Ducky and Daddy - Snippets

Ducky

Deedee's thoughts were buzzing, and her body felt heavy with all the little things she had to juggle. She was sitting at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea that had gone lukewarm. Her thoughts were miles away.

Bear noticed. He always did.

He watched her for a moment from the doorway, studying the way her shoulders were hunched and the small frown between her brows. She hadn't asked for help. She hadn't even said anything was wrong. But she was closing herself off, retreating inside her own head like she often did when the weight of the day grew too much.

He could hear the soft click of her tea spoon as she set it down, but he didn't say anything right away. Just crossed the kitchen and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, waiting for her to notice he was there.

When she did, she startled, looking up at him with wide, almost surprised eyes.

"You're tired, baby girl," he said gently, his voice low, warm, steady. "Come here."

Deedee opened her mouth to protest—she didn't want to be a burden, didn't want to show how fragile she felt—but the words didn't come. Instead, she slid off the chair and walked over to him, as if her body already knew what her heart was too hesitant to admit. She needed his comforting presence.

He reached down and cupped her face, tilting her head slightly so their eyes locked.

"Let me take care of you for a minute, my little Ducky," he said.

Ducky blinked, caught off guard by the new name. She liked the way it made her feel—cherished, protected, seen in a way she hadn't allowed herself to be before.

"Ducky?" she whispered, testing the sound of it, tasting it on her tongue.

His hands slid to her shoulders, pulling her gently toward him. "Yes, baby. You're my little Ducky. My sweet girl. Now let me hold you. You don't have to carry everything alone."

She felt the warmth of his arms wrap around her, his presence filling the space between them. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest as his hands moved to her back, rubbing slow circles.

"I want you to come to me when the weight of your day feels like too much. Let me take some of it from you. I never want you to feel like you're too much," he murmured, pressing his lips into her hair. "You're mine to care for, little Ducky. Always."

Her heart swelled, and for the first time that day, the weight lifted. She wasn't alone in it. Not anymore. Bear was here—strong, steady, and ready to take on whatever she couldn't handle.