Work Text:
1.
“Hey, dad,” Alfred says, slipping into the kitchen where his father is preparing tea. “Need help?”
Arthur throws him a smile over his shoulder and nods to the tray on the counter. “You could set the biscuits out, lad.”
Alfred nods, and lays the cookies out on the serving platter. He doesn’t say anything, but Arthur can tell that there’s something on his mind just from the look on his face.
“Alfred? Is something wrong?” Arthur sets aside the tea to steep and strokes the hair from Alfred’s forehead.
His son shakes his head and flashes Arthur one of his bright smiles. “No, nothing’s wrong. Only, Katya and I have something we wanted to tell you all. And I’m just— Nervous, I guess.”
Arthur raises his brows. “Nervous? Lad, you know you can tell us anything.”
Alfred’s smile widens, and Arthur is reminded of the boy who’d proudly showed him the dinosaur macaroni art he’d made in kindergarten, beaming all the while. “I know, dad. It’s just, well… You’ll see.” He shrugs a little helplessly and then turns back to the cookies. “We wanna tell you now though. I mean, whenever you’re ready.”
“The tea is done,” Arthur replies. “Come, we’ll bring everything out, and then you can make your announcement.” He lifts the teapot and heads for the dining room, Alfred trailing along after.
At the table, they find Yekaterina speaking with Francis and Matthew about the fertilizer she’s found for her roses. When Arthur and Alfred settle themselves at the table, she pauses to smile, and Alfred threads his fingers through hers.
“So, Alfred,” Arthur prompts, nodding to them.
Alfred shifts in his seat, and Yekaterina squeezes his hand reassuringly. “We’re going to have a baby,” he breathes, almost like he can’t believe it. “In six months, we’ll have a baby!”
“August twenty-third,” Yekaterina adds. “That’s the due date.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Matthew is clasping Alfred’s shoulder and shaking him in congratulations, and Francis is laughing with joy even as he leans over to kiss Yekaterina’s cheek.
Arthur’s heart feels fit to burst, and it’s all he can do to keep his own laughter in check. Alfred is beaming like he’s just won the lottery, so Arthur gives into the urge. Lord, he thinks. He’s going to be a grandfather.
Later, as he’s seeing Alfred and his wife off, he pulls his son aside and whispers, “I’m so very happy for you.”
2.
“Hey, dad,” is the first thing Arthur hears when he answers the phone.
“Alfred, my love,” Arthur replies, smiling. “How are you? How’s Katya feeling? I hope the morning sickness has let up.”
“It has, some,” Alfred says with a sigh. “She can keep liquids down now. The doctor’s said she can come home.”
Arthur sighs in relief. “That’s good, lad. I’m glad to hear that.” He’d spent a lot of time at the hospital with Yekaterina while Alfred had to work, sitting with her as the doctors decided just how best to manage her hyperemesis gravidarum, and he’d been just as worried as his son.
“I was just wondering where you buy those digestive cookies you like,” Alfred continues. “‘Cause Katya’s been wanting them, and she’s had so little appetite lately that I just want something in her stomach, you know?”
“Of course, of course. Why don’t I just drop them off? Francis was already planning on stopping by to weed the garden for her. We’ll come together and make you supper. Maybe Katya can keep soup down, too.”
“Yeah?” Alfred asks, and Arthur can hear the pleasure in his voice. “I’d like that.”
Arthur smiles gently, although he knows Alfred can’t see it. “We’d be happy to. It’s what family’s for.”
When Alfred answers, Arthur’s sure he’s smiling too. “Thanks, dad.”
3.
“Alfred! I wasn’t expecting you! Come in, lad,” Arthur laughs, stepping aside to let Alfred into the house.
The sun sets Alfred’s blond hair aglow almost as brightly as the smile stretched across his son’s face.
“What brings you here?”
“I just dropped Katya off at home,” Alfred replies. “We had her doctor’s appointment today, and I wanted to show you the sonogram! Is papa in?”
“No, you just missed him,” Arthur says. “His lunch break ended fifteen minutes ago, so he’s gone back to the bakery.”
“I can just leave the picture with you, then,” Alfred says. “Katya and I have copies.” He holds up an envelope as Arthur leads him to the kitchen, where he’d been sitting with his tea and the newspaper.
“Something to drink?”
“Just water,” Alfred tells him. “It’s so warm outside.”
When they sit, Alfred slides the sonogram out and proudly shows Arthur. “Look! There’s the head. And you can see her hand here. She’s got her fingers curled!”
Arthur smiles, gazing down at the image of his grandchild when Alfred’s words register. “Her? I thought you and Katya wanted it to be a surprise?” His smile is widening though, blossoming across his face till it’s nearly as bright as Alfred’s. A granddaughter, he thinks.
“Katya changed her mind,” Alfred says sheepishly. “We’re not going to tell very many people though, ‘cause she still doesn’t want to be overwhelmed with pink baby gifts. She said I could tell you and papa and Matt though, ‘cause you already told her that green is the best color for babies!”
Arthur laughs at that. “It is the best color for an infant!”
“You only say that ‘cause it’s your favorite, dad,” Alfred says, grinning when Arthur shrugs because he can’t argue with that.
He gazes down at the sonogram and runs his fingers along the curve of the baby’s head. When he looks back up at Alfred, he asks, “Do you have any ideas for a name yet?” He knows that Alfred and Yekaterina have been discussing it, but he doesn’t know how far they’ve gotten or if they’ve narrowed their choices down.
Alfred grins mischievously. “Now that is going to be a surprise.”
4.
“What if I can’t do it?” Alfred asks one evening. He’d come to watch movies with Arthur while Yekaterina went on a weekend spa trip with her sister, and now he’s laid across the couch with his head resting on Arthur’s thigh.
Arthur combs his fingers absently through Alfred’s hair and watches Frodo agree to take the Ring of Power to Mordor. “Can’t do what, my boy?”
“Be a father,” Alfred replies after a long moment of silence. He looks resolutely at the television when Arthur glances sharply down at him. “It’s just. Like, I’m happy, dad. I’m so happy and excited, but I’ve never been more scared, either.”
“More scared than when you thought your third grade teacher was an alien?” Arthur teases, even as he’s considering his answer for Alfred’s fears.
“Dad! I’m serious here.”
Arthur chuckles. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He sighs and continues, “You’ll be a good father, Alfred. It’s a big step—of course it’s scary—but you’re a good man. You can do it.”
“What if I mess up? I don’t want to ruin her.” Alfred’s voice sounds so small that Arthur’s heart clenches when he hears it, so he nudges Alfred up to hug him properly.
“You’ll make mistakes,” Arthur murmurs as Alfred presses his cheek to his shoulder. “That’s unavoidable.”
“You never made any,” Alfred mutters, and Arthur can’t help but laugh.
“That’s not true at all, Alfred. Francis and I’ve made plenty of mistakes, raising you and Matthew. I like to think we’ve made up for them, but we weren’t perfect parents. And you won’t be perfect either. But you and Katya love each other, and you’re both committed to doing the best you can for your daughter. It’s scary and it won’t be easy, but you’ll be okay. You always are.”
Alfred says nothing, but he hugs Arthur tight, and Arthur drops a kiss to his son’s head. For now, he’s eased Alfred’s fears, but when he needs more reassurance, Arthur knows he’ll be right here to give it.
5.
The first thing Arthur notices when Alfred finally steps out of Yekaterina’s room is that Alfred has never smiled more brightly than he is right now. The next thing he notices is the bundle of pale blankets Alfred cradles carefully in his arms. The sight of him holding his child has Arthur remembering another child, a rough-and-tumble boy handling a tiny mewling kitten, gentle despite his clumsy hands, and something very warm and happy settles in Arthur’s gut.
The more things change, Arthur things, the more they stay the same.
“Oh, my boy,” he breathes, stepping forward to peer down at the baby. Francis is a warm presence at his back, his hand resting gently on Arthur’s shoulder. Matthew stands beside him, and from the corner of his eye, Arthur can see him grinning. “How lovely she is.”
“Thanks,” Alfred murmurs, sniffling just a little. Francis reaches out to brush the tears from Alfred’s cheeks, but Arthur pays him no mind. He can’t take his eyes off the baby sleeping quietly against her father’s chest.
“How’s Katya feeling?” Matthew asks softly. He shifts to wrap an arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“Tired, but happy,” Alfred says. “Natalya and Ivan are sitting awhile with her, but I wanted you to meet Eleanor.”
“Eleanor,” Arthur whispers. “Beautiful.”
He finally manages to tear his gaze away from the baby to meet Alfred’s eyes. Alfred’s grinning so wide it must hurt, but Arthur knows he’s surely wearing an identical smile.
“Hey, dad,” Alfred starts. “You wanna hold her?”
Bonus:
Yekaterina shifts the newborn into his arms, and Alfred feels the tears prickling his eyes. The infant is red and squishy-faced, even in sleep, but she is the most beautiful person Alfred has ever seen.
“She’s perfect,” he breathes to his wife, lifting his eyes to gaze at her. Yekaterina is sweaty and exhausted, her hair sticking to her cheeks, but she is beaming at him more brightly than the sun. She reaches out and strokes her knuckles down the baby’s cheeks.
“Yes,” she agrees. There are tears falling unabashed from her own eyes, too, but she is glowing with joy. When he looks at her, Alfred feels like dancing, his heart beating furiously in his chest. “Absolutely perfect.”
The baby coos, wriggling, and Alfred looks down at her again and feels besotted. When she opens her cloudy newborn-blue eyes, he smiles. “Hi, Ellie,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss her. “Hi.”