#dad!deaky

“Listen close. Can you hear how it changes when I put my finger on the fret?”

Teddy watched his father’s hands in rapt attention as John played an open G followed by a C note three frets down. 

“It goes a bit higher, yeah?” John said. “Here, you try. You strum and I’ll play different notes.”

A grin lit the five-year-old’s face as his small fingers plucked the bass strings, listening in wonder as John’s right hand moved deftly over the fretboard to produce a string of notes in the choppy beat of his son’s strumming. 

“I’m playing, daddy!” Teddy said, beaming.

John smiled. “And you're quite good, aren't you? Pretty soon your uncles will be asking you to play instead of me.”

“Oh, we’d already considered it,” Roger teased, habitually twirling his drumsticks. “Little tyke’s already as good as you when you started, Deaks.”

Teddy grinned. “You’re silly, Uncle Rog.”

Roger stuck his tongue out at the boy, making Teddy giggle.

“You ought to learn guitar too, Teddy,” Brian said from the couch, tuning the Red Special.

“Don't twist it too tight, Uncle Bri,” Teddy warned. “It might break the string.”

Brian smiled, glancing up at John, knowing Teddy was most likely repeating a warning his father had given him about tuning his bass. John just smiled and shrugged.

“That so?” Brian asked Teddy.

The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh, daddy said so.”

Brian chuckled. “Your daddy's right. It's not good to make the strings too tight, but I promise I'll take good care not to.”

Teddy glowed with pride that his advice had been useful, completely oblivious to the fact that nobody knew the Red Special better than Brian did. He opened his mouth to say something else, perhaps to offer more advice on the guitar, but his attention was drawn to Freddie’s entrance into the dressing room. 

“Uncle Freddie,” Teddy said with amazement, his hand falling from the bass strings. “Are you Superman?”

Freddie looked confused for a moment before he looked down at his shirt, remembering the Superman logo emblazoned across the chest. He laughed and hunkered down to be at Teddy’s height.

“Unfortunately not,” he said. “But I am friends with him. He let me borrow this shirt for the show tonight.”

Teddy’s eyes widened. “You’re really friends with Superman?”

Freddie grinned, completely comfortable with showing his smile around his family. “Sure I am, darling. And he told me to tell you that you’d make an awfully good superhero too.”

Teddy fairly beamed at him. “I can play bass too, Uncle Freddie, and be a superhero.”

“You can?” Freddie asked, the excitement in his tone showing his love for the boy. “Go on and show me, then.”

Teddy looked up at his father. “Could we show Uncle Freddie?”

“Sure,” John said with a smile. “Go ahead and play on the bottom and I’ll play on the top.”

Teddy drew his hand over the strings, looking to Freddie for his approval. Freddie smiled at him and kissed his cheek, absolutely taken with the little boy.

“You’ve got a talent on your hands, haven’t you, Deaky?” Freddie said as he stood. He gave Teddy a wink. “Not even Superman can play bass as well as that.”

Teddy giggled. “Keep making the notes, daddy.”

John chuckled. “Alright, keep strumming and I'll keep making the notes for you.”

You watched as your son continued to play with the bass slung low across his father's chest, John creating a melody from it almost automatically even as his attention was drawn to you. You'd been watching the adorable scene from John's chair that you'd claimed when you first came backstage, unable to keep from smiling as you saw your two favorite boys playing together. John smiled as he met your eyes, his own bright with happiness.

“How do we sound, Mrs. Deacon?” he asked.

You stood and came over to them, giving John a chaste kiss. “Best I’ve ever heard.”

Teddy looked up at you and grinned. “Do you hear me playing, mummy?”

You ruffled his curly brown hair, so like his father’s. “I do!” you said. “You and daddy sound lovely together.”

A knock sounded on the dressing room door; a moment later, Gerry, the boys’ tour manager, stuck his head in.

“Ready, lads?” he asked. “You’re on in ten.”

Teddy looked up at John. “You’re going to play?”

“It’s almost time,” John agreed. “You and mum are going to watch from backstage.”

“We could watch the whole show?” Teddy asked, alight with excitement. “With the lights and the explosions and everything?”

John laughed. “Explosions? Last time we tried to have explosions, Uncle Rog nearly got blasted right off stage.”

“We’re not repeating that experience, thank you very much,” Roger said, standing and tapping Teddy’s head lightly with one of his drumsticks. Teddy laughed and grabbed for it and Roger gave it to him, still twirling the remaining one.

“How do you do that, Uncle Rog?” Teddy wondered.

Roger grinned. “I’ll teach you sometime,” he said, adjusting the bandanna around his neck. “And your mum will get onto me for it.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you influenced my impressionable son, would it, Rog?” you teased.

Roger laughed. “Hey, he’s turned out alright. Besides, could you really have expected anything else?”

Teddy tugged on the hem of Roger’s shirt with his free hand, the other holding the drumstick in the middle, turning his wrist back and forth. “Like that?”

Roger chuckled. “Close. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“And then we’ll have drumsticks flying all over the place, won’t we?” Brian said. A look of worry crossed his face as Teddy drew his hand close to his chest at Brian’s approach, looking at the guitar he held with a near fearful reverence.

“What is it?” Brian asked.

“Mummy said I’ve got to be very careful with Red Special,” Teddy said in a hushed voice. “I don’t want to hit it.”

Brian gave a soft laugh. “Oh,” he said. “Thanks for being careful. You can play it sometime if you want.”

Teddy gasped. “Really?”

“Sure,” Brian said. “Next time you come with daddy to the studio, I’ll show you how to play some, hm?”

Teddy grinned, but his reply broke off into delighted laughter as Freddie scooped him up from behind and kissed his cheek.

“Come on, you,” he said, making his way towards the door. “Let’s go see how many people are in the audience.”

“Do you think there’s hundreds?” Teddy asked, his little arms circling Freddie’s neck.

“Thousands, even,” Roger said, following them. 

Teddy’s head popped over Freddie’s shoulder. “You coming, Uncle Bri?”

Brian chuckled. “Right behind you, little bear.”

Roger threw a smirk towards you and John. “You two behave; I know Deaky’s fast, but he’s not that fast.”

“Roger Taylor,” you said, playfully aghast. Having been with John for ten years now, eight of them happily married, you were more than used to the affectionate teasing that came with being friends with the boys as close to you and John as brothers. When Teddy was born, you’d never actually had a discussion about what your son would call the boys; they’d been his uncles from the time he could talk, and they loved him as if he was their own flesh and blood. You were so thankful for the way your little boy had grown up and would continue to grow up always knowing he was loved. Roger, Freddie, and Brian were family, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But with family came endless ribbing, of course, especially from Roger. You stuck your tongue out at him and he did the same as he followed Freddie and Brian out towards the backstage proper, leaving you and John alone in the dressing room.

“I dunno,” John said. He stepped closer to you, a grin playing on his face. “Maybe we ought to try and prove Roger wrong, what do you think?”

You bit your lip, unable to help entertaining the thought for a second. He did look awfully handsome in that light blue.

“Tempting,” you said. You tugged on the lapel of his black leather jacket.

“Tell me about it,” he teased. He put his hand on the bass to keep it from bumping you as he leaned down to kiss you, a little less chastely than he would have if you hadn’t been alone. You couldn’t help a sigh as he nipped at your bottom lip, his pre-show energy evident in his body language.

“Mmh, John,” you said against his mouth. “We can’t.”

He breathed a laugh. “No?”

You tangled your fingers in his curls despite yourself. “No, you’re on in five minutes.”

He took you by the chin and gave you one last kiss, quick and cheeky. He grinned as he pulled back.

“How would you feel about revisiting this after the show?” he asked. “It’s been a while since we’ve made a mess of a dressing room.”

You wiped a smudge of your lip gloss from his mouth, smiling as he kissed your fingers. 

“Too long, really,” you said. The two of you used to be positively wild at shows, fast and hungry before with nervousness and excitement, or lazy and languid in coming down from the adrenaline high afterwards. More than once had the boys caught you going at it, but the novelty of the backstage dressing room was too good to pass up. You’d only started to give it up when Teddy was born, because you’d started going to less shows and at the ones you did go to you usually had Teddy in tow.

“Who’ll we put on babysitting duty tonight?” John asked.

“Who cares?” you joked. “The boys should be able to handle him for a few minutes between the three of them, don’t you think?”

John smirked. “Who said anything about a few minutes? We’ve got to make up for lost time, Mrs. Deacon.”

“I’m with you all the way, honey, I really am,” you said, trying to keep yourself in check. “But you’re about to be making up for lost concert time if you don’t get out there.”

He groaned. “Ugh, fine, if you insist. You go ahead of me, though.”

You gave him a suspicious frown. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said easily. “I just rather enjoy the view.”

“You’re incorrigible, you know?”

He grinned and gave you a kiss. “Ah, but you like me like that, don’t you?”

You pushed him away even as you smiled. “Don’t push your luck, Deacon.”

He followed you out of the dressing room, no doubt enjoying the view like he said he would. As you came to the curtained area just off stage, though, his attention was quickly drawn to his son barreling full-speed at him.

“There’s hundreds and hundreds of people, daddy!” Teddy said excitedly, skidding to a halt just in front of his father.

“Yes, they’re rather loud, aren’t they?” John asked, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the crowd. 

“You’re going to be even louder, aren’t you?” Teddy asked gleefully. 

John smiled. “We’ll certainly try.”

“Alright, boys,” Gerry told them. “At the thunder, you’re good to go.”

You remembered that John had warned you they were using thunder sounds to usher in the first song, a bit worried that it might scare Teddy. 

Gerry motioned to the other side of the stage. “Roger, Brian, places please.”

They gave their bandmates one final grin as they headed around to the other side of the stage they would enter from. Freddie and John looked to each other, the energy palpable between them colored by the little bit of nervousness that they would never completely shake even if they performed to crowds like this a thousand more times. They were ready.

“Say bye to daddy,” you said, gently guiding Teddy closer to you. “It’s time for them to play!”

Teddy obeyed and wrapped his arms around your leg, the noise of the crowd a little frightening for him, despite how excited he was. You had no doubt that he’d been clinging to Freddie the entire time you and John had been backstage; hopefully he’d warm up a little as the concert started.

You took John’s face in your hands and kissed him. “Good luck, sweetheart. Show those kids what real bass playing is.”

John grinned. “That’s the plan. I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too.”

“See you in a bit, buddy,” John said, ruffling his son’s curls as he walked over to join the Freddie at the edge of the stage. You watched your husband walk out on stage to meet his brothers, all smiles and energy as they were greeted with a wave of noise that could only be described as ecstatic. You picked Teddy up and held him on your hip; suddenly the sound of crashing thunder echoed through the arena, making Teddy jump. You gave a sympathetic laugh and held him closer.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s just the sound,” you said. “Look, daddy’s going up on the steps close to Uncle Roger.” You pointed to John’s unmistakable figure standing squarely on the steps of the drum risers, wanting to anchor Teddy with something he would find exciting rather than scary. A rainbow of lights swept up the stage, catching in the theatrical smoke; after another of the artificial peals of thunder and the accompanying rise in volume from the audience, you heard the familiar wail of the Red Special as Brian began to play.

Read part 2!

“That’s Uncle Brian!” Teddy told you, his face lighting up as Brian began playing the opening chords to “We Will Rock You”. Teddy’s smile only got broader as Roger set in on the drums, quickly followed by John’s bassline and Freddie’s vocalizations as he played with the crowd.

“Where’s daddy?” Teddy asked, craning his neck to see through the smoke and flashing lights.

“Right there,” you said, finding him off the drum risers already. If there was one thing that could be counted on during a Queen concert, it was that your husband couldn’t stand to stay in the same place for more than a few seconds. Freddie gallivanted across the stage very noticeably, but if you took your attention from John for a second, he’d be off somewhere else before you noticed he was gone. It had always been something that amused you about him, and Teddy hadn’t yet figured out that there really was no telling where his father would be on stage at any given moment.

When John did find a place to settle for a moment, he’d more than make up for his lack of distance traveled across the stage by dancing. As soon as Freddie started singing, John was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his playing perfectly in time as his whole body moved along to the beat.

“Mud on your face, big disgrace!” Teddy sang with Freddie, his fear of the noise quickly overcome by one of the songs he’d known by heart since he was old enough to talk. He wriggled in your arms to be set down and you obliged, watching him with a smile on your face as he danced and sang every word. He danced just like his father, bending at the knees, jumping and kicking to the beat.

You looked back up as they transitioned to playing “Let Me Entertain You”, seeing John hop from one foot to the other on the drum riser steps. Watching him dance on stage never failed to make you smile like it had done the very first time you’d seen him perform, back when they were still playing pubs. You’d taken to calling him your “bouncy boy”, endeared to the way he put his heart and his body into every single song they played. 

No one had prepared you for how easily your heart would be stolen by another bouncy boy, a little replica of his father down to the bob of his copper brown curls as he danced. If you’d thought John couldn’t keep still to save his life, Theodore Taylor Deacon was ten times worse. Between the two of them they were never lost for energy, always fiddling with something and unable to stay still. Though some days it was a little hard to keep up with them, moments like this reminded you that you wouldn’t have changed your two bouncy boys for the world. 

You watched them happily, Teddy’s adorable laughter at the sheer energy of the concert mingling with the sound of the songs that never failed to amaze you in their beauty and intensity. At some point John stepped off stage to take off his jacket, tossing it to you without really taking his attention from the stage where Freddie was talking to the audience. You didn’t mind, knowing he was in his concert mindset and very little could pull him from it. You caught his jacket and folded it neatly over your arm, happy to help everything go as smoothly for John as you could.

“Can I wear daddy’s jacket?” Teddy asked. You breathed a laugh as you took a look at him, his hair damp with sweat, breathing heavily from his dancing.

“You sure?” you asked. It was always hot backstage even if you weren’t skipping around the whole square footage of it, and you could feel the warmth of John’s body heat still on his jacket. “Might get a little warm.”

“Just for a minute,” he pressed. 

You held the jacket open for him, smiling to yourself as his hands didn’t even reach halfway through the sleeves. The hem was nearly on the ground but Teddy didn’t seem to mind, beaming up at you as he waved a sleeve.

“Do I look like daddy?” he asked.

You felt such adoration for him you thought your heart might burst. “Yes, you do,” you told him. “Just like daddy.”

Teddy grinned and continued to dance, albeit a little slower with the weight of the jacket and the relative calmness of “Killer Queen” that they were playing at the moment. Suddenly, at the end of Brian’s solo, the stage went black; Teddy’s yelp of panic quickly turned to a gasp of delight as he recognized the transition to his very favorite Queen song.

“The machine of a dream!” he sang at the top of his voice as the stage lights flashed back on, his high voice blending with Roger’s raspy vocalization. You could tell Roger was tired; he’d been drumming his heart out as he always did, and drumming and singing at the same time was hard work. You made a mental note to tell Roger how excited Teddy had been to sing along with him, knowing it would make Roger smile.

The stage went black again as the crowd applauded Roger’s drum solo. Green lights dimly lit the stage and you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest as you knew what came next; sure enough, the deep twang of John’s bass strings delivered the first notes of “Get Down, Make Love” and you felt your mind wandering to your post-concert plans with your husband.

As if reading your mind, John looked over towards you as blue lights joined the green on stage, giving you a wink as he played the four notes you’d never been able to associate with anything other than being absolutely wild for your husband since the first time he’d recorded them. The song never failed to put you and John in the mood, and you’d drunkenly confessed that to Freddie one night at a party only to be met by Freddie’s delighted laughter. “That was the intended effect, darling,” he’d said. “I’m glad to know it works.”

It worked, alright; that much you could say for sure, biting your lip as you watched how John moved his hips against his bass and studied how his long fingers danced across the strings. You would have spent the whole song with John holding your rapt attention had it not been for Teddy wrapping his arms around your leg, clinging to you again as the song slowly dissolved into the eerie noise used on the studio version. The main lights went off and stayed off, only the glow of the now slightly sinister rainbow lights traveling over the stage giving it light. You picked Teddy up and held him close, bundled in John’s jacket, rocking him gently as you kissed his forehead. You had to admit that it was a bit unsettling, even for you, as the ghostly wail of the Red Special echoed through the dark.

“It’s kind of scary, mummy,” Teddy said in a small voice, his face buried in your neck to hide from the dark.

You patted his back soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just Uncle Brian and Red Special.”

“Where’s daddy?” Teddy asked.

“He’s okay,” you assured him, knowing he was worried. “He’s still on stage. The lights will come on in a minute and you’ll be able to see him.”

A moment later a whistle sounded, Roger coming in strong on the drums to bring the song to its rocking finish. The white lights came back on and you were immediately met by the sight of John bouncing and swiveling on his feet.

“There’s your daddy right there,” you said to Teddy. “See?”

Teddy lifted his head and nodded, the color returning to his face as he saw John was perfectly fine and in fact having a great time. If John was okay and thought it was a good time to dance, then everything must be alright.

Teddy seemed to need a little bit more time to get settled from that fright, though; you trusted your maternal instinct and continued to pat his back to soothe him like you had since he was a baby, holding him close and letting him rest his head on your shoulder again. Thankfully the next song was slow; Brian played piano and you rocked Teddy in time with his playing. You sang along with Freddie, singing “Save Me” like a lullaby to your little boy.

By the time Freddie started playing with the audience after the next song, Teddy was back to his usual exuberant self and happily joined in with the audience’s part of the call and response. You set him down and he mimicked Freddie in his wild gesticulations, the sleeves of John’s jacket flapping adorably with every movement.

The rest of the concert continued without incident, Teddy every bit as invested as the audience through the remaining hour of the show. You had to hold him back from rushing at Freddie when he came backstage after “Tie Your Mother Down”, knowing Freddie was only popping back very quickly to change into a pair of shorts before the next song. Though Freddie didn’t have time to hug and talk to Teddy like you knew both would have liked, he did give Teddy a smile and encourage him to keep dancing as he went back onstage.

Teddy did as Freddie said, dancing his little heart out until the very last song. He looked up at you as the strains of “God Save the Queen” echoed through the arena, recognizing it as the traditional end to Queen’s concert sets. 

“Is that the end, mummy?” he asked. You could barely hear him over the incredibly loud but well-deserved cheers and applause as the boys made their final bows.

“That’s the end,” you agreed. “Look, here they come now.”

Teddy turned when you gestured to the stage, his expression lighting up as his father and his uncles made their way offstage towards him. He took off like a shot towards his father, wrapping his arms around John’s leg. John stepped back a step to steady himself, a little surprised at the greeting, moving his bass out of the way so it wouldn’t hit Teddy.

“How was it?” John asked, a smile playing on his features as he looked down at his boy.

“Amazing!” Teddy gushed. “I was dancing with you the whole time, and it was so loud, and you played so many songs, daddy!”

“Don’t I know it,” John agreed with a chuckle. “You’ve got my jacket, I see.”

Teddy flapped the sleeves for effect. “It’s too big for me.”

John laughed outright. “I think you’re right. Come on, let’s go see mum.”

John pulled the strap of the bass over his head, handing the instrument to Ratty to be put away. He guided Teddy with a protective touch to his shoulder, steering him towards you, and you couldn’t help but smile at your two favorite boys.

“Fancy seeing you here,” John said, drawing close to you. You could tell from his voice alone that he was tired; you ran your hand up and down his arm in an effort to soothe.

“I was off with my boyfriend,” you teased. “But I ditched him to come see you.”

He grinned. “As any proper groupie should do. I’d expect nothing less from the girl who’s been coming to my shows for as long as you have.”

Teddy looked up at the two of you. “What’s a groupie?”

You met each other’s eyes, amusement and surprise warring for dominance as you tried to think of what to say in answer. Thankfully you were rescued by Roger, who scooped Teddy up and set him on his shoulders. 

“You’ll learn all about what groupies are when you’re older, little rock ‘n roll man,” Roger said. Teddy was happy to forget it in favor of chattering on about how loudly he’d sung “I’m in Love With My Car”, which brought a huge grin to Roger’s face as he listened. Roger took Teddy over to see Brian and Freddie at his request, giving you and John a moment’s peace from your energetic little boy.

“How was it?” you asked him. It had seemed perfect from your end, but you knew there was an added layer of perspective John had from actually performing.

“Good, yeah,” he said. “No major hiccups, no broken strings or anything like that. What did you think?”

You smiled. “I thought it was great. ‘Get Down, Make Love’ scared Teddy a bit, but other than that we both loved it.”

John gave you a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah? And what did you think of ‘Get Down, Make Love’, Mrs. Deacon?”

“Other than it making me jealous of your bass?” you ask, giving him a coy smile. “Between your hips and your fingers, I couldn’t help but wish you were playing me instead.”

You twined your fingers with his and give him a kiss; though he responded as he always did in leaning closer to your touch, you could tell he wasn’t nearly as passionate as you were. You pulled back and took his hand in both of yours, noticing the slight tremor there. He was always a bit shaky after shows as he came down from the adrenaline high, and you gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Tired?” you asked.

His grimace was apologetic. “Kind of, sorry. I know we had plans.”

“That’s ok, honey,” you assured him gently. Truth be told you were tired too, and though you could have gladly gone a few rounds in the dressing room if he’d been up for it, you were also perfectly happy to take him home and let the three of you get some rest. “It’ll make next time even better. Let’s get Teddy and head home, how does that sound?”

He gave a sigh of relief. “I’d love that. Thank you.”

You gave him a chaste kiss and brushed his sweat-dampened curls back from his face, smiling up at him as you kept your hand in his and looked over to where Brian, Freddie, and Roger were all watching Teddy demonstrate his dance moves. For three rock ‘n rollers, they always melted the instant Teddy came around and showed their true natures as the huge softies they were at heart. Freddie gave a delighted laugh as Teddy mimicked a signature Mercury move.

“Perfect,” Freddie said. “Better than I do it, even.”

Teddy beamed under the love and attention of his uncles; even though he was shy by nature, just like his father, he was completely at home with Roger, Brian, and Freddie. You leaned closer to John and he put his arm around your waist as you watched the people you loved most in the world.

Teddy yawned and rubbed the too-long sleeve of John’s jacket over his face. “Red Special didn’t sound like a guitar, Uncle Brian.”

Brian chuckled as he picked Teddy up and held him close to his chest. “What did she sound like?”

Teddy rested his head on Brian’s collarbone. “She sounded like a ghost one time and it was scary.”

“Oh no,” Brian said, giving a sympathetic laugh. “I think I know which song you’re talking about. I’m sorry it scared you, little bear.”

Brian had called Teddy “little bear” since the day he’d come to the hospital to see the newest addition to the Deacon family, shyly presenting an astronaut teddy bear as a gift for the baby. You hadn’t told anyone what you were naming your son - Roger firmly denied that it made him tear up to know he was the boy’s namesake, but you knew better - and it had seemed like fate that Brian had brought a teddy bear for him. Too nervous to hold him at first, Brian had tucked the bear next to Teddy in the hospital bassinet. Freddie had said how sweet it was to see the two little bears together, and Brian had taken the name to heart. From then on, Theodore Taylor Deacon had always been Brian’s “little bear”. 

“It’s okay,” Teddy said. “It was only scary for a minute, but then Red Special sounded like Red Special again.”

“Good thing you reminded me not to tighten the strings too much, hm?”

Teddy smiled. “Good thing!”

As Teddy yawned again, you knew it was time to start heading home. Doubtless the boys had plans to go out and party like they usually did after shows, but for your five-year-old, bedtime had long since passed. You eased out of John’s hold and went over to Brian, taking your little boy from him.

“Say goodnight,” you said as he wrapped his arms around your neck.

 “Goodnight,” Teddy said, giving his uncles a little wave. All three smiled and waved back.

“Night, Teddy,” Roger said.

“Thanks for coming to see us,” Freddie added.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Brian said.

Teddy nodded. “Okay.”

John came up behind you and put his arm around your waist. “Night, boys. You’re off to dance the night away, I presume?”

“Roger’s already got a date set up, haven’t you, Rog?” Freddie teased.

Roger grinned. “I have, thank you.”

“Freddie and I are going out to that club we saw last night,” Brian added. “See if we can’t drum up a little fun here in the lovely city of Montreal.”

John smiled. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Freddie laughed. “You stuck your hand through a plate-glass window, darling. I think it’s safe to say there’s very little you wouldn’t do.”

John chuckled. “That’s true,” he admitted. “Be safe. We’ll leave the door unlocked for you when you come in.”

“A gentleman, as always,” Roger teased. “What would we do without you?”

“Are you coming home soon, Uncle Rog?” Teddy asked, his voice soft with sleepiness.

Roger looked like he could have melted. “I might have a bit of a sleepover at my friend’s house, but Uncle Brian and Uncle Freddie will come home tonight. And I’ll come home tomorrow.”

“Can we play tomorrow?” Teddy asked.

“To your heart’s content, kiddo,” Roger promised. “So be good for mummy and daddy and get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay,” Teddy agreed.

You shifted Teddy on your hip. “You remember the address?” you asked the boys.

All three of them recited the address of your grandparents’ summer home back to you.

“Let’s hope your memory stays intact when you’re drunk,” John teased.

“Call if you can’t remember it or get in some kind of trouble,” you reminded them, hearing your worried mom voice surface almost involuntarily. They smiled as they recognized your tone, one you’d used even before having Teddy as you fussed over the four of them.

“Will do,” Brian promised.

“Go on and get that baby into bed,” Freddie said. “He’s nearly asleep already.”

“Which one?” you joked. You knew he was referring to Teddy, but looking at your husband, you knew he was nearly as ready for bed as his son.

“You’re teasing, but he really does look dead on his feet,” Freddie said. He smiled at John. “Let your lady take you home, Deaky.”

John chuckled. “If you insist. Goodnight, all.”

“Goodnight,” they chorused back. You let John lead you back to the dressing room, his hand settled protectively on the small of your back as Teddy leaned his head on your shoulder.

Read part three!

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