...it.} She corrects herself conscientiously.
The bottle of formula is almost totally gone, and in record time. The eyes are still shut tightly, and the fists are still clenched...and the second the last drop of food is gone, the wail starts up again.
"Aye carumba," she mutters. And, uncaring, unthinking, just going on that instinct again, she lifts up her shirt and gives a tit to the baby. To BOTH babies, actually, as Sammy knew his cues by now and started rooting too.
Hehe. Here's Hips, on Sloth's space station, shirt up, and he can't even enjoy it.
There's something very weird about seeing his wife breast-feeding a baby she only met all of ten minutes ago, and it takes him aback briefly. And then there's something kind of humourous in the fact she's got a baby latched onto either one, but he can't really seem to find the will to laugh about it right this second.
{I feel like I should go wake him up and force him to explain, right this second, what on earth he's trying to get you involved in.} But only after she's covered up, of course. Sloth is not getting to see Hips' boobs under any circumstances.
{Let him sleep,} she answers firmly, snuggling both children. That's when the new baby's eyes open...and they're a deep, bloody red. She gasps, and then sighs. Of course.
{I don't think he's trying to get me involved in anything. I think he was just overwhelmed, remembered I had a kid, and figured I could...I dunnow, babysit for a while. And I don't think he kidnapped the kid. If he did, he'd be a lot less...worried. He'd have it in a cell somewhere, and he sure as hell wouldn't ask me for help. I think this is his kid.}
{...I'm not sure how that'd work. I thought you said something along the lines once that he was the last of whatever his kind is? And if it's some kind of half-breed, I would like to think it'd at least be born with legs.}
All of this silent chatter is a good idea on their part, what with two babies trying to eat, one of which is very fussy and upset, and there being an entirely zonked-out megalomaniac in the next room.
Of course, that's why she's kept it up. She's no fool. Besides, Sammy always seems to be more at ease when his parents are using plaga song to communicate.
{Honey, relax, please. I know you hate him. You have every right to. But what does that have to do with an innocent little baby? Whatever it is, however it was born, does it really matter?}
Then, a quiet, stern look, filled with a reminder.
{Would you, you leave a child in the hands of somebody trying to take over the world?}
"I've got a baby, is what's going on. And I'll be fucked if I know what I'm supposed to do with it now."
Reply
There, in a messy nest of bedding in a dresser drawer on Frank's bed, is a squalling green child. It looks just like Frank did when he was temporarily a baby himself, and Hips remembers that babies of his species don't have the distinction of being a boy or a girl. The baby's fists are clenched tight, and his mouth open in a rictus of agony, his eyes squinched shut.
"Oh, no..." she breathes, and hurries to scoop it up. It's light, like a little bird, and its skin is a paler green than looks healthy.
Reply
"He's not as malnourished as he was when I found him." As to how that is, the little band-aid on the baby's arm is a pretty clear indicator. "But he won't stop crying and I can't even think straight anymore." The doctor isn't looking any more steady in his sitting position than he was on his feet, and the handful of empty mugs scattered around the various surfaces, and the still-hot and percolating coffee maker on a nearby desk is a clue as to how he's been forcing himself to stay awake.
Reply
She dives into the diaper bag and fetches out the bottle of formula that she had brought along for Sammy. (If Sammy gets hungry, well, there's always the old standby of her breast.) Hoping that this works, she rubs the nub of the bottle against this new baby's face, and the rooting instinct takes over. Soon, it's suckling away, the crying now just a bubbling whimper as the formula goes down.
Although Sammy doesn't like all the noise, and now HE'S started crying a little bit, too. Hips immediately finds a comfortable seat and looks to her husband.
{Bring Sammy over here too, please? So I can hold him?}
All of this is happening so fast, it's like instinct has taken over entirely. She couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to.
Reply
{So...What's going on, mi amor?} Not that Hips knows much more than he does, though.
Reply
Giving them both attention and love, so they both know she's not neglecting them. Others would say she's nuts, a baby wouldn't know, but she disagrees. A baby would know immediately.
She looks up at the bedroom door where Frank was. He's not rejoined them yet. Odd...
Reply
Reply
She gets those awkward memories, and grins a sheepish little grin at her husband.
Reply
{Passed out. Completely dead to the world. And what did he do to his head?}
Reply
Okay, let's think about this. Sloth has a baby. Sloth got hurt in finding, his words, the baby. The baby is malnourished, but has been on some sort of IV in the last few hours. Sloth has not slept for ages, and is so exhausted that he passes out cold in front of people who are, let's face it, not inclined to be particularly nice to him when he's helpless. He asked her for help. And he's a despotic megalomaniac hell-bent on world domination.
{Ramon, we can't leave this baby with him.}
Reply
{Not that that discourages the notion of getting the baby out of his grasp, but still. Do we really want to get involved in his baby-trafficking, or whatever scheme this infant is tied to? Besides, we have our son to think of as well.}
Reply
The bottle of formula is almost totally gone, and in record time. The eyes are still shut tightly, and the fists are still clenched...and the second the last drop of food is gone, the wail starts up again.
"Aye carumba," she mutters. And, uncaring, unthinking, just going on that instinct again, she lifts up her shirt and gives a tit to the baby. To BOTH babies, actually, as Sammy knew his cues by now and started rooting too.
Hehe. Here's Hips, on Sloth's space station, shirt up, and he can't even enjoy it.
Reply
{I feel like I should go wake him up and force him to explain, right this second, what on earth he's trying to get you involved in.} But only after she's covered up, of course. Sloth is not getting to see Hips' boobs under any circumstances.
Reply
{I don't think he's trying to get me involved in anything. I think he was just overwhelmed, remembered I had a kid, and figured I could...I dunnow, babysit for a while. And I don't think he kidnapped the kid. If he did, he'd be a lot less...worried. He'd have it in a cell somewhere, and he sure as hell wouldn't ask me for help. I think this is his kid.}
Reply
All of this silent chatter is a good idea on their part, what with two babies trying to eat, one of which is very fussy and upset, and there being an entirely zonked-out megalomaniac in the next room.
Reply
{Honey, relax, please. I know you hate him. You have every right to. But what does that have to do with an innocent little baby? Whatever it is, however it was born, does it really matter?}
Then, a quiet, stern look, filled with a reminder.
{Would you, you leave a child in the hands of somebody trying to take over the world?}
Reply
Leave a comment