nightwinging_it | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who: Jamie Kirk, Dick Grayson, with a guest appearance by David Kirk
When: Late at night.
What: Why do babies cry so damn much. :C

It was a late night on top of two all nighters, and Dick had sort of felt like a zombie as he dragged himself home to the Cave after patrol. After stitching up a cut on his arm and making sure he hadn't torn the stitches on his shoulder from the night before, he changed into a t-shirt and sweats and headed upstairs.

Only to be greeted by the sound of a wailing infant and he winced, both in sympathy for his sister and because hot damn, that was loud even from far away. Babies were cute, but they were super loud, and Dick would hazard a guess that Jamie was probably ready to throw herself out the window by now.

So, instead of just crashing on one of the beds down in the infirmary in the cave, or on one of the couches downstairs, he slowly dragged himself upstairs to see if he could do something to help.

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Babies were no cute and she was about ready to throw said baby from the window. She wasn't suicidal, c'mon Dick. And he was little, the fall would do way more damage to him then it would to her and that would just solve everything.

"David, c'mon. You have literally nothing to cry about. Unless you just hate me and in which case, I hate you right back," Jamie said, patting the crying infant on the back, trying to burp him or calm him down. She was going deaf from all of this. This is what it felt like.

"You're going to regret saying that later," Dick chimed in as he arrived on the scene, leaning against the door frame and yawning. "What's going on?"

If Jamie could kill with her eyes... well lots of people would be dead several times over but Dick especially would be dust right now.

"Your nephew hates me. He's crying out of spite."

First you're talking about killing the baby, now Dick? Jeez Jamie, this has not been a good day for you.

"Want me to take him for a while?"

It's been a rough ten week since he'd been born, let's be realistic.

"You just got home from patrol," Jamie answered, switching David from one shoulder to the other one with a sigh. "And you're injured again."

"It's just a scratch, it barely needed stitches," he said, waving his hand nonchalantly. Jeez, it wasn't like his arm was going to fall off. "Let me take him."

Jamie rolled her eyes because the words 'it barely needed stitches' were not really reassuring and if he was lying and it started bleeding again, she was going to be so mad if he bled on her baby.

"Fine," she said, handing David off. "But if he's still crying in five minutes, go to bed."

It was fine. If it started bleeding again, it meant Dick was doing something a lot more strenuous than taking care of a baby, and he really wasn't planning on doing anything else.

He took David gently and held him against his shoulder, patting the infant's back gently and starting to walk around with him a little.

"Hey, buddy." David didn't stop screaming, but Dick didn't really seem to care, talking calmly to the infant and rubbing his back. "You know, your mom really needs to get some sleep. And you do too, okay? It's okay. Come on."

David was a hard baby to take care of, he might actually tear stitches. Jim slid her fingers through her hair, making a face when she realized she hadn't washed in a while and that was just great, she actually couldn't remember the last shower that she'd taken. But she couldn't really say with confidence what day of the week it was either.

It was Tuesday, and David definitely didn't seem to want to stop screaming. But Dick was so tired, he had already sort of mentally tuned him out, instead just sushing him quietly. Eventually, probably because David had exhausted himself more than anything else, the screams started to level off into distressed little sobs and hiccups, and he balled his tiny fist in Dick's shirt, clinging on tightly as he whimpered against Dick's shoulder.

"There you go, kiddo. It's okay."

If Jamie was kidding before and just babbling about David hating her, she definitely didn't think it was a joke anymore. Because Dick didn't do anything that she hadn't, and the baby stopped crying for him and maybe it was just counterproductive, but exhaustion and still changing hormones got the best of her.

"Great," Jamie said, her voice more than a little choked. She turned slightly, brushing her knuckles against her eyes in an effort to stop the tears before they really started flowing. It was pretty much failing.

"Hey, Jamie-" Alright, this was complicated, he had a sleeping baby and crying sister, and he was running on over two days without sleep. He carefully reached out with his free hand to touch her shoulder.

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jamie answered, wiping at her eyes again because damnit, just stop crying. She brushed his hand off her shoulder, half glaring at the both of them and half staring at the ground.

"My kid hates me."

Alright, he could take a hint, so he just went back to cradling the still slightly distressed infant, and looking at her with surprise.

"No he doesn't. He's just a baby, I don't think they hate anyone."

"He has been crying all day and then you just waltz in here and he's done. So that's just great. That's really great."

"Jamie, it's two thirty in the morning! Maybe he just wore himself out." Or maybe he could tell his mom was super stressed out and that just made him more upset, whereas Dick had been calmer when he'd started trying to get him to sleep. "He's barely two months old, he's not capable of picking favorites."

"He's a Kirk. He's smart enough to figure it out," Jamie retorted, sniffling quietly. She was just, not cut out for this. It had nothing to do with how much she loved that kid, because she really did, she just couldn't show it really. And it freaked her out having someone so dependent on her.

"Whatever, just put him down and go to bed yourself."

"No, not whatever," he said firmly, staring at her. "Come on, let's sit down and talk. Or you can cry on me or something."

Really, he had definitely noticed how miserable Jamie seemed ever since David had been born, and he didn't want to just stand by and watch her self destruct. Postpartum depression wasn't uncommon, and he sincerely doubted she'd been talking to anyone about it or doing much besides sucking it up and dealing if she was depressed.

"Besides, he's clinging to me like a baby koala, I'm not trying to pry him off."

Yeah, how was she supposed to cry on him while the koala brat was clinging to him at the same time.

"Go to bed, Dick, there's nothing to talk about," she answered, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. No more crying, Jamie. Even if she totally hated that David was clinging to Dick but whenever she held him, he just screamed and screamed. "I'm just tired and I haven't showered in like a month."

He had two shoulders. You could have the one the koala brat, aka your son, wasn't using.

Dick gave her a pointed look, and instead of leaving or trying to get David to let go of him, he hopped up onto Jamie's bed and got comfortable, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Go shower, and then we'll talk. I'm not leaving."

Jamie glared right back at him for that and huffed under her breath. "Fine," she said, turning on her heel and heading for the bathroom. And she didn't emerge for at least thirty minutes, trying to stay under the spray for as long as she could.

She kind of cried a little bit too, and she needed time for the redness to leave her eyes.

By the time she wanted back to her bedroom, there wasn't any sign of crying and she was running a towel over her hair.

And Dick had kind of passed out a little, because half an hour was a long time for a sleep deprived vigilante with a baby cuddling on him like a furless cat.

But, he was awake enough so that when Jamie came back in, he realized she was back and quickly tried to wake himself up a little more, without waking up the baby.

"Feeling better?"

It just depressed her that David had no problem sleeping on Dick apparently, but every time she got near him, he just started wailing like she was the wicked witch of the west. She stared at him for a moment before sitting on the edge of her bed, dropping the towel on the ground.

"I'm still tired, and you're still on my bed."

"Because we need to talk."

He carefully sat up and moved over to sit next to her, shifting carefully so David didn't wake up. "Have you talked to anyone about how you're feeling? You know. With all this?"

Jamie stared at him for a few seconds, not sure what to make of that. Because she didn't think that she was that obvious about how she was feeling or even that it was abnormal. Her kid cried all the time and she didn't get any sleep or time to do anything on her own, expect whenever Dick or Alfred could lend a hand and she felt bad making them do it because they had shit to do too.

"What?"