#dad!thomas

Thomas was used to hearing screams, he’s always surrounded by them. But this was a different kind, a different pitch and reason and this scream. Haunted him.

He’d been banished to the living room, where he was currently bouncing his leg as he sat on the couch. He suddenly stood up, then sat down again. Stood again, took a few steps, and sat down in the armchair instead, bouncing his leg again. He barely even noticed when his adoptive brother came into the room, flopped down on the couch, and turned the TV on. Tommy jerked at the sudden voice coming from the TV.

“Relax, kid.”, Hoyt muttered as he took a sip from his drink. “Can’t do nothin’ about it.”

Tommy huffed in response, his fingers twitching against the armrest.

“Fuckin’ christ…”, the older man got up from his place on the couch and left the room. Thomas listened after him, glass clinking against the glass, feet shuffling back towards the living room. “Drink this. Ya need to calm down.”, Hoyt put the glass in Thomas’ hand for him and sat down again. He usually didn’t drink, but now, he took the amber liquid in one smooth move. He hissed slightly as it burned in his throat on the way down.

At some point, he had completely missed the fact that the screaming coming from upstairs had gotten quiet. It was… too quiet. The realization made his nerves go haywire again, and the sound of running footsteps caught his attention. Something even his brother reacted to.

“Oh my god…”, Tommy thought to himself. “What if something happened?”, he shot a worried look towards his brother. “Tommy, don’t you- THOMAS!”, in a flash, the giant man was on his feet, rushing towards the stairs. A door closed somewhere upstairs, and then; more screaming. Behind him, he heard the squeaky wheelchair of his uncle Monty on his way out on the porch before he heard him speak. “Ya better listen to what your mama told ya, boy. You ain’t allowed up there.”, the screen door slammed as the man reached his destination.

An hour went by, something that felt like 10 years for Thomas, before he was allowed up. A whisper of his name came from the middle of the stairs, mama. “Tommy, sweetheart.”, his footfalls were heavy as he rushed up towards her but she stopped him with a hand on his chest and sushed him. “You need to be quiet, alright?”, he looked down at her, worry in his eyes, and nodded. Stepping to the side, she let him continue climbing the stairs in silence. Reaching the top, he slowly turned to look at her. “Go on, hun.”, her voice wavered as if she was on the brink of crying.

Raising a hand, he signed a simple “Love you”, towards her before sneaking his way to the shared bedroom. The familiar coppery scent of blood waft past him from the bathroom.

The bedroom door creaked as he slowly pushed it open and peered inside. Inside, the room was bathing in the setting sun, hues of pink, red, and orange danced over every part. But the most beautiful thing being illuminated was placed on the bed. There he saw the one person in the whole of Texas who would be crazy enough to fall for him, the butcher. The nightmare parents warned their kids about.

You.

Everyone always screams when they see him. But not you, no. When your group had first gotten trapped you just looked at him. You didn’t scream like the rest, didn’t wail. All you did was beg, you talked to him. Tried to get inside his head, to create a connection.

It's been years now, so many years. And now, here you were. In your shared bed, holding a small, unmoving bundle in your arms, cooing softly at the new life. Slowly, he moved towards you and smiled when you looked up at him, reaching an arm out. “Hi.”, you whispered and he smiled, a raspy and low “hi” coming from him as he knelt by you on the floor.

“How are you feeling?”, he signed. “Sore. And tired. But I’ll live.”, you hummed as you felt a warm hand come to rest on your cheek. “You wanna hold her?”, you smirk and quickly glance to a crib at the end of your bed. He froze slightly at the question. Her. He had always wanted a daughter.

Rising, he carefully planted himself on the edge of the bed, slowly pushing the edge of the blanket away from his daughter's face. She had his nose, or well… The nose he had before his condition took it away from him. She looked serene, calm, his chest swelled as he saw small movements in her face. Brows knitting together and relaxing, lips moving slightly. “Tommy?”, your voice broke him from his reverence and he nodded. Doing your best to push yourself up against the headboard, you nodded towards the door. “Can you… can you get mama first?”, he caressed your cheek again and kissed your forehead before leaving to go get her.

Thomas was quickly at the bed again, sitting down where he was earlier seated. Ever so carefully, you handed him his daughter. She was... So, so small. He’d never seen such a small creature up close before, never held one. He was scared to hurt her, knowing his strength. Maybe he would crush her? Looking at her, he was lost again. Lost in his mind.

- I’m never going to let anything happen to you. I’m going to crush anyone who comes for you.

He heard you talk with mama, he did. But the feeling of the chunky cheek of his daughter against his rough, calloused finger had him in a trance. He only came out of it when he - in the corner of his eye - saw you reach up for something. “-mas?”, a giggle left you as you saw him come back to earth, locking eyes with you. He looked terrified.

It wasn’t until he saw you reach down, below the edge of the blanket you held in your arms, and started cooing softly at something that made a small sound that it hit him.