http://troubleseason.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
troubleseason.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writetomyheart2016-03-03 05:28 pm
troubleseason.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2016-03-03 05:28 pm
[team sonic] N A V E A H
N E V A E H
For reeza
Starting word from here
☆
Next to at gunpoint and being dumped cold water on, being woken up to screaming is one of the last things Yoongi wishes for himself.
Yet that’s somehow what he ends up getting, at least for the last year or so. First it had been his parents, then Minjoo, and then just one person, the only person who mattered.
Yoongi wakes up to the sound of crying, soft yelping wails punctuated by whimpers. It takes him barely a moment before he’s rolling out of his bed, feet hitting the padded floor, eyes barely open in the dark as he shuffles from his room and into the hall.
It’s louder out here, getting more and more frantic as Yoongi walks towards the only other door in the hallway aside from the bathroom. Inside is a single small sleeping unit, slatted bars rising up from the base to create a protective barrier. Holding onto these bars, little hands gripping tightly and her face streaked with tears, is a very little girl.
Actually, she’s ten months old, and Yoongi sighs as he reaches down into the crib, hoisting her into his arms as she cries with a sigh. “It’s okay,” he tells her, lips pressing to the side of her head as she whimpers and cries against his shoulder. “I’m here, I’m here now.”
She lets out a few more whimpers, arms trying to loop around his neck as she snuggles closer. There is a chair in the room, similar to the old wicker rockers Yoongi used to see from photographs of Earth that was. Hoseok had gotten him this one, as a wedding gift. He’d delivered it with a huge smile and an even bigger bow on the chair. It’s comfortable, rocking easily as Yoongi sits in it, gently patting his daughter’s back as she whimpers against his chest.
“The nightmare is over,” he tells her, his own eyes closing. “I’m here. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”
It’s the promise every parent makes and hopes they can keep. The one thing Yoongi prays for when he thought he’d never pray again after too maybe prayers never went unanswered.
They say being a parent changes you, and Yoongi couldn’t agree with them more.
Looking out of the window of the room, Yoongi can see the stars passing them in the vast expanse of black beyond. It’s soothing, in a sort of humbling way, and it’s not until he’s already humming softly he realizes he’s begun. It’s just a simple tune, but one that he’s sung over and over, just a little different every time.
Outside the window is calm silence, the airless space of the universe stretching on and on as Yoongi rocks his daughter gently back to sleep, humming to her songs from a world she’ll never know. Before long, he’s rocked both of them back to sleep.
✮ Rewind ✯
Minjoo was crying, her hands around her stomach as she looked at him. Her hair was wet, as if she’d just come from the showers or had been washing her face, her skin slightly blotchy. Though that might have been from the crying.
“Help me,” Minjoo said, and looked at him with eyes filled with desperation and fear. “Please, please, Yoongi, I don’t know what to do.”
There wasn’t a lot of space in the transport quarters, at least not for more than two people and even that was a squeeze. For Yoongi, who spent most of his time at work in the cargo bays and working with Hyunsong up in the trading rooms, it as fine. He didn’t have a lot of things, and therefore didn’t need a lot of space. It was subject to scrutiny from his parents, his brother, and his friends, saying with a good job like he had, he could afford something better.
Yoongi didn’t mind though, and while it was cramped, he welcomed a frightening looking Minjoon in anyway.
“What happened?” he asked, hand on her shoulder comfortingly as he helped her to sit on one of the only chairs. There wasn’t room for more than one and Yoongi sat on the bed, trying to keep close. Just in case.
“I don’t know what to do,” Minjoo repeated in a hiccupped sob before dropping her face into her hands. “I don’t know what to do and I don’t know where to go, because if I go home like this and they- if my family finds out then-“
“Start at the beginning,” Yoongi suggested, carefully rubbing his hand along her shoulder, trying to comfort. He’d known Minjoo for years, one of the few people that had stuck in the bustle of the transport docks and trading ports. She worked in the mechanic bays, a few sectors down from him, but they got along well. She worked on most of the rigs Yoongi sent out and they’d become friends. She was fun, loud and vibrant and somewhat reckless, but a good woman. She had a good heart and a kind soul, and Yoongi liked her.
That’s probably why it hurt to look at her so upset, so out of her usual bright and happy element, her fragile open heart so clearly broken.
“Take your time.”
At that, she let out a harsh laugh, looking up at him with a bitter smile. “I don’t have time,” she said, her voice raw and cracking even as her lips trembled in a smile that shone in her eyes. It took another deep breath, her fingers twisting in her lap, over her stomach, before she finally cleared her throat and said in a soft murmur, “I’m pregnant.”
☆
It’s not the first time Yoongi wakes up in the rocking chair to the excited and very awake babbling of a little girl in his arms. It won’t be the last either. There are hands in his hair, on his face, poking at his cheeks and a stream of babbling from an excited mouth, demanding he wake up and play.
“Is it breakfast time already?” Yoongi asks, rousing enough to slip Nayeon into his lap to bounce her on his knees. She giggles mouth wide in a smile as a few teeth wink at him in her mouth. With a sigh, he scoops her up again, easily balancing her in his arms. “Or is it time to see if you have a poopy diaper?”
Nayeon gurgles at him. Yoongi smiles. It’s been a year of smiles. Smiles and late nights and less sleep than he’s had in his entire life fill up all the space in the last year, and Yoongi smiles now without wondering who’s looking.
The diaper pail gives an automated hiss as Yoongi fits a clean one around Nayeon’s bottom, the soft clicks in the wall as the machines begin their automatic sterilizing and washing process white noise over Nayeon’s soft sounds.
In the kitchen, the message light against the communications console is blinking, waiting to be answered as Yoongi carries his daughter to get some food. There’s a long day ahead and Yoongi, not for the first time, is thankful that he can stay with Nayeon through most of it.
They do the same thing almost every day. They wake up, get breakfast, play a bit and Yoongi introduces Nayeon to a few new things bit by bit, Nayeon naps, Yoongi tries to get work done while she sleeps before lunch. It’s a full time job, being a parent, and Yoongi hadn’t really understood how much of an undertaking it would be until it was in his arms.
All seven and a half pounds, soft delicate skin, and eyes too sensitive for light of an undertaking. While Yoongi fixes Nayeon her breakfast, he sings to her, just little songs, made up songs with words that don’t make sense but Nayeon loves them. Years ago, Yoongi wouldn’t be caught dead singing, actually singing, but now it’s just second nature to him to start singing when Nayeon turns to him expectantly.
Hoseok had been the one to make him realize it. It had been the first month that Nayeon was born, when Minjoo had begun to fray at the edges and Yoongi was grasping at straws to keep it together. Hoseok had shown up with Jimin, the two taking over as Hoseok tried to put together a decent meal from the groceries he’d brought over while Jimin walked a crying Nayeon. Yoongi was used to Jimin singing, the other man almost never quiet anyway, and so when he heart the soft sounds of his voice, he didn’t think anything of it.
He’d been too tired.
Then Hoseok had nudged him, hours later when Yoongi had been dozing, and pointed at Jimin. On the rocking chair, Jimin sat, gently rocking back and forth with Nayeon lying on his chest, fast asleep as he sang a soft melody to her.
“I think she likes music,” Hoseok said and smiled at him knowingly.
“Of course she does,” Yoongi had mumbled, though watching his daughter sleep so soundly had made him calmer, like he could finally rest. “She’s my daughter, after all.”
It turned out Nayeon did love music, so much that when Yoongi would play it on the system she’d bounce, trying to keep time. Hoseok had laughed on the comm when he’d seen it, telling Yoongi she was dancing.
He was right.
Nayeon loves music, and when one night after Minjoo was gone she wouldn’t settle down, worked up into a screaming frenzy, Yoongi had broken down and started singing. When people listen to him and know what they’re listening for, Yoongi’s throat closes, or he plays off, trying to fool himself into thinking he doesn’t really need to sing, that he never liked it. When Nayeon blinked up at him, big brown eyes wide and listening like his voice was all that mattered, Yoongi stopped caring what others thought, whether his voice was good or not.
Nayeon liked hearing him sing, and that’s all he needed.
“You look fabulous,” says Jimin over the comm when Yoongi finally answers the message light. It’s probably the middle of the night back in Sirius, and Jimin looks off duty, slightly buzzed. “How’s my favorite niece?”
“Still loves strawberries the most,” Yoongi says, stealing one of Nayeon’s berries from her tray and popping it into his mouth. Nayeon looks up at him as if offended. Yoongi smiles at her and she goes back to eating. “What’s up? Did the shipments change?”
“No, just the next schedule is up and I thought you’d be interested,” Jimin says, and a stream of ships, cargo, transfers, and requests suddenly flood onto Yoongi’s comm screen. “There’s a lot of people who are looking for a ride, you know.”
“I don’t really do well with guests,” Yoongi reminds as Nayeon shrieks shrilly. “Though Nayeon disagrees.”
“They’d give you the best price,” Jimin reminds. “At least check them out this time instead of just doing an immediate turn around. I get worried about you all alone out there all the time.”
“I’m not alone,” Yoongi reminds.
“Fine,” Jimin amends. “I worry about Nayeon all alone out there all the time with only her dad as company.”
“Are you trying to say something about me?”
“Yes, you’re boring,” Jimin says flatly, and laughs at Yoongi’s unamused expression. “There’s a really good ship deal going out soon. A few passengers and a few kids? Looks good and has a pretty good payoff.” The requests flicker across Yoongi’s screen as well. “And there’s a few new positions open in central that you could look into, and some off of the Crab Nebula that are promising.”
“I don’t need a station,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon throws a half a grape at Jimin’s holographic face.
“I think you do,” Jimin says. “Anyway, let me know what you settle on and I’ll set things up on this end for you so you don’t have to deal with transmission errors.”
“Daaaas!” Nayeon yells, hands outstretched for Jimin and bottom lip pouting out.
“I know,” Jimin coos at her, leaning into the screen and pouting just as childishly. “Uncle Minmin misses you too!”
“I hope she never actually calls you that,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon shrieks into laughter at the faces Jimin is making at her.
“Why not? It’s better than Hoseok’s name.”
“Don’t remind me,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon begins to throw her other uneaten fruit scraps at Jimin, watching them splatter against the wall. “Anyway, breakfast time is over.”
“Talk to you soon,” Jimin calls and Yoongi nods before disconnecting the transmission.
“You,” Yoongi says, turning to Nayeon with a pointed look. “Are a very messy little lady.” Nayeon coos at him, shoving her whole hand into her mouth, or at least trying to. And Yoongi can’t help but smile.
✮ Rewind ✯
Everyone made mistakes. It’s part of life, how it all works, and that’s just part of being human in Yoongi’s mind. Sometimes, life made mistakes, or at least that’s what humans said when they weren’t sure how to accept something and hid from the truth.
Yoongi had been a mistake, his parents said, when they’d found him as a young boy in the youth supervision centers playing with the figurines by himself. He’d created a family of two generations. Grandparents, a grandma and a grandpa, and their children, a girl who married a boy, and a boy holding another boy’s hand set up in careful detail in the house made out of blocks. They had a dog, and Yoongi told his mother they were very happy.
After that, Yoongi didn’t play with dolls anymore.
Everyone made mistakes, and Yoongi listened as Minjoo explained through her tears her mistake, how scared she was because some mistakes were worse than others. Her mistake was one she couldn’t change, didn’t want to change, was scared to change, but scared not to change.
“Do you want to keep it?” Yoongi asked her, never removing his hand from her shoulder as she explained the situation. Minjoo was a reckless girl, a lovely girl, but she liked to enjoy her freedom a little too much. ‘Star sickness’ they liked to call it, where young people believed that they were too free to have bad things happen to them, invincible to hardship and complications.
Minjoo had looked up at him, and nodded. “But I can’t,” she said, voice clogged. “I just- I don’t want to hurt it. I can’t do that. I know I could, but I don’t want to, not this one.”
Yoongi didn’t ask if there were others. He didn’t want to know, and didn’t press, just stayed there for Minjoo as she worked through her scattered thoughts. “Can you take care of it?” he asked
“Not without help,” she said. “I can’t do this alone, and I don’t know-“ She trailed off.
Who the father is.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi told her, and she scoffed, looking up at him. “It is,” he persists. “It’s okay, and it’s going to be okay.”
“What if it isn’t?”
Yoongi had smiled, mind already working through what he could do, what he was willing to do. “I’ll make sure it is.”
☆
Nayeon takes her first steps when she turns eleven months. She hadn’t bothered much with standing, with doing the tentative walking game, instead finally learning to stand properly and waiting, then walking. It had shocked Yoongi so much he’d barely been in time to catch her when she finally flopped back to the ground.
According to the child development statistics and reports, she was advanced for her age. She was ahead of most of the other children and developing at a much faster rate, excelling beyond normal and Yoongi was proud. He was so proud of her.
It’s a few days until Nayeon’s first birthday when Yoongi docks at one of the major trading ports in Vega. She’s got a cold and Yoongi for the life of him can’t figure out how she got it as he mops up snot from her nose while cueing in transfer information to the landing operations and check in officers. It’s been almost a year since he took this job, acting as the transport pilot for these huge cargo freights between solar systems and galaxies. It’s quiet, and helped him get away from the nagging persistence of his parents and people pressuring him for details.
Where is the mother? Where is your wife? Why aren’t you together anymore? What happened? Are you sure you can take care of a baby all on your own?
It all boils down to: “what’s wrong with you?” and “you can’t really do this.”
When Yoongi was a child, he knew he’d probably never do as his parents wanted and have a family, to grow up in one of the nuclear cell units of the stations, raising children to go and fulfill occupations on other sectors. It wasn’t who he was, it wasn’t what he was, and he knew ‘family’ to him meant something else.
Something different.
Vega has one of the largest assortment of stations and cargo trading ports this side of the galaxy, and Yoongi knows his transport cargo will be shipped all over the star system. It’s one of the few stars that has colonies on the planets surrounding it. New Earths, all given special names and identities, the hybrid descendants of Earth that was blossoming under the light of a new star, each one of them special, unique.
Something different.
“How long will you be staying with us?” asks the communications specialist over the speaker as Yoongi shuts down the navigational system now he’s docked the ship.
“Not too long,” Yoongi says, shrugging as he sits back in the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Nayeon play on the playpad on the floor, bouncing blocks and stuffed toys and picking things up to put them back down. There is a small assortment of toys she’s brought over to him lining the edge of the navigation board. “Just long enough to set up the next job and maybe grab a few supplies, then I’ll be heading off.”
“Back home?”
Yoongi scoffs as Nayeon yells in the background, standing up to go and grab for a blocks puzzle to upend all over the floor. “Yeah,” he says, watching her. “Home.”
Nayeon protests when Yoongi picks her up, but settles when he distracts her with chatter, walking back to her room to get her into some proper clothing. She hates wearing more than one layer, but they need to walk around the station to get a scope on it, and Yoongi isn’t about to let her out of his sight.
Nayeon shrieks when Yoongi puts a tiny hat on her, making sure to tie it under her chin. It had been a gift as well, made by Chanyeol before Yoongi had left for his last job. Chanyeol had made a number of hats, all little beanies in different sizes for when Nayeon grew. Chanyeol had smiled when he put the first one on her, cooing at how she’d be ‘daddy’s little girl’ with the hats right before Nayeon tore the first one off her head and hit Chanyeol in the nose with it.
Junmyeon had laughed for a good ten minutes about how just like her father Nayeon was.
“Come on, you need the hat to complete the outfit,” Yoongi wheedles as Nayeon blew raspberries at him in protest. She kept shrieking regardless as she was put into her backpack, and only finally stopped when Yoongi hoisted the carrier onto his shoulders.
At first, the idea had been stupid, and Yoongi had told his mother that he could just carry Nayeon. However, the backpack was perfect, seeing as he knew she was always there, and she was endlessly entertained watching the world from over his shoulders.
The world was an exciting place, full of sounds and smells and lights that kept getting Nayeon cooing and exclaiming in baby-language over his shoulder, her little hands tugging at Yoongi’s hair and poking his neck. The station for Vega Prime was huge, exotic and loud, people and creatures from all over brushing past Yoongi as they walked into the core of the transfer sector.
“What do you think?” Yoongi asks, looking up at the board of requests spanning feet above them and showing all the jobs Yoongi could take. “Should we do what Uncle Minmin wanted and make some friends?” Checking his accounts balances that morning, Yoongi knew he needed a good job to tide him over for the next few months of work.
One of the benefits of bring a transport pilot was that he made good money on it, even if the job wasn’t ideal. Most people wanted people with their jobs, or action, or activity, or couldn’t handle being out there in the black for too long without going mad. Yoongi never minded, but with Nayeon turning one, it might be time to start looking for other venues.
“This looks good,” Yoongi mentioned, tapping up a cargo job that looked pleasant. It went out towards the Pillars of Creation, which had a nice view and quiet stations. “What do you think?” Nayeon gargles at him, then makes a sort of frustrated squeak. “Okay, well-“
An image flashes on the screen, one of a passenger freight, where at least twenty people would be involved on a large transport vessel. Immigrants. Nayeon positively howls, bouncing in the backpack and Yoongi immediately knows why. One of the passengers on the request is a young man, holding what looks like a cat.
Yoongi found out when surfing through images on the datascreen a few months ago that Nayeon is fascinated with cats. Utterly fascinated with them.
“Alright,” Yoongi sighs, and taps through the control panel to fill in his claim on the request. All his credits and background check out clean, so it will only be a matter of time before he gets the job. It pays well, too. Nayeon is still bouncing when Yoongi finishes, babbling excitedly at him. “You win,” he says, reaching up to catch her happily waving hand. “You win, princess.”
✮ Rewind ✯
At first, Minjoo hadn’t believed him. At first, Yoongi hadn’t believed himself either, but that didn’t stop him. Mind made up, there wasn’t much that could stop him once he decided on it.
“You realize once we do this-“
“I know,” Yoongi had said. It was rash, irresponsible to some people, but Yoongi knew better. It didn’t matter what they said, because to him, it was the right thing to do.
If Minjoo had the child, if her parents found out she was pregnant, they’d either force her to make a decision she couldn’t live with or she’d be the shame of the family. It wasn’t as simple as single parenting with a family when the family didn’t support the mother. Yoongi knew that if Minjoo were left, if someone didn’t step in, she’d start stumbling backwards with no way out.
Minjoo wasn’t the type of girl who could take care of a baby on her own. Yoongi knew that, had known that for a long time, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who could make the harder decision to know she couldn’t bring the child into the world in her current state.
Then there was Yoongi, whose family still pressured him despite contrary evidence to find a girl, to find someone to make a family with, to be ‘happy’ the way they wanted him to be. They had a name, a status, one that Yoongi was living under in the transfer stations as he worked under the name and heritage his parents and grandparents had established. He wasn’t the end of the line, but there were expectations of him.
A duty, as his brother called it.
In truth, it was easier to do this, to marry a girl who was scared and needed someone to help, to have a child and live like he was supposed to, than to try to prove something else. It didn’t matter if Minjoo loved him or not, that wasn’t why Yoongi was doing this.
It was easy to explain to Minjoo anyway, how Yoongi wouldn’t love her, how he wouldn’t pressure her to ever feel the same way towards him. Minjoo knew, or at least understood, and it made it easy.
It hadn’t been easy, telling his parents of a marriage that was suddenly and less than favorable. Then the wedding while planning for a baby on the way, but it made it easier, where Yoongi was genuinely excited about the child and it made it convincing. Both of them were excited, Minjoo slowly glowing the safer she felt as the whole thing unfolded, and no one knew, even those who knew Yoongi before and wondered.
No one knew, and once married no one bothered to question. It was legal and it became almost a game of Minjoo calling Yoongi ‘dad’ and ‘daddy’ the greater her belly grew. She let Yoongi choose the name, let him choose the color of the cradle, and she signed all the documents making sure Yoongi’s name was listed first. She thanked Yoongi for all the time he was there, helping her through the pain of pregnancy and dropping everything to help, when called.
When he rushed into the technical bay to get her to the medical center, she thanked him as she held his hand tight.
Some people would argue that it was giving up his life, giving up his freedom and happiness to do someone elses job, to take on their burden. It wasn’t his responsibility to take care of the child of this girl who made a mistake, who wasn’t careful and almost lost everything. She should have learned from her mistake and it wasn’t his responsibility to take the child and give up what he’d been working for.
To Yoongi, they were wrong. Minjoo did learn from her mistake, but more importantly it never made sense to him why he would have let her suffer just to be comfortable. There was someone who needed him, who asked him for help, and Yoongi was no stranger to responsibility. To him, who had a family that didn’t understand and who Yoongi wished would, having a family was more important than anything.
To Yoongi, it was a big responsibility, but he wasn’t afraid of it. The more real it became, the more he realized he’d made the right decision, that this, becoming a father to a child who so badly needed one, was what he wanted.
The first time he held Nayeon in his arms, heard her voice and saw her open her eyes, Yoongi knew that it didn’t matter if people knew the truth, because it wasn’t real. What was real was Minjoo smiling at him through her tears, face streaked in relief, warmth and happiness as she watched him hold his daughter. What mattered was Minjoo holding his hand as she looked at her daughter and said, “your daddy loves you so much.”
What mattered was looking down at the small life in his arms and knowing this was right, that this was where he was supposed to be, this was who he was supposed to be, that he would protect and care and love this little girl who had become his world.
That was the only truth that mattered.
☆
It takes a good few days for the transport ship to get set up. Moving Yoongi’s stuff alone is a task, making sure all his materials and possessions are transferred along with Nayeon’s. Nayeon is in constant distrust, looking around the new considerably larger ship warily as Yoongi walks her around again and again, trying to get her comfortable.
“I know it’s not the old rig,” he says, bouncing her in his arms. “But the bathroom is a lot bigger, and you can actually take baths now. Which will probably be an adventure.”
The station itself is friendly, and Yoongi smiles as he introduces Nayeon to all sorts of new foods and smells and sounds. It helps to tire her out, though it’s a gamble because she never seems to want the fun to end. Jimin is incredibly smug when Yoongi tells him of his plans, and spends most of the conversation talking smugly with Nayeon in baby-talk while Yoongi makes dinner. It makes him smile though, listening to Nayeon try to talk back with Jimin in her own language that Yoongi is slowly beginning to understand.
“She says you’re being silly,” Yoongi tells Jimin as Nayeon finishes a loud barrage of noise at Jimin.
“No, she said I’m smart!” Jimin says and Nayeon screams into laughter, slapping her food tray delightedly.
Yoongi just looks down at her, sharing a look with his daughter as Nayeon blows raspberries at him. “I know, I don’t get him either,” Yoongi says and Nayeon giggles loudly. She’s got almost five teeth now. “He’s very silly though. Maybe we can visit him when we get back and you can tell him how silly is he.”
“I’ll be she can’t wait to see me again,” Jimin says, smiling through the screen. “She adores me.”
“She does,” Yoongi agrees, watching as Nayeon proceeds to babble at Jimin about something or other excitedly. “Be careful though, she might meet one of the new passengers and like them more than you.”
“Promise me you’ll always keep me at number one,” Jimin tells Nayeon sternly. Nayeon slaps her hands on the tray and bounces excitedly with a shriek. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Turning to Yoongi, hedrops the childish edge. “Did you tell your parents yet?”
“No,” Yoongi shrugs. “Why would I?”
“I just thought, in case you might be staying after-“
“I never said I was coming back for good,” Yoongi corrects, and Jimin sighs. “Sorry.”
“Hoseok is going to be so sad,” Jimin tells him. “And Chanyeol. He misses Nayeon, by the way. And you.”
“I miss them,” Yoongi admits quietly as Jimin watches. Nayeon goes a little quietly, staring at him before he catches her look, and offers a small smile back. “But we’ll see them again soon!” he adds, with wide eyes and a wide smile, making faces that get Nayeon to light up.
“You know,” Jimin tells him as Yoongi plays with his giggling daughter. “When you first told us you were going to be a dad, I wasn’t sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin says, smiling warmly. “You proved me wrong. You’re an amazing dad.”
“Darn straight,” Yoongi says, ruffling Nayeon’s hair and getting a happy squawk before she sneezes snot all over herself.
The problem with the new transition to the transport ship is that it ends up exhausting and stressing out Nayeon. She’s usually more laid back, but suddenly sleeping in a new place has her freaked a little, waking up often and not sleeping well, making her fussy and crabby during the day. The lack of sleep weighs on Yoongi as well, making him tired, slightly more irritable, and less of a welcoming host when boarding finally arrives.
With Nayeon strapped into the backpack and clearly unhappy about it, Yoongi stands at the boarding area and looks at the group of at least fifteen people and their gear waiting to get on a ship with him. As Nayeon fusses into his ear, Yoongi almost wants to drop the job, take another cargo shipment out to Cerberus and forget the whole thing.
Then Nayeon exclaims from by his ear, “dat!” and points to one of the people waiting, bouncing in her backpack. There stands the young man who had the cat, this time holding the cat in his arms like a giant fluffy mess and watching Nayeon curiously, almost excitedly.
“Dat! Dat! Dat, dat, dat!” Nayeon keeps saying excitedly, and Yoongi knows exactly what she’s babbling about.
“Alright,” he calls out to the upturned faces all watching him. “Get on. Ship leaves in an hour and if you’re not boarded and stowed by then, we leave without you. I keep a tight schedule.”
No one complains, just gives him a few looks as they walk aboard and past him up the loading ramp into the ship. After the third person, Yoongi follows, leading and directing them to the personal quarters and pointing out the rooms for them. The next is the galley, the main area, and some of the other areas on the ship.
“And don’t worry, the rooms are soundproof so you won’t hear Nayeon in the middle of the night,” Yoongi reassures.
“Is that her name?” one of the passengers asks, lingering as the others had begun to explore.
“I figured calling her ‘baby’ sounded too impersonal,” Yoongi says as Nayeon coos over his shoulder. “She stays with me in the forward bunks, though she gets her own small room because she’s the princess.”
The passenger, a tall man wearing one of the long coats Yoongi remembers seeing common in Virgo, smiles at him. “I’m honored to make her acquaintance.”
Nayeon keeps craning over his shoulder as Yoongi walks through, checking on the passengers, making sure they settle in, tiring himself out. Finally, Nayeon lets out a shriek of joy when she catches sight of what she was looking for, losing interest in the girl who had been trying to play with her. In the main room is the young man with the cat, playing with a string and watching as the cat jumps after it.
“Dat!”
“Cat!” the young man says, looking up with a smile. “She knows what is it.”
“She likes cats,” Yoongi says, and watches as the young man bundles the cat into his arms before standing. “But not all the passengers might.”
“I’ll make sure Kkanji doesn’t get in the way,” he says, and the cat lets out a slow meow as Nayeon gasps in excitement. “And I promise he’s very gentle, so your daughter can play with him if you’re okay with it.”
“Maybe,” Yoongi says, and lets himself smile a little. “We’re leaving soon.”
“All packed,” the young man says, smiling brightly. “Ready to go, captain.”
Captain.
“Just call me Yoongi.”
“Alright, captain Yoongi.” The young man grins. “I’m Taehyung.”
“This is Nayeon,” Yoongi introduces and Nayeon gasps a little “dat” over his shoulder as the cat in Taehhyung’s arms wiggles. “I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other over the next few weeks.”
There are sixteen new people in Yoongi’s life, their faces and names slipping in and out of his head as Nayeon breaks down an hour later into a full out tantrum, overtired and exhausted. It’s right after the ship leaves though, and Yoongi slips out of the navigation center after locking in the course and coordinates to put her down for sleep. Nayeon cries and cries, frustrated with herself and how tired she is as Yoongi walks around the lower deck near his room, singing softly to her to calm her down and finally getting her to sleep just as he gets back to his room. She fusses when he tries to leave, and so carefully he lies them both down in his bed, Nayeon snuggled to his chest and breathing softly.
Yoongi doesn’t remember when he stopped humming, but neither does he remember when he fell asleep either as the stars drift past them outside a new port window in gentle stillness.
☆
a/n – so this was a good beginning I think? I’m still not sure exactly where I’ll go with this but probably somewhere interesting…
For reeza
Starting word from here
Next to at gunpoint and being dumped cold water on, being woken up to screaming is one of the last things Yoongi wishes for himself.
Yet that’s somehow what he ends up getting, at least for the last year or so. First it had been his parents, then Minjoo, and then just one person, the only person who mattered.
Yoongi wakes up to the sound of crying, soft yelping wails punctuated by whimpers. It takes him barely a moment before he’s rolling out of his bed, feet hitting the padded floor, eyes barely open in the dark as he shuffles from his room and into the hall.
It’s louder out here, getting more and more frantic as Yoongi walks towards the only other door in the hallway aside from the bathroom. Inside is a single small sleeping unit, slatted bars rising up from the base to create a protective barrier. Holding onto these bars, little hands gripping tightly and her face streaked with tears, is a very little girl.
Actually, she’s ten months old, and Yoongi sighs as he reaches down into the crib, hoisting her into his arms as she cries with a sigh. “It’s okay,” he tells her, lips pressing to the side of her head as she whimpers and cries against his shoulder. “I’m here, I’m here now.”
She lets out a few more whimpers, arms trying to loop around his neck as she snuggles closer. There is a chair in the room, similar to the old wicker rockers Yoongi used to see from photographs of Earth that was. Hoseok had gotten him this one, as a wedding gift. He’d delivered it with a huge smile and an even bigger bow on the chair. It’s comfortable, rocking easily as Yoongi sits in it, gently patting his daughter’s back as she whimpers against his chest.
“The nightmare is over,” he tells her, his own eyes closing. “I’m here. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here.”
It’s the promise every parent makes and hopes they can keep. The one thing Yoongi prays for when he thought he’d never pray again after too maybe prayers never went unanswered.
They say being a parent changes you, and Yoongi couldn’t agree with them more.
Looking out of the window of the room, Yoongi can see the stars passing them in the vast expanse of black beyond. It’s soothing, in a sort of humbling way, and it’s not until he’s already humming softly he realizes he’s begun. It’s just a simple tune, but one that he’s sung over and over, just a little different every time.
Outside the window is calm silence, the airless space of the universe stretching on and on as Yoongi rocks his daughter gently back to sleep, humming to her songs from a world she’ll never know. Before long, he’s rocked both of them back to sleep.
Minjoo was crying, her hands around her stomach as she looked at him. Her hair was wet, as if she’d just come from the showers or had been washing her face, her skin slightly blotchy. Though that might have been from the crying.
“Help me,” Minjoo said, and looked at him with eyes filled with desperation and fear. “Please, please, Yoongi, I don’t know what to do.”
There wasn’t a lot of space in the transport quarters, at least not for more than two people and even that was a squeeze. For Yoongi, who spent most of his time at work in the cargo bays and working with Hyunsong up in the trading rooms, it as fine. He didn’t have a lot of things, and therefore didn’t need a lot of space. It was subject to scrutiny from his parents, his brother, and his friends, saying with a good job like he had, he could afford something better.
Yoongi didn’t mind though, and while it was cramped, he welcomed a frightening looking Minjoon in anyway.
“What happened?” he asked, hand on her shoulder comfortingly as he helped her to sit on one of the only chairs. There wasn’t room for more than one and Yoongi sat on the bed, trying to keep close. Just in case.
“I don’t know what to do,” Minjoo repeated in a hiccupped sob before dropping her face into her hands. “I don’t know what to do and I don’t know where to go, because if I go home like this and they- if my family finds out then-“
“Start at the beginning,” Yoongi suggested, carefully rubbing his hand along her shoulder, trying to comfort. He’d known Minjoo for years, one of the few people that had stuck in the bustle of the transport docks and trading ports. She worked in the mechanic bays, a few sectors down from him, but they got along well. She worked on most of the rigs Yoongi sent out and they’d become friends. She was fun, loud and vibrant and somewhat reckless, but a good woman. She had a good heart and a kind soul, and Yoongi liked her.
That’s probably why it hurt to look at her so upset, so out of her usual bright and happy element, her fragile open heart so clearly broken.
“Take your time.”
At that, she let out a harsh laugh, looking up at him with a bitter smile. “I don’t have time,” she said, her voice raw and cracking even as her lips trembled in a smile that shone in her eyes. It took another deep breath, her fingers twisting in her lap, over her stomach, before she finally cleared her throat and said in a soft murmur, “I’m pregnant.”
It’s not the first time Yoongi wakes up in the rocking chair to the excited and very awake babbling of a little girl in his arms. It won’t be the last either. There are hands in his hair, on his face, poking at his cheeks and a stream of babbling from an excited mouth, demanding he wake up and play.
“Is it breakfast time already?” Yoongi asks, rousing enough to slip Nayeon into his lap to bounce her on his knees. She giggles mouth wide in a smile as a few teeth wink at him in her mouth. With a sigh, he scoops her up again, easily balancing her in his arms. “Or is it time to see if you have a poopy diaper?”
Nayeon gurgles at him. Yoongi smiles. It’s been a year of smiles. Smiles and late nights and less sleep than he’s had in his entire life fill up all the space in the last year, and Yoongi smiles now without wondering who’s looking.
The diaper pail gives an automated hiss as Yoongi fits a clean one around Nayeon’s bottom, the soft clicks in the wall as the machines begin their automatic sterilizing and washing process white noise over Nayeon’s soft sounds.
In the kitchen, the message light against the communications console is blinking, waiting to be answered as Yoongi carries his daughter to get some food. There’s a long day ahead and Yoongi, not for the first time, is thankful that he can stay with Nayeon through most of it.
They do the same thing almost every day. They wake up, get breakfast, play a bit and Yoongi introduces Nayeon to a few new things bit by bit, Nayeon naps, Yoongi tries to get work done while she sleeps before lunch. It’s a full time job, being a parent, and Yoongi hadn’t really understood how much of an undertaking it would be until it was in his arms.
All seven and a half pounds, soft delicate skin, and eyes too sensitive for light of an undertaking. While Yoongi fixes Nayeon her breakfast, he sings to her, just little songs, made up songs with words that don’t make sense but Nayeon loves them. Years ago, Yoongi wouldn’t be caught dead singing, actually singing, but now it’s just second nature to him to start singing when Nayeon turns to him expectantly.
Hoseok had been the one to make him realize it. It had been the first month that Nayeon was born, when Minjoo had begun to fray at the edges and Yoongi was grasping at straws to keep it together. Hoseok had shown up with Jimin, the two taking over as Hoseok tried to put together a decent meal from the groceries he’d brought over while Jimin walked a crying Nayeon. Yoongi was used to Jimin singing, the other man almost never quiet anyway, and so when he heart the soft sounds of his voice, he didn’t think anything of it.
He’d been too tired.
Then Hoseok had nudged him, hours later when Yoongi had been dozing, and pointed at Jimin. On the rocking chair, Jimin sat, gently rocking back and forth with Nayeon lying on his chest, fast asleep as he sang a soft melody to her.
“I think she likes music,” Hoseok said and smiled at him knowingly.
“Of course she does,” Yoongi had mumbled, though watching his daughter sleep so soundly had made him calmer, like he could finally rest. “She’s my daughter, after all.”
It turned out Nayeon did love music, so much that when Yoongi would play it on the system she’d bounce, trying to keep time. Hoseok had laughed on the comm when he’d seen it, telling Yoongi she was dancing.
He was right.
Nayeon loves music, and when one night after Minjoo was gone she wouldn’t settle down, worked up into a screaming frenzy, Yoongi had broken down and started singing. When people listen to him and know what they’re listening for, Yoongi’s throat closes, or he plays off, trying to fool himself into thinking he doesn’t really need to sing, that he never liked it. When Nayeon blinked up at him, big brown eyes wide and listening like his voice was all that mattered, Yoongi stopped caring what others thought, whether his voice was good or not.
Nayeon liked hearing him sing, and that’s all he needed.
“You look fabulous,” says Jimin over the comm when Yoongi finally answers the message light. It’s probably the middle of the night back in Sirius, and Jimin looks off duty, slightly buzzed. “How’s my favorite niece?”
“Still loves strawberries the most,” Yoongi says, stealing one of Nayeon’s berries from her tray and popping it into his mouth. Nayeon looks up at him as if offended. Yoongi smiles at her and she goes back to eating. “What’s up? Did the shipments change?”
“No, just the next schedule is up and I thought you’d be interested,” Jimin says, and a stream of ships, cargo, transfers, and requests suddenly flood onto Yoongi’s comm screen. “There’s a lot of people who are looking for a ride, you know.”
“I don’t really do well with guests,” Yoongi reminds as Nayeon shrieks shrilly. “Though Nayeon disagrees.”
“They’d give you the best price,” Jimin reminds. “At least check them out this time instead of just doing an immediate turn around. I get worried about you all alone out there all the time.”
“I’m not alone,” Yoongi reminds.
“Fine,” Jimin amends. “I worry about Nayeon all alone out there all the time with only her dad as company.”
“Are you trying to say something about me?”
“Yes, you’re boring,” Jimin says flatly, and laughs at Yoongi’s unamused expression. “There’s a really good ship deal going out soon. A few passengers and a few kids? Looks good and has a pretty good payoff.” The requests flicker across Yoongi’s screen as well. “And there’s a few new positions open in central that you could look into, and some off of the Crab Nebula that are promising.”
“I don’t need a station,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon throws a half a grape at Jimin’s holographic face.
“I think you do,” Jimin says. “Anyway, let me know what you settle on and I’ll set things up on this end for you so you don’t have to deal with transmission errors.”
“Daaaas!” Nayeon yells, hands outstretched for Jimin and bottom lip pouting out.
“I know,” Jimin coos at her, leaning into the screen and pouting just as childishly. “Uncle Minmin misses you too!”
“I hope she never actually calls you that,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon shrieks into laughter at the faces Jimin is making at her.
“Why not? It’s better than Hoseok’s name.”
“Don’t remind me,” Yoongi sighs as Nayeon begins to throw her other uneaten fruit scraps at Jimin, watching them splatter against the wall. “Anyway, breakfast time is over.”
“Talk to you soon,” Jimin calls and Yoongi nods before disconnecting the transmission.
“You,” Yoongi says, turning to Nayeon with a pointed look. “Are a very messy little lady.” Nayeon coos at him, shoving her whole hand into her mouth, or at least trying to. And Yoongi can’t help but smile.
Everyone made mistakes. It’s part of life, how it all works, and that’s just part of being human in Yoongi’s mind. Sometimes, life made mistakes, or at least that’s what humans said when they weren’t sure how to accept something and hid from the truth.
Yoongi had been a mistake, his parents said, when they’d found him as a young boy in the youth supervision centers playing with the figurines by himself. He’d created a family of two generations. Grandparents, a grandma and a grandpa, and their children, a girl who married a boy, and a boy holding another boy’s hand set up in careful detail in the house made out of blocks. They had a dog, and Yoongi told his mother they were very happy.
After that, Yoongi didn’t play with dolls anymore.
Everyone made mistakes, and Yoongi listened as Minjoo explained through her tears her mistake, how scared she was because some mistakes were worse than others. Her mistake was one she couldn’t change, didn’t want to change, was scared to change, but scared not to change.
“Do you want to keep it?” Yoongi asked her, never removing his hand from her shoulder as she explained the situation. Minjoo was a reckless girl, a lovely girl, but she liked to enjoy her freedom a little too much. ‘Star sickness’ they liked to call it, where young people believed that they were too free to have bad things happen to them, invincible to hardship and complications.
Minjoo had looked up at him, and nodded. “But I can’t,” she said, voice clogged. “I just- I don’t want to hurt it. I can’t do that. I know I could, but I don’t want to, not this one.”
Yoongi didn’t ask if there were others. He didn’t want to know, and didn’t press, just stayed there for Minjoo as she worked through her scattered thoughts. “Can you take care of it?” he asked
“Not without help,” she said. “I can’t do this alone, and I don’t know-“ She trailed off.
Who the father is.
“It’s okay,” Yoongi told her, and she scoffed, looking up at him. “It is,” he persists. “It’s okay, and it’s going to be okay.”
“What if it isn’t?”
Yoongi had smiled, mind already working through what he could do, what he was willing to do. “I’ll make sure it is.”
Nayeon takes her first steps when she turns eleven months. She hadn’t bothered much with standing, with doing the tentative walking game, instead finally learning to stand properly and waiting, then walking. It had shocked Yoongi so much he’d barely been in time to catch her when she finally flopped back to the ground.
According to the child development statistics and reports, she was advanced for her age. She was ahead of most of the other children and developing at a much faster rate, excelling beyond normal and Yoongi was proud. He was so proud of her.
It’s a few days until Nayeon’s first birthday when Yoongi docks at one of the major trading ports in Vega. She’s got a cold and Yoongi for the life of him can’t figure out how she got it as he mops up snot from her nose while cueing in transfer information to the landing operations and check in officers. It’s been almost a year since he took this job, acting as the transport pilot for these huge cargo freights between solar systems and galaxies. It’s quiet, and helped him get away from the nagging persistence of his parents and people pressuring him for details.
Where is the mother? Where is your wife? Why aren’t you together anymore? What happened? Are you sure you can take care of a baby all on your own?
It all boils down to: “what’s wrong with you?” and “you can’t really do this.”
When Yoongi was a child, he knew he’d probably never do as his parents wanted and have a family, to grow up in one of the nuclear cell units of the stations, raising children to go and fulfill occupations on other sectors. It wasn’t who he was, it wasn’t what he was, and he knew ‘family’ to him meant something else.
Something different.
Vega has one of the largest assortment of stations and cargo trading ports this side of the galaxy, and Yoongi knows his transport cargo will be shipped all over the star system. It’s one of the few stars that has colonies on the planets surrounding it. New Earths, all given special names and identities, the hybrid descendants of Earth that was blossoming under the light of a new star, each one of them special, unique.
Something different.
“How long will you be staying with us?” asks the communications specialist over the speaker as Yoongi shuts down the navigational system now he’s docked the ship.
“Not too long,” Yoongi says, shrugging as he sits back in the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Nayeon play on the playpad on the floor, bouncing blocks and stuffed toys and picking things up to put them back down. There is a small assortment of toys she’s brought over to him lining the edge of the navigation board. “Just long enough to set up the next job and maybe grab a few supplies, then I’ll be heading off.”
“Back home?”
Yoongi scoffs as Nayeon yells in the background, standing up to go and grab for a blocks puzzle to upend all over the floor. “Yeah,” he says, watching her. “Home.”
Nayeon protests when Yoongi picks her up, but settles when he distracts her with chatter, walking back to her room to get her into some proper clothing. She hates wearing more than one layer, but they need to walk around the station to get a scope on it, and Yoongi isn’t about to let her out of his sight.
Nayeon shrieks when Yoongi puts a tiny hat on her, making sure to tie it under her chin. It had been a gift as well, made by Chanyeol before Yoongi had left for his last job. Chanyeol had made a number of hats, all little beanies in different sizes for when Nayeon grew. Chanyeol had smiled when he put the first one on her, cooing at how she’d be ‘daddy’s little girl’ with the hats right before Nayeon tore the first one off her head and hit Chanyeol in the nose with it.
Junmyeon had laughed for a good ten minutes about how just like her father Nayeon was.
“Come on, you need the hat to complete the outfit,” Yoongi wheedles as Nayeon blew raspberries at him in protest. She kept shrieking regardless as she was put into her backpack, and only finally stopped when Yoongi hoisted the carrier onto his shoulders.
At first, the idea had been stupid, and Yoongi had told his mother that he could just carry Nayeon. However, the backpack was perfect, seeing as he knew she was always there, and she was endlessly entertained watching the world from over his shoulders.
The world was an exciting place, full of sounds and smells and lights that kept getting Nayeon cooing and exclaiming in baby-language over his shoulder, her little hands tugging at Yoongi’s hair and poking his neck. The station for Vega Prime was huge, exotic and loud, people and creatures from all over brushing past Yoongi as they walked into the core of the transfer sector.
“What do you think?” Yoongi asks, looking up at the board of requests spanning feet above them and showing all the jobs Yoongi could take. “Should we do what Uncle Minmin wanted and make some friends?” Checking his accounts balances that morning, Yoongi knew he needed a good job to tide him over for the next few months of work.
One of the benefits of bring a transport pilot was that he made good money on it, even if the job wasn’t ideal. Most people wanted people with their jobs, or action, or activity, or couldn’t handle being out there in the black for too long without going mad. Yoongi never minded, but with Nayeon turning one, it might be time to start looking for other venues.
“This looks good,” Yoongi mentioned, tapping up a cargo job that looked pleasant. It went out towards the Pillars of Creation, which had a nice view and quiet stations. “What do you think?” Nayeon gargles at him, then makes a sort of frustrated squeak. “Okay, well-“
An image flashes on the screen, one of a passenger freight, where at least twenty people would be involved on a large transport vessel. Immigrants. Nayeon positively howls, bouncing in the backpack and Yoongi immediately knows why. One of the passengers on the request is a young man, holding what looks like a cat.
Yoongi found out when surfing through images on the datascreen a few months ago that Nayeon is fascinated with cats. Utterly fascinated with them.
“Alright,” Yoongi sighs, and taps through the control panel to fill in his claim on the request. All his credits and background check out clean, so it will only be a matter of time before he gets the job. It pays well, too. Nayeon is still bouncing when Yoongi finishes, babbling excitedly at him. “You win,” he says, reaching up to catch her happily waving hand. “You win, princess.”
At first, Minjoo hadn’t believed him. At first, Yoongi hadn’t believed himself either, but that didn’t stop him. Mind made up, there wasn’t much that could stop him once he decided on it.
“You realize once we do this-“
“I know,” Yoongi had said. It was rash, irresponsible to some people, but Yoongi knew better. It didn’t matter what they said, because to him, it was the right thing to do.
If Minjoo had the child, if her parents found out she was pregnant, they’d either force her to make a decision she couldn’t live with or she’d be the shame of the family. It wasn’t as simple as single parenting with a family when the family didn’t support the mother. Yoongi knew that if Minjoo were left, if someone didn’t step in, she’d start stumbling backwards with no way out.
Minjoo wasn’t the type of girl who could take care of a baby on her own. Yoongi knew that, had known that for a long time, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who could make the harder decision to know she couldn’t bring the child into the world in her current state.
Then there was Yoongi, whose family still pressured him despite contrary evidence to find a girl, to find someone to make a family with, to be ‘happy’ the way they wanted him to be. They had a name, a status, one that Yoongi was living under in the transfer stations as he worked under the name and heritage his parents and grandparents had established. He wasn’t the end of the line, but there were expectations of him.
A duty, as his brother called it.
In truth, it was easier to do this, to marry a girl who was scared and needed someone to help, to have a child and live like he was supposed to, than to try to prove something else. It didn’t matter if Minjoo loved him or not, that wasn’t why Yoongi was doing this.
It was easy to explain to Minjoo anyway, how Yoongi wouldn’t love her, how he wouldn’t pressure her to ever feel the same way towards him. Minjoo knew, or at least understood, and it made it easy.
It hadn’t been easy, telling his parents of a marriage that was suddenly and less than favorable. Then the wedding while planning for a baby on the way, but it made it easier, where Yoongi was genuinely excited about the child and it made it convincing. Both of them were excited, Minjoo slowly glowing the safer she felt as the whole thing unfolded, and no one knew, even those who knew Yoongi before and wondered.
No one knew, and once married no one bothered to question. It was legal and it became almost a game of Minjoo calling Yoongi ‘dad’ and ‘daddy’ the greater her belly grew. She let Yoongi choose the name, let him choose the color of the cradle, and she signed all the documents making sure Yoongi’s name was listed first. She thanked Yoongi for all the time he was there, helping her through the pain of pregnancy and dropping everything to help, when called.
When he rushed into the technical bay to get her to the medical center, she thanked him as she held his hand tight.
Some people would argue that it was giving up his life, giving up his freedom and happiness to do someone elses job, to take on their burden. It wasn’t his responsibility to take care of the child of this girl who made a mistake, who wasn’t careful and almost lost everything. She should have learned from her mistake and it wasn’t his responsibility to take the child and give up what he’d been working for.
To Yoongi, they were wrong. Minjoo did learn from her mistake, but more importantly it never made sense to him why he would have let her suffer just to be comfortable. There was someone who needed him, who asked him for help, and Yoongi was no stranger to responsibility. To him, who had a family that didn’t understand and who Yoongi wished would, having a family was more important than anything.
To Yoongi, it was a big responsibility, but he wasn’t afraid of it. The more real it became, the more he realized he’d made the right decision, that this, becoming a father to a child who so badly needed one, was what he wanted.
The first time he held Nayeon in his arms, heard her voice and saw her open her eyes, Yoongi knew that it didn’t matter if people knew the truth, because it wasn’t real. What was real was Minjoo smiling at him through her tears, face streaked in relief, warmth and happiness as she watched him hold his daughter. What mattered was Minjoo holding his hand as she looked at her daughter and said, “your daddy loves you so much.”
What mattered was looking down at the small life in his arms and knowing this was right, that this was where he was supposed to be, this was who he was supposed to be, that he would protect and care and love this little girl who had become his world.
That was the only truth that mattered.
It takes a good few days for the transport ship to get set up. Moving Yoongi’s stuff alone is a task, making sure all his materials and possessions are transferred along with Nayeon’s. Nayeon is in constant distrust, looking around the new considerably larger ship warily as Yoongi walks her around again and again, trying to get her comfortable.
“I know it’s not the old rig,” he says, bouncing her in his arms. “But the bathroom is a lot bigger, and you can actually take baths now. Which will probably be an adventure.”
The station itself is friendly, and Yoongi smiles as he introduces Nayeon to all sorts of new foods and smells and sounds. It helps to tire her out, though it’s a gamble because she never seems to want the fun to end. Jimin is incredibly smug when Yoongi tells him of his plans, and spends most of the conversation talking smugly with Nayeon in baby-talk while Yoongi makes dinner. It makes him smile though, listening to Nayeon try to talk back with Jimin in her own language that Yoongi is slowly beginning to understand.
“She says you’re being silly,” Yoongi tells Jimin as Nayeon finishes a loud barrage of noise at Jimin.
“No, she said I’m smart!” Jimin says and Nayeon screams into laughter, slapping her food tray delightedly.
Yoongi just looks down at her, sharing a look with his daughter as Nayeon blows raspberries at him. “I know, I don’t get him either,” Yoongi says and Nayeon giggles loudly. She’s got almost five teeth now. “He’s very silly though. Maybe we can visit him when we get back and you can tell him how silly is he.”
“I’ll be she can’t wait to see me again,” Jimin says, smiling through the screen. “She adores me.”
“She does,” Yoongi agrees, watching as Nayeon proceeds to babble at Jimin about something or other excitedly. “Be careful though, she might meet one of the new passengers and like them more than you.”
“Promise me you’ll always keep me at number one,” Jimin tells Nayeon sternly. Nayeon slaps her hands on the tray and bounces excitedly with a shriek. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Turning to Yoongi, hedrops the childish edge. “Did you tell your parents yet?”
“No,” Yoongi shrugs. “Why would I?”
“I just thought, in case you might be staying after-“
“I never said I was coming back for good,” Yoongi corrects, and Jimin sighs. “Sorry.”
“Hoseok is going to be so sad,” Jimin tells him. “And Chanyeol. He misses Nayeon, by the way. And you.”
“I miss them,” Yoongi admits quietly as Jimin watches. Nayeon goes a little quietly, staring at him before he catches her look, and offers a small smile back. “But we’ll see them again soon!” he adds, with wide eyes and a wide smile, making faces that get Nayeon to light up.
“You know,” Jimin tells him as Yoongi plays with his giggling daughter. “When you first told us you were going to be a dad, I wasn’t sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin says, smiling warmly. “You proved me wrong. You’re an amazing dad.”
“Darn straight,” Yoongi says, ruffling Nayeon’s hair and getting a happy squawk before she sneezes snot all over herself.
The problem with the new transition to the transport ship is that it ends up exhausting and stressing out Nayeon. She’s usually more laid back, but suddenly sleeping in a new place has her freaked a little, waking up often and not sleeping well, making her fussy and crabby during the day. The lack of sleep weighs on Yoongi as well, making him tired, slightly more irritable, and less of a welcoming host when boarding finally arrives.
With Nayeon strapped into the backpack and clearly unhappy about it, Yoongi stands at the boarding area and looks at the group of at least fifteen people and their gear waiting to get on a ship with him. As Nayeon fusses into his ear, Yoongi almost wants to drop the job, take another cargo shipment out to Cerberus and forget the whole thing.
Then Nayeon exclaims from by his ear, “dat!” and points to one of the people waiting, bouncing in her backpack. There stands the young man who had the cat, this time holding the cat in his arms like a giant fluffy mess and watching Nayeon curiously, almost excitedly.
“Dat! Dat! Dat, dat, dat!” Nayeon keeps saying excitedly, and Yoongi knows exactly what she’s babbling about.
“Alright,” he calls out to the upturned faces all watching him. “Get on. Ship leaves in an hour and if you’re not boarded and stowed by then, we leave without you. I keep a tight schedule.”
No one complains, just gives him a few looks as they walk aboard and past him up the loading ramp into the ship. After the third person, Yoongi follows, leading and directing them to the personal quarters and pointing out the rooms for them. The next is the galley, the main area, and some of the other areas on the ship.
“And don’t worry, the rooms are soundproof so you won’t hear Nayeon in the middle of the night,” Yoongi reassures.
“Is that her name?” one of the passengers asks, lingering as the others had begun to explore.
“I figured calling her ‘baby’ sounded too impersonal,” Yoongi says as Nayeon coos over his shoulder. “She stays with me in the forward bunks, though she gets her own small room because she’s the princess.”
The passenger, a tall man wearing one of the long coats Yoongi remembers seeing common in Virgo, smiles at him. “I’m honored to make her acquaintance.”
Nayeon keeps craning over his shoulder as Yoongi walks through, checking on the passengers, making sure they settle in, tiring himself out. Finally, Nayeon lets out a shriek of joy when she catches sight of what she was looking for, losing interest in the girl who had been trying to play with her. In the main room is the young man with the cat, playing with a string and watching as the cat jumps after it.
“Dat!”
“Cat!” the young man says, looking up with a smile. “She knows what is it.”
“She likes cats,” Yoongi says, and watches as the young man bundles the cat into his arms before standing. “But not all the passengers might.”
“I’ll make sure Kkanji doesn’t get in the way,” he says, and the cat lets out a slow meow as Nayeon gasps in excitement. “And I promise he’s very gentle, so your daughter can play with him if you’re okay with it.”
“Maybe,” Yoongi says, and lets himself smile a little. “We’re leaving soon.”
“All packed,” the young man says, smiling brightly. “Ready to go, captain.”
Captain.
“Just call me Yoongi.”
“Alright, captain Yoongi.” The young man grins. “I’m Taehyung.”
“This is Nayeon,” Yoongi introduces and Nayeon gasps a little “dat” over his shoulder as the cat in Taehhyung’s arms wiggles. “I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other over the next few weeks.”
There are sixteen new people in Yoongi’s life, their faces and names slipping in and out of his head as Nayeon breaks down an hour later into a full out tantrum, overtired and exhausted. It’s right after the ship leaves though, and Yoongi slips out of the navigation center after locking in the course and coordinates to put her down for sleep. Nayeon cries and cries, frustrated with herself and how tired she is as Yoongi walks around the lower deck near his room, singing softly to her to calm her down and finally getting her to sleep just as he gets back to his room. She fusses when he tries to leave, and so carefully he lies them both down in his bed, Nayeon snuggled to his chest and breathing softly.
Yoongi doesn’t remember when he stopped humming, but neither does he remember when he fell asleep either as the stars drift past them outside a new port window in gentle stillness.
a/n – so this was a good beginning I think? I’m still not sure exactly where I’ll go with this but probably somewhere interesting…