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"Da- deeee!"came a small yell from the room next door. It was followed by a broken wail.
"D-a-a-ddy."
"Mm." Negan groaned as he turned over in bed to face Carol. He squinted his eyes open to see she still had hers shut.
"It's your turn, Momma." He reminded her.
It was the third time Vincent had woken them up that night, not that it could really be considered 'night' anymore, the dawn was already slowly creeping in through the drapes. It was a new day.
Carol hummed and pushed Negan's chest.
"It's your name he's crying, Daddy." She answered before rolling away from him.
Shit.
Never one to argue over who was going to tend to their son, especially since Carol was the one who had spent many months getting up to feed him, Negan sat up.
He held onto the mattress and yawned, giving the room a chance to stop spinning as he adjusted to being upright. A warm hand on his lower back prompted him to glance back around.
"He only yells for you cos he knows you'll bring him through here." Carol blinked up at him.
"I know, I know. I won't." Negan promised as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants that had been lying crumpled on the floor.
He rubbed his eye with one hand and rummaged through the top drawer of his dresser with his other.
"You know, we used to keep way more exciting shit in here." Negan turned around with a grin, a blue pacifier in one hand and a blankie in the other.
He had expected to get a laugh but his comment fell on deaf ears, Carol was already sound asleep again. She had rolled onto her stomach and was cuddling into her pillow.
Negan's knees complained as he stood up with a groan. Becoming a father had aged him immensely, his body seemed to be forgiving him less and less for any hours that he spent chopping wood or running around during the PE classes he held, but he wouldn't have it any other way. The life he led now was one he'd only ever dreamed of before. He was more than content with being an old greying dad.
Fully armed with the weapons from his drawer, Negan slowly opened the nursery door and peered inside to find Vincent standing up in the crib, smiling sweetly while tears still tracked down his red cheeks. Negan didn't let that smile fool him, the way he had been shaking the bars, the stripes on his onesie could easily be mistaken for those of a convict, begging for release.
"Up," Vincent demanded as Negan entered the room, his hands grabbing at the air now.
"It's still sleepy time, Vinny." Negan leaned over the crib to brush back Vincent's soft brown curls.
Vincent mumbled out an incoherent string of words as he held his arms up. He wiggled his fingers in Negan's direction.
"Sh, shh... " Negan whispered and brushed his hair back again. "Lay down, Vin."
