7th March, 1893 — Kirke Home, Bartonburg

Tybalt hated Tuesdays. Tuesdays were a gross freak of nature. He had known this since his Hogwarts days, because Monday’s late-night Astronomy class had been followed by a double helping of History of Magic on Tuesday morning, which meant he had been going into class already yawning and defeated; Tuesday had been the low point of his quidditch weeks, too, the post-match slump after the weekend and the aches of Monday drills both taking their midweek toll; and nowadays at work, Tuesdays tended to be the day of too many meetings.

Today had been fairly typical in that regard – the meetings had all gone faster than usual, in fact, which should have been nice – but when Tyb came home that evening, he took off his cloak and set down his things and made a beeline for the sitting room to lie, face down, on the sofa.

Most of his senses were still muffled by the pillow he had his face pressed into, but he wasn’t alone in the room anymore, because a small body was making a concentrated attempt to climb onto him where he was sprawled. He was going to assume that was Bentley, and not the cat; Tyb murmured a greeting, and then groaned dramatically. “Guess what, Bentley? I think I’ve made a big mistake.”

His face was still in the pillow, but based on the response he got to that declaration, Tyb realised the toddler probably hadn’t come into the room alone.

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Elsie Kirke

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Being as far along as she was now, Elsie was pretty much housebound, which was fine by her on most occasions. Fortunately the weather was warming up and they would at least be able to get outside more often. It was nice when Tyb came home to have another adult to converse with that she wasn't paying to be in her house. Mrs. Robinson and Miss Halliwell were delightful of course, and incredibly helpful, and it wasn't like Elsie had many friends, but sometimes she did miss interacting with someone over the age of two.

When Tyb came home, she generally tried to give him some time to unwind before tossing Bentley at him, or pestering him herself, but their toddler had slipped away from her while she was folding some of his laundry before she could catch him. Of course getting up from where she had been sitting on the floor playing with him was also a bit of a task these days. Fortunately there weren't many places Ben could go and so Elsie followed at a leisurely pace, listening for his little hurried footsteps down the hall.

She found the pair of them in the sitting room, and she meant to scoop Ben up and give Tyb some more time, but it was too late; Ben had almost successfully climbed atop Tyb and it was too funny to stop. "Rough day?" Elsie asked instead, stretching her sore back and awkwardly trying to lower herself into the armchair across from him. An exhale of pure relief escaped her lips as she relaxed into the soft cushion, even if her brows furrowed in concern, aimed at her husband.

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babystamp ~27 weeks

  

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Tyb grasped Bentley by his leg to hold him in place when he’d managed to scale the couch, and was now sprawled on him like a little gremlin or sunbathing garden gnome. The small but solid (and slightly wriggly) weight on top of him was almost useful, though: it forced him to relax his limbs and stay there for a while longer, just breathing.

He tilted his head off the cushion so he could look across at Elsie, though. He’d known it was her – she was usually slower than Ben these days. Rough day; really, he could ask her that, given the way she was stretching and the fact that she rarely got to leave the house at the moment. (So Tyb should count himself lucky – if their positions had been reversed, he’d have been bouncing off the walls by now, and probably halfway to Bedlam.)

“Sort of,” he said, and then wrinkled his nose. “Well, not rough –” he didn’t want it to sound like he was complaining, because arguably nothing had gone wrong, but there was still no triumph in his face. He bounced Bentley a little by jogging his leg under him. “Just... unexpected.” Tyb scrunched up his face again, trying to decide how to break the news. He hadn’t thought much about it yet – his trip home had been even more of a mindless blur than usual. He was still dazed and confused. “[Cooper], you know, Head of the Commission, he’s been promoted.” He’d taken on something bigger and better in the wider department, was moving on from Duelling.

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Though she heard what her husband was saying, Elsie was too wrapped up in watching Tyb unconsciously bounce their son on his legs and the squeals of joy Ben emitted as a result. It came easily, naturally, and she was drawn back to the conversations they'd had with Ben's pregnancy about what parenting would be like. Clearly Tyb had sold himself short in this department.

"Oh," She managed after a moment of trying not to cry. These pregnancies always made her into such a blubbering mess. She wiped away an errant tear and pulled herself together. "Do they have a replacement?" Working in a department without someone heading it must have been an ordeal and a little chaotic. "I'm sure it'll be figured out." Might be a little hectic for a while, but it would all get sorted.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Tyb was too used to Elsie’s expressions – and had witnessed her sobbing on a few too many occasions before – to miss the warning signs of capital-E Emotion in her eyes. His mouth twisted slightly, worried: he didn’t know what had brought it on today, but there were plenty of options. Owen’s death; tiredness; frustration; Bentley on a rampage; the horrors of pregnancy. (Maybe they should have talked about her day first.)

And maybe his hadn’t been so very rough after all? But Elsie had asked, so he might as well get his tidbit of news out of the way before he figured out how she was in turn. Maybe by saying it aloud he’d even figure out how he was. “Well, yes – no, I mean –” Tyb tried, shooting her a sheepish look as he shifted up into a sitting position, bundling Ben with him again. “You’re going to laugh,” he predicted, a warning for how ridiculous it sounded even to him, like the kind of joke he might try and crack on an ordinary day, “but they asked me.”

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Elsie had busied herself with stretching out her sore back to avoid crying in earnest, listening to his lead into the actual information he was sharing. "Oh!" She sat up better, though instantly regretted the quick movement, wincing as she felt the sharp pain go down her spine, and slowly leaning back again. "That's so exciting! How wonderful." Elsie still worried that Tyb was miserable at work, but it seemed like at least he was doing well enough to be offered this promotion.

Fighting the discomfort in her back, Elsie blinked back a few more tears. Everything had gotten all messed up about this time two years ago and now here they were, one beautiful baby, living in their cozy little home and now Tyb was doing well at work and they had another baby on the way. And though things had seemed incredibly impossible at the time, everything had finally settled and she couldn't imagine their life together any other way. "That's such good news." She laughed, swiping away the tears, blushing a little and feeling silly for being so emotional over this.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

To Elsie’s endless credit, she didn’t laugh – and even if Tyb still wanted to crack up at the joke or perhaps in sheer nerves, instead all he could did was pause for a moment and think wow, I really love you.

He still didn’t know if exciting or wonderful was the word – it was no getting picked for the national team, or even a fraction of the feeling besides – and maybe it was something more like standing at the top of a cliff face, getting ready to jump into the water. (And maybe the landing would be fine and it would be fun, but, you know, maybe he’d smash his face in on the rocks on the way down and end up as a mess of pulp where a person used to be.)

Tybalt refrained from saying as much in words, though, and just gave her a lingering helpless look. “You think? I don’t know if I should –” take the offer, he had been about to say, but as he’d looked at Elsie he’d digested the fact that she was crying after all, even through all the positive affirmations. Tyb’s face creased up in a different way, about ready to set Bentley down on the rug and bundle her into his arms if she kept it up. He didn’t want to make her more miserable or emotional by pointing it out, but... “Els, are you, uh, okay?”

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   Elsie Kirke

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"I think you should do what you want to do." She waved her hands at her eyes trying to stem the tears. She felt silly, always so emotional during pregnancy and maybe it was just motherhood in general, but she got sappy really quickly these days.

Sniffling, she laughed quietly. "Yes," she swiped at the tears on her cheeks again. "No, my back hurts, I'm exhausted, you're such a good father and that's really a good opportunity to make us more comfortable, but not if you don't want it" Elsie blubbered quietly knowing none of that made sense or was connected in any way but it was all true. "I'm actually really happy, I promise." She had never imagined they would be so comfortable, always thought things would be stretched thin, but they weren't, things were fine, even when she wasn't working and she was relieved and overwhelmed all at once.

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   Tybalt Kirke

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MJ always makes her so pretty

I don’t know what I want, Tyb thought but didn’t say, mostly because he didn’t like the feeling of not knowing. He had used to know himself much better, or had never questioned things like he did now. Maybe that was a part of growing up, being so much less sure about everything. Choices mattered now in a way they hadn’t used to, and what he wanted no longer felt like the most important thing.

Or maybe he didn’t know what he wanted – because it was probably just this, being at home with Bentley close at hand and Elsie too, in their own house, living their own life, because unlike his work, there was never any doubt in that. He was happy here. That was easy. And – in spite of the tears – Els seemed to understand that just as well. He broke into a sheepish grin at her such a good father, which was a wildly better compliment than anything that had been said about his abilities in that Ministry meeting today, and the smile burst into a relieved laugh at the confirmation she wasn’t just deathly miserable.

He did set Bentley down at last, and moved over to Elsie, leaning over one of the arms of her armchair. “You had me for a minute there, with the tears,” he mock-chided, putting a hand to her cheek. “But me too. I promise.” In spite of work and missing them while he spent his days away from them, in spite of it all, he was happier than he had expected he would possibly be in a life like this. He grinned. “And I’d hug you if you weren’t the size of an erumpent.”

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Elsie pulled a face at his teasing about the tears, relieved that he too was happy. It was easy to see at home, but she did still worry about how it was going at work—

"I'm huuuuge," She sobbed, tears a product of laughter and discomfort. It was a strange mixture of emotions that she didn't exactly know how to let out. Looking at him incredulously, she pouted. "And it's your fault!" Elsie rubbed her belly with one hand, using the other to shove him playfully. It was his fault he was so lovable and she was happy. She was grateful, obviously, but pregnancy always sent her emotions for a loop.

Bentley toddled over and climbed into her lap now, clearly a little startled by all her noise. Els buried her nose into his curls, before peering over at Tyb again. "In all seriousness though, do whatever will keep you happy at work, we can figure the rest out." She blew out a steadying breath, managing a better smile.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

It was partially his fault and he wasn’t even a little bit sorry, except maybe for all the emotions she had to go through. Really, fathers got off lightly. But as long as he was trying to be a good one...

He never wanted work to get in the way of that, that was all. And maybe he was scared about more responsibility, too... but Elsie’s acceptance of his decision before he had so much as made one helped, somehow. And if he could make them more comfortable than they already were, maybe facing a little fear and a little added responsibility wouldn’t hurt him too badly.

He hadn’t ruled it out yet. Thanks, he mouthed, so quietly it was hardly aloud. “I know. Love you.” He said it a lot and still didn’t say it enough. But she was right. They would figure it out: they always did.

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   Elsie Kirke

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