Adventures in Fatherhood, a Derek-centric one shot
Before you read this, you might want to watch this video, which inspired this little fic. ;)
Click to viewDisclaimer: I don’t own Grey’s, nor do I own the rights to that YouTube video. I just think Derek would be the greatest daddy ever, that’s all. This is for Lexie, skye3 , who posted the video on her LJ and hinted that I write this in the first place. ;)
Derek is just finishing washing the last of the bottles in the sink and setting them in the drain board to dry when he hears his daughter crying over the monitor. He glances around in the room in search of Meredith, but then remembers that she’s on call tonight, so he’s on double parent duty for the evening. Dinner, bath, bottle, bedtime, laundry, and dishes. The hectic night that falls once a week, every week. Despite the exhaustion that envelops his body like a fog, he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
He quickly dries off his hands on the dish towel draped over his shoulder, makes a beeline out of the kitchen, and takes the stairs two at a time.
“I’m coming, Soph!” he calls out to the baby. When he reaches the nursery, he slowly opens the door so as not to startle her. Derek smiles at his one year old, her little hands reaching out for him as she stands perched on her feet, tucked away in her pink footie pajamas.
He lifts her out of her crib and wipes the tears from her cheeks. “You okay, Sophie?” Derek asks quietly, letting his daughter suck on his finger.
Every night for the past few weeks has been tough, as more and more of her molars are popping up through her sore gums. As it turns out, teething also brings diaper rash, runny noses, and lots of drooling; and therefore, many sleepless nights for all three.
Sophie lets out a tired sigh and buries her head into Derek’s shoulder. “Da,” she murmurs.
“I know; I’m here,” he coos, grabbing her still frozen teething ring and a blanket from her crib. He drops down into the rocking chair next to the changing table. “Here you go.” Derek hands her the teething ring and she sticks it in her mouth, effectively setting Derek’s finger free of her grasp.
“Do your teeth hurt?” Derek asks her.
She yawns and clutches onto Derek’s tee shirt. “Teef,” she says.
“Okay,” he chuckles, proud of how his daughter is starting to repeat words, and how Meredith’s excessive usage of the words crap and damn have been dwindling as a result.
Nearly an hour passes spent rocking Sophie back to sleep; she’s out like a light within minutes, but Derek can’t stop staring at her, in awe how beautiful his little daughter is. She has Meredith’s nose with the same sprinkling of freckles, the same shapely lips. But his chin, dark eyelashes, and tiny ringlets at the ends of her dirty blonde hair-Sophie’s hair color, courtesy of Meredith, and the curls provided by the Shepherd DNA.
He carefully stands up, tiptoes over to the crib, and gently lays her back down. Just when his fingertips touch the doorknob and he thinks he’s in the clear, she’s sitting up in her crib, looking at him with watery eyes.
“Da?” she says, her lip quivering in a way that breaks Derek’s heart. He wonders briefly if his daughter knows he’s a pushover, and is playing him like a cheap violin. Sophie has had him wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born.
“Go to sleep, Soph,” he whispers, walking back over to the crib. Derek lays her down and kisses her forehead. “I love you.”
“Da in?” Sophie requests of him, patting the soft mattress of her crib with her chubby baby hand.
“Daddy can’t fit in there,” he says with a smile, glancing at the purple flower clock on the wall. 10:03. Way past her bedtime. But when her tiny lip quivers again, any resolve he had melts immediately.
“Ma?” she asks instead. Now and again, Meredith has been known to maneuver herself into the crib, and fall asleep beside their daughter. It’s actually kind of adorable how mommy-ish Meredith is, going so far as to spend numerous naptimes and bedtimes in there just for Sophie.
But now, it also means that Derek kind of has no other choice.
“Do you want Daddy to lay with you?” he asks.
Sophie responds by scooting over in the crib to make room for him, looking at her father expectantly. Derek sighs amusedly, steps up onto the base that supports the mattress, and hoists one leg over the rail, then the other.
“Don’t tell Uncle Mark I did this,” he chuckles, wedging himself into the most comfortable position he can find.
She hands him the pink flannel blanket and Derek drapes it over both of them, glad that he decided to change into sweat pants and a tee shirt when he got home, considering there’s a good chance he’ll fall asleep in here.
Sophie curls into him, draping her small arm over his torso. “Seep,” she yawns.
Derek kisses the crown of her head. “Okay, we’ll both sleep,” he whispers. The scent of her lavender baby bath soap infiltrates his nostrils, and he smiles. Like mother, like daughter.
“Lub,” Sophie tells him, her eyelids fluttering closed and her long eyelashes fanning over her soft cheeks.
“I love you too, Soph,” he says, wrapping his arm around her.
He closes his eyes, deciding to just lie here until she’s fallen into a deep sleep. Then he’ll make his great escape into his own bed down the hall. Although, really, his daughter is better company than Meredith’s unoccupied side of the mattress. Derek doesn’t know which is worse: when he’s stuck at the hospital on call, or when she is. But they vowed that once Sophie was born, they’d schedule their on call nights separately, so one of them would always be there to tuck her in. Every decision they make, they do so with their daughter in mind.
Even if it meant sleeping in a crib.
When Derek wakes up, tired, disoriented, and with an ache in his back, the time on the clock indicates that it’s almost three in the morning. So much for resting his eyes for a few minutes. He glances down at his daughter, sucking on her tiny thumb as she sleeps peacefully.
He knows that even the smallest jostling could wake her-she’s a light sleeper, just like he is-so every move he makes has to be orchestrated like a meticulous dance. Derek grabs the teddy bear he’d been using as a pillow and gently replaces his body with it, draping Sophie’s arm over the stuffed animal with baited breath, hoping she’s in a deep enough sleep that she won’t know the difference.
Carefully, he uses the rail of the crib to hoist himself into a sitting position. So far, so good. Derek is plotting his next move when she rolls over, expecting to be met with his warm body and not the Build-a-Bear in the pink tutu. Sophie’s blue eyes flash open and she stares at him.
“Da?”
He yawns tiredly. “Go back to sleep, sweetie. It’s okay.”
But even at three in the morning, she won’t relent. She got the bossiness from Meredith, too. And he doesn’t even want to imagine what her teenage years will be like if she’s this good now when she’s still in diapers.
“Da seep?” Sophie asks him quietly, holding her blanket out to him.
Again: cheap violin.
Derek smiles, resettling himself next to her, wriggling his body back and forth like an impatient child as he finds a semi-comfortable position. He’s not sure if king sized cribs even exist, but now more than ever, he’s wishing Sophie had one.
“Yeah, let’s sleep,” he agrees, finally deciding that lying flat on his back with his legs twisted into a pretzel is the best option there is.
Sophie steamrolls over him to get to the other side, and cuddles herself next to Derek. After pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek, she rests her head on his chest, and Derek covers them both with the blanket.
“Daddy loves you, Sophie,” he murmurs right before sleep washes over him, his tiny daughter wrapped protectively into his right arm.
…
It’s half past six when Meredith comes home, trudging tiredly up the steps to get some much needed rest. Her first stop is her daughter’s nursery, and as soon as she peeks her head through the door, all of the exhaustion she’d been feeling mere seconds ago is replaced with something else entirely. Love for her two favorite people, snuggled together under a pink blanket.
She gingerly walks in socked feet over to the crib and peers in, smiling down at her husband and their daughter. Meredith bites her lip as she pulls her phone from her pocket and takes a picture. It’s cheesy, yes, but how can she not? After setting it as her new background wallpaper-something she knows will make Cristina gag if she ever sees it-Meredith smoothes her fingers through Derek’s hair.
His eyes open slowly and he smiles up at her. “Hey,” Derek says in a barely audible whisper.
“I missed the slumber party?” she teases just as quietly.
“Hmm… you did.”
“She won’t wake up now. Why don’t we just carry her into our bed? We can all sleep there,” Meredith offers.
Derek rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Why didn’t I think of that last night?”
“Because you’re a good daddy,” she giggles sympathetically. “One that’s going to need a back massage… and probably a chiropractor.”
“I don’t know how you’re able to do this and not feel sore,” Derek says, pseudo complimenting her on her crib sleeping mastery.
Meredith leans over to kiss him before kissing Sophie’s forehead. “Because I’m flexible,” she boasts. “Come on; let’s go.”
She scoops their daughter up out of the crib and her hand brushes something wet. “What is that?” Meredith asks.
Derek glances over at the wet spot on Sophie’s teddy bear before he climbs out of the crib, barely able to stand up because his legs are so cramped. “Oh. I think I drooled on her Build-a-Bear,” he shrugs. “That was my pillow.”
“There’s a spare pillow sandwiched between the wall and the crib that I use. You know, just for future reference,” Meredith tells him, Sophie cradled in her arms.
Derek chuckles as they walk toward their bedroom. “Good to know.”