Work Text:
It isn’t easy being a single father. Not to twins. And especially not when you’re a (now recovering) alcoholic.
Craig was completely unprepared for this turn of events, spending those two weeks before the eggs hatched frantically baby proofing and gathering supplies. He'd rented out some books from the library about parenting, and had squared away a bunch of time off from work… but still he felt entirely out of his depth. He wasn’t particularly upset, however. More… nervous. He didn’t know how to take care of kids, but damn it, they were his, and he had to try.
He couldn’t fail them like he failed him.
So here he was, one month of saved up sick days and paid time off later, with two healthy baby boys and a boatload of missed sleep. Thomas was a rather fussy baby, always wanting to be held or with his brother. Phillip, on the other hand, was more calm and curious, constantly grabbing things and giving exploratory bites to whatever he can get his tentacles on. It was exhausting trying to keep them safe and happy, but when their little faces smiled up at him, it was all worth it.
Unfortunately, he was out of time. He had to get back to work, which meant he needed to have someone take care of them while he was away… only he couldn’t find anyone. He looked and looked, and even called up his friend Ammoses to see if the man knew anyone who could help, but they both came up empty. With no other option, he’s forced to take them into the office with him. Only trouble is… he hadn’t exactly told anyone about them.
Sneaking them into the building was easy enough, seeing as he owned the place. Just get there early, use the master key, and set up a little pen using a big cardboard box to keep them contained while he works. He did have a meeting that day that he absolutely had to be at, but hopefully by then the boys would be asleep so he could slip out without worry.
He just hadn’t accounted for falling asleep himself…
~~~~~
“Where the shell is he,” Alyssa fumes, tapping her fingers harshly against the table, “It’s been half an hour already.” She was the Head Designer for Cuttlegear, a senior who’s been with the company since its early days.
“Are we sure he’s even in the office?” Carla sighs, pinching her brow. As the Main Accountant for the brand, she always had a lot on her plate, leading to a generally sour attitude.
“I saw him this morning, and his car is still outside…” mutters Elizabeth, a generally meek woman who oversees production.
“Maybe he just forgot. He is like, a billion years old,” grumbles Damien, spinning around listlessly in his chair. A brilliant mind for Marketing, but his laissez faire attitude causes friction at times.
“He is in his mid sixties,” Alyssa states flatly, glaring at him. She then sighs, casting her gaze down at the table, “But you may be right. Elizabeth, can you go up and see if he's in his office? I’ve been trying to page him, but I’ve been getting no response. He might have gotten sucked into an idea and let the batteries die. Again."
“Y– Yes Ma'am.”
The nervous inkling gets up from her chair and pads out of the meeting room, the clack of her heels tapping against slightly scuffed tile. The steady *click, click, click* ascends a flight of stairs, meanders down a hall, and comes to a rest in front of a rather nondescript door. The only thing to delineate this as the boss' office was a tiny placard reading "C. Cuttlefish."
She knocks three times, calling out in a shaky voice, “Sir? Are– Are you in there?”
There's no response.
She tries the handle, and finds it unlocked. “I’m so sorry to intrude, Sir, but you're missing the quarterly meeting…” And then she stops dead in her tracks, hearts leaping into her throat.
There, at his desk, was Craig, slumped over the tabletop, looking for all the world like he was dead. An absolute mess of papers and pencils littered the floor around him, an old wire mesh cup lying on its side a short distance away. Elizabeth rushes over to him, frantic, but a sudden snore causes her to slow, relief seeping through her ink.
Oh thank Cod, he was just asleep.
“Perhaps you are getting old…” she mutters quietly, tapping over much more calmly to shake his shoulder.
But that's when an odd gurgle catches her attention, coming from a large cardboard box sitting just off to the side. It was labeled as a scrap fabric box, but all of the scrap was dumped out on the floor in a corner…
She peeks inside… and her eyes widen.
“Oh goodness me…”
~~~~~
Alyssa growls frustratedly under her breath, waiting for any sign of her damn boss so they could get on with this now forty five minute late meeting. Things had gotten quite tense in the room with Elizabeth gone, not even Damien daring to elicit her ire. If she had to wait one more cod damn second for that man to show up…
*Beep beep!*
Her pager buzzes within her pocket, cheerfully announcing a new message.
<*E.Franklin (19558)* I don't think Craig will be making it to the meeting.
>>*A.Mackenzie (24309)* But he needs to. We can’t proceed without him. What is holding him up?
<*E.Franklin (19558)* You might have to come see for yourself. I don't think you’ll believe me if I try to explain.
>>*A.Mackenzie (24309)* This better be fucking unbelievable, Franklin.
Alyssa pushes out of her chair with a huff, announcing firmly to the room, “We’re going to his office. Something is holding him up, and Elizabeth can’t describe it apparently.”
Damien grumbles under his breath. “So much for an easy workday…”
Fury radiates off of Alyssa as she leads the charge up the stairs. She doesn't even bother to knock when they arrive, barging into the office with no warning and holding on by a thread. “Alright. What the shell is so important that you can't come down one flight of stairs and–”
“SHHHH! Don't wake him!”
The designer pauses, glaring over at Elizabeth… only to drift down to what she was holding, barely sparing her unconscious boss a glance. “Is that…?”
“Yeah. There's two, actually.”
The three of them come padding over, surrounding Elizabeth and the small bundle in her arms. Phillip gazes back at them curiously, slobbering all over a beaking ring with his little grey tentacles. Thomas was still asleep in the box, curled around a stuffed mini zapfish.
Carla squeals, the brightest smile flashing onto her face, “Oh my cod! Hello there cutie~”
“Babies? He has kids?” Damien squawks with disbelief.
Elizabeth shrugs. “Apparently? That does explain why he suddenly took a month off."
Alyssa kneels down by the box, running a few gentle fingers over Thomas’s mantle, “I never knew he was married…”
“Shouldn't they be with their mother though?" Damien questions, absolutely baffled at this turn of events, "Why does he have them in a box in his office?”
Elizabeth sighs. “I don't know, but he looks completely exhausted...”
They glance over to him… and indeed he does. His hair was a mess. His beard was unkempt. Wrinkles and stains marred his normally tidy clothes. Dark circles lay under his eyemask…. He clearly wasn't doing all that great, even ignoring the fact that he'd passed out at work.
"Well, in any case…" Carla hums, "Come to Auntie Carla~" –She then scoops up Thomas, waking the poor boy from the sudden altitude change. His little tendrils reach back for the zapfish with a confused sound.
"Who made you their aunt?" Alyssa scoffs.
"Me. Right now. Arbitrarily."
The designer rolls her eyes at her coworker's antics. Thomas though… he blinks sleepily, looking at each of these new faces with growing trepidation.
"Aww~ Look at you! Aren't you just adorable!" Carla cradles him in an arm, wiggling her fingers enticingly in front of his face, like she was trying to coax him into grabbing at them.
He squirms a little, tiny brow furrowing.
"What lovely black ink you have! Does the monochrome look run in the family?"
"Mmmmm…"
"Hehe~ And you definitely have your daddie's eyes. Those stars aren't a common occurrence you know!"
"MMMMM…!"
"Carla, I don't think he likes that," Damien warns.
But it goes unheeded.
She raises the boy high into the air, beaming at him. "Who could've thought such a crusty old man could have such cute kids~!"
And that was the final straw. Thomas bursts into tears with a loud, ear piercing, "WAAAAAAAAA!"
Carla's smile drops like a rock. She quickly tries to soothe him, but it was far too late. Craig was awake, and he was fucking pissed. In what seemed like a split second, he scrambles to his feet and bolts for his kids, hardly even thinking in his half awake daze. The two are snatched up and held protectively to his chest, half-hidden as he instinctively hisses at his employees. Even his chromatophores flash menacingly, a clear warning to the four to back the fuck off.
They do not need to be told twice.
Carla has the decency to look ashamed, backing up and showing her empty hands. Damien scrambles. Elizabeth scrambles even further. And Alyssa….
"Sir. It's just us. Calm down."
He blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. " 'lyssa…? Wha's– *yawn* …Wha's goin' on? Why're ya in my…" But his train of thought is cut off by another whimper from his son. "Oh… No, no. Hey. Thomas. It's okay. Yer okay. Daddie's here…"
He hums a soft tune, running a hand up and down the boy's mantle. Thomas clings to his shirt, so, so scared by these new, loud people. One minute, he was napping with his favorite toy, the next, he was being swung around in the air by some random stranger. It was not a fun experience for a fresh hatchling!
Phillip, on the other hand, couldn't care less. He had his chew toy, and that's all that matters.
It takes a bit, but slowly, slowly, the cries quiet down. Thomas snuggles into his arms, still sad, but not sobbing. Finally, Craig turns his attention to his employees with a guilty little grimace. They glance to one another, and then back to him. Who was gonna break first? Him, or them…
Spoilers: It was Alyssa.
"Sir. You know that children aren't allowed in the office."
And there it was. Caught red handed.
"I wasn't aware that you were married, but congratulations I suppose."
Shit.
"Why are they with you, though? Shouldn't they be at home with your wife?"
Shiiiiiiiit.
"Yeah…" Elizabeth adds meekly, "They're far too young to be separated from her for so long. Why are you taking care of them?"
Shit, what should he do? He can't say that he didn't have a wife, that he had two kids out of wedlock, and at his age no less! C'mon… Think of something believable that they won't pry into…
"I– I didn't have a choice," he mumbles, ears drooping, "She died durin' the layin', so…"
Alyssa's stern face fades to one of sympathy. "Oh… Oh, Craig, I'm so sorry."
"Could you not get a sitter?" Elizabeth mumbles.
"No… An' trust me, I looked. Neighbors are too far away, friends are too busy… Ain't got no family, so it was either this, or criminal negligence."
Damien shakes his head and sighs. "…No wonder you look like you've been run through a paper shredder…"
"I– I don't look that bad… Do I?"
They share a grimace.
"You look like shit, boss."
Carla pinches her brow. "…Damien. You're supposed to add 'no offense' to that."
"Why? It's true and I mean it."
Craig groans, shoulders slumping. Damien wasn't wrong… but come on, man.
In his arms, Thomas grows fussy again, biting his fingers.
"Hungry already? You two never stop eatin', do ya…"
Over on the sad and neglected couch shoved against the far wall was a bag, one that he'd tossed a bit haphazardly on to it this morning so he could get the kids situated. He makes an attempt to rifle around in it… but the two squirming children in his arms was making it difficult. He opts instead to place them onto the couch so he could fetch their bottles, formula, and the bottled water needed to mix them into substitute milk. Two scoops into each, water up to the fill line, give them a firm shake…. and feed Thomas first because he's seconds away from crying.
Those tiny tendrils wave impatiently, and then latch on to the bottle as soon as it gets close. Craig has to reposition him a bit as he guzzles away happily so that he didn't drink too fast and make himself sick. Unfortunately, Phillip wasn't nearly as happy about this turn of events. He whines and drops his chew toy, grey tendrils flaring. He was hungry too! Why wasn't Daddy feeding him?
"Patience Phil… I can only get to ya one at a time…"
"Sir..? If– If I may?"
Elizabeth patters over, gently scooping up Phillip and the second bottle. He didn't care one bit about who was feeding him, just that he was getting fed, so he has no problem settling in her arms and sucking away.
"Thanks…" Craig sighs.
"Not a problem. They're only a month old, right? Hatchlings have to be fed about every three hours, so you doing it on your own…" She trails off and grimaces.
He chuckles dryly. "Yeah… Sleep has been… elusive, t' say the least." Then… he pauses. "…Wait. How'd ya know they're a month old?"
"You suddenly took a month off of work with no notice," Alyssa points out.
"That, and they haven't even gone through limb solidification yet. That usually happens around two months," Elizabeth continues.
They got him there, but…
"Why do ya know so much about kids?"
She smiles, tilting Phillip's bottle a bit more so he had better grip. "I have a few nieces and nephews who I watch from time to time. They're older now, but I babysat when they were freshly hatched."
"Ah."
Damien, growing tired of standing around, leans against Craig's desk and crosses his arms. "…So what's your plan?"
"Plan?"
"For them." –He points at the kids.
"…Do what work I can while keepin' an eye on 'em, an' as soon as I get home try lookin' fer a sitter again?" Craig shrugs.
"Can't you get up to six months off with parental leave?" Carla suggests
"If I was a woman, yeah. Fathers only get a week, if they get anythin' at all."
"Unpaid leave?"
"Can't. Got bills to pay and a mortgage to keep up with."
"Don't you get a military stipend?"
"It covers the groceries, an' not much else."
He neglects to mention that those "groceries" were booze. He's cut that bad habit, so now it might actually go to groceries now… Or, well, is cutting that bad habit. You can't quit alcohol cold turkeyfish or it could literally kill you. He was weaning off of it though.
"So… what? You're just going to keep bringing them to the office?" Damien scoffs.
"No! …Probably. I'll get a sitter, I just–" Thomas gurgles, and he tilts the bottle a bit more so his son could finish it off. "…I just need more time."
"So you'll keep bringing them to the office."
–Craig opens his mouth–
"…Until you get a sitter."
And closes it with a sigh. "I– …Yes. Probably."
"Great," Damien groans, "Half the staff are gonna go fucking nuts."
"I can hide 'em in my office!"
"Like you hid them now? And immediately got found out when you weren't at our quarterly meeting?"
"The quarterly–" He turns to the clock, and sees a nice big 2:15 staring back at him. "….Fuck."
"Face it, boss. You're not going to be able to keep this quiet forever."
"Y'all got any other bright ideas?" Craig grumbles, "'Cause if so, I'd love to hear 'em."
"If I'm not too busy and you need to step away, I could watch them for a bit?" Elizabeth offers with a shrug.
"I'll keep an ear out for any babysitting services," Carla adds.
Alyssa crosses her arms and sighs. "…I'll look into extending our parental leave policies for fathers."
The four turn to Damien…
And he holds up his hands. "Don't look at me. I know jack about kids."
"…Yer always so helpful, Damien," Craig drones.
Distracted by the conversation, Craig doesn't notice that Thomas was done with his bottle until he swats at his hands. He sets it aside and pulls out a burping cloth, giving the boy a few pats on the back to settle his stomach, and then it was on to some good ol' cuddles with Dad. Thomas coos and snuggles up close, happy as can be, and Craig tries not to sigh as he idly waves his fingers around for the boy to track, much to Carla's huffing. He loved his kids, he really did… but they were physically exhausting.
"…I will be rescheduling the quarterly meeting for tomorrow, at the same time," Alyssa announces, "This time, make sure to be there, Craig."
He waves her off. "Yeah yeah, I will… Now if you don't got anythin' else to say, then scram. I've gotta put these two down fer a nap."
She rolls her eyes and struts towards the door, Carla and Damien following suit. Elizabeth was last, gently handing over Phillip before closing the door with a quiet *click*. Full and sleepy, the boy flops into Craig's arms with a little trill, tentacles curling around his brother's.
"Ready fer some shut-eye, you two?"
His response is two tiny yawns, already drowsing.
"…I'll take that as a yes."
Gently, he brings them back over to the box and nestles them inside. Thomas squirms a bit, trying to get comfortable, but soon enough he's out for the count. Phillip sticks it out a bit longer, looking up at Craig as if asking "Are you gonna join us?"
"…Close yer eyes, little one. It's time fer you to rest."
The boy yawns, drooping, drooping… and then he was gone. The two are cuddled up together, tendrils tangled with that mini zapfish held between them. It was an adorable sight. Craig couldn't help but sigh fondly, tracing circles into Phillip's tiny mantle. He really ought to clean up the disaster that was his floor… but a five minute break couldn't hurt. He'd get to it after a little rest.
Just five minutes.
Just.. five…
"Pa? Lunch is ready."
"Be there in a minute, flowerbud."
"…Whatcha holding?"
"This?" –Craig lifts up a small square– "Photo of my sons when they were hatchlin's. Fell outa one o' my albums, an I guess I got a bit distracted puttin' it back…"
Sumire pads over and takes a peek. In his lap was an old, yellowed photo album, chock full of old, yellowed photos. Baby pictures were stuck every which way, some with tape, most others with only a hope and a dream. The one in his hand looked to be the oldest, judging by the…. everything about it. It depicted two very young hatchlings in a padded box, sleeping soundly as he leans over the edge and strokes the grey one. Only problem was…. he was clearly also asleep.
"That was my first day back at the office," Craig chuckles, "Couldn't find a babysitter, so I tried to hide 'em in the office… Needless to say, I got caught pretty quick."
"Did you get in trouble?"
He rubs the back of his neck. "Well… it was my company, so not really…. but it still weren't ideal."
"Sounds like it was hard, taking care of them."
"Oh it was. It deeeeefinitely was. But it was worth it."
"Hey! You two! Are you going to come eat or what?" Comes a shout from down the hall.
"Comin', love!"
Craig slips the loose photo back into the book, closing it. "Let's get goin' 'fore your father hauls us over by the scruff."
She nods, and the two of them head out of his study, letting that old photo album rest in peace once more.
~Thomas and Phillip Cuttlefish, 1955-2002~