Advice

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Title: "Advice"
Authors: Brenda and Jo
Featuring: Karl Urban, Harry Sinclair, Lawrence Makoare & Viggo Mortensen
Rating: G
Summary: Everyone has advice for the new father. Gen-fic.
Disclaimer: Um...no. And, um...no. Never happened.
Notes: Written for Mcee's gen fic challenge.


Ringring. C'mon, Lawrence, pick up the phone.

Ringring. Karl paced the length of the living room, wincing when Hunter's cries reach ear-splitting decibels. Who knew anything with lungs that tiny could be so loud?

Ringring. C'mon, come on. Karl juggled the phone with one hand and rocked Hunter's day crib with the other, wincing when Hunter turned purple. Natalie was going to kill him.

"'Lo?"

Karl almost -- but not quite -- breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Lawrence's voice. Thank fucking Christ.

"Lawrence, I --"

"Christ, bra, what are you doing to that kid?"

Doing?? He wasn't doing anything. Another wince when Hunter shrieked even louder, and Karl started rocking the crib a little faster.

"Shh, Hunter, Daddy's here." Not that this seemed to be reassuring Hunter. At all. In fact, given the increased volume, Karl would have to say that Hunter was less than thrilled with him at the moment.

"Uh...Lawrence. Help."

Soft chuckling drifted through the phone, and Karl debated throwing it across the room. He was pretty sure that was a bad idea, though. The sound would just make Hunter cry harder. And he kinda needed the phone to talk to Lawrence.

"Please, mate. I'm begging here."

"I hear that." Another very amused chuckle. "Where's Natalie?"

"Sent her off on a girl's night out." Okay, rocking wasn't working. Time for Plan...um...what was he on, D? E? "We've been fine until about ten minutes ago. Then, this." Karl tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear and picked his still shrieking son up from the crib, wincing as the decibel level rose even higher.

"Tried feeding him?"

Karl could barely hear Lawrence over Hunter's cries. "Yeah," he shouted.

Big mistake. Karl hadn't thought that Hunter could possibly get any louder. But he did, right after jumping when Karl shouted.

"Come again?" Karl asked, missing what Lawrence had just said.

"I said, have you checked his diaper?"

"Yeah," Karl replied, remembering not to shout this time.

"Burped him?"

"Christ, Lawrence, he's six months old, I know what I'm doing, alright?" Karl tried like hell to keep the frustration out of his voice -- he did need Lawrence's advice, after all -- but it was very hard when his son was screaming bloody murder. Right, they said pride was the first thing to go. "Now, please. I'm begging."

"Okay, okay." And Karl could hear distinct laughter in Lawrence's voice. "I'll be over in just a bit."

"Thanks," Karl said, but Lawrence had already hung up.

Sinking into a chair, Karl tried bouncing Hunter a bit, hoping that would work. No such luck. Rocking didn't do anything, either. "It's okay, son," Karl murmured softly to his son, cradling the small, stiff body close. "The expert'll be here soon."

* * *

Lawrence thought it was a very good thing that Karl and Natalie lived in a rather secluded area, because otherwise someone would think Karl was torturing the child. He cringed as he climbed the steps, wondering why he was giving up a rare quiet night at home, away from his own sons.

"Thank Christ!"

Lawrence glanced up into Karl's panicked eyes as Karl rubbed slow circles across his son's shaking back. Remembered that friendship wasn't always convenient. But that it was worth it. "Gimme," he said, holding out his arms when he reached the door.

Karl looked like he might object for a second, but Hunter chose that moment to let out another piercing wail, and Lawrence found his arms full of wriggling baby a second later. "It's alright, poppet," he crooned, cradling the infant close. "We'll fix it."

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Karl said as he hovered, peering at his son from behind wire frames.

"First, you need to calm down and relax." Lawrence gave Karl a pointed look, gently bounced Hunter in an effort to quiet him. "Babies can tell when you get stressed, and it makes them stressed."

"I am calm," Karl insisted, then winced at his own voice. Okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly calm. But he had a right to be not calm. Deep breaths, deep breaths... "Why isn't he shutting up?"

"He's upset."

"Yes, I can hear that." Karl glowered for a moment, twisting his hands together. "You don't think it's colic, do you? Or maybe a rash. I always check when I change him, but it could've just--"

"Karl."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." But Lawrence's smile was kind as he pressed Hunter close, cradling him in large hands, walking into the house. "If it was colic," he continued, moving into the kitchen, "he'd be curled up in a tight ball."

Karl followed. "What're you doing?"

"Warming him a bottle."

Yes, Karl could see that as he watched Lawrence pull a bottle from the fridge and move to the microwave. "I already tried that."

"Yeah, but I'm not all stressed out like I'm sure you were." Lawrence winked, popped the bottle in the microwave, still managing to bounce Hunter in one arm. "And stop hovering. Go sit."

"But--"

Lawrence pointed to the kitchen table. "Sit."

Right. Sitting. Good idea. Karl bounced one knee up and down, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he watched Lawrence. Thought maybe Hunter seemed a bit better, although it was hard to tell the way his tiny face was all scrunched up and red like that.

"Is he supposed to be that red?"

"Karl --"

"Yeah?"

"Shush."

Shush. Gotcha. Karl shushed and watched as Lawrence pulled the bottle out, then tested it. And...nope, Hunter didn't want it. Karl had the absurd urge to say "Told ya so!" when his son spit the nipple out and screamed again.

"Stubborn thing, aren't you?" Lawrence asked, petting Hunter's hair. "Just like your daddy." He turned to Karl. "And you said you changed him, right?"

Karl fought the urge to grit his teeth. "Yes."

"Well, let's do it again, alright?"

Lawrence was far too calm. Then again, it wasn't his son that was currently screaming his little head off, but Karl wasn't exactly in the mood to be rational. His son was probably dying of the bubonic plague right now -- oh God, he hadn't even thought about that yet -- and Lawrence was...

"You invite anyone else over?"

"Hmm?"

Lawrence shook his head and headed out of the kitchen. "Your doorbell's ringing."

What? Oh. OH!

Karl headed to the door with no clue who was on the other side. He just prayed that it wasn't Natalie having lost her keys. With Hunter screaming like a banshee in pain, Karl'd be lucky if Natalie spoke to him again before the next millennium.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're not supposed to pinch babies?"

Karl blinked as Viggo strolled into the house. Hunter's screams still echoed down the hall from his room where, Karl presumed, Lawrence was changing his diaper.

"Didn't pinch him!"

"Sure about...hey, Lawrence."

"Hey, Vig." Lawrence barely glanced up as he set Hunter down, rubbing his belly soothingly. Hunter didn't seem to think too much of this, Karl noted.

"Um, thought you were changing him."

Lawrence snorted. "Mate, I've had my fill of changing dirty nappies. I'm just here as an observer."

"Dirty?" Karl was positive his eyes were bugging out of his head. "No wonder he's screaming!"

"It's not dirty," Lawrence explained patiently, the words accompanied by an exasperated look. "It's not even wet."

"But you said --"

"Let it go, Karl." Viggo dropped into a chair and watched Lawrence with Hunter. "You tried feeding him?"

"Yes," came the reply, in stereo.

"And he's not wet," Viggo mused, tapping a finger to his chin. "How long ago was his nap?"

Nap? Karl blinked, then took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Um...Christ..." He tried to remember, but it was hard to think with Hunter still crying, tiny arms and legs thrashing about in frustration.

Lawrence and Viggo exchanged a look. "Well, there you are," Lawrence stated.

"He's tired," Viggo added. Karl assumed he was trying to be helpful. Only he wasn't. Being helpful. Bloody artist types just wanted to sit there and give advice.

"Overly tired if you ask me," Lawrence continued, big hand still rubbing Hunter's belly. And Karl didn't see where Hunter was enjoying that.

"Well, why won't he go to sleep?" Another wail had Karl wincing. Christ...it couldn't be healthy for him to scream this long.

"Because you won't let him," Lawrence said.

"Huh?" Not let him? If Hunter wanted to sleep, of course Karl would let him. He just didn't see how such a thing was possible with him screaming like that. Be a bit hard to sleep, if anyone asked him. Which, he noted, they weren't. Just sitting there, looking smug.

"He's sensing your stress," Viggo added, then cocked his head. "You expecting company?"

"What?"

"How many people did you call before me?" Lawrence asked.

"I didn't call anyone," Karl insisted in a weak voice as he went back to the door. This time it was Natalie. He just knew it. So he better prepare for his funeral.

"You know you can hear Hunter screaming all the way out in the street?"

"Harry?" Karl was dumbfounded. And he couldn't remember the last time he'd been dumbfounded.

"Lawrence, what're you doing to the kid?" Harry asked, strolling in, making himself at home.

"Trying to put him to sleep since his dad obviously can't."

Karl wondered if it would look terribly unmanly if he cried just then.

"Wore the little bugger out, did you?" Harry adjusted the wire frames of this glasses and glanced down into the crib. "Loud for such a bitty thing, in'he?"

"You should've heard Henry when he was that age," Viggo said, slouching even further in his chair, still looking far too calm. "I swear he was all lung."

"Sounds like Sharai," Lawrence said, still rubbing slow circles across Hunter's belly.

His son was dying, and his friends were discussing their own children like it was no big deal. Karl wondered when he'd completely lost control of the situation. Decided it was right around the time Natalie said she was pregnant.

"Karl, sit down. You're hovering."

"I am not," Karl snapped, flashed a dark look at Viggo. Well, okay. Maybe he was. A little. But Christ, that was his son there, screaming his life away.

"C'mon, mate." Harry took Karl's arm and led him to the rocking chair.

"But --"

"Karl, you have to relax," Lawrence said. And was he...oh, God, he was. Karl watched in something bordering on horror as Lawrence picked up Hunter and carried him, still screaming at the top of his lungs, over to Karl.

"Lawrence, what're you--?" The rest of his question was cut off when Lawrence placed Hunter in Karl's arms and stepped back.

"Now, rock. And relax."

Rock? Relax? Yeah, yeah, okay, he could do this. "'S'alright, love," he crooned to his son, cradling him in a secure embrace. "I've got you."

"There you go," Viggo said, giving a smile of encouragement as Hunter hiccupped, and stared at Karl through watery eyes. "Just keep that up."

Karl's smile was shaky, and he wasn't sure this was such a good idea, but he continued to rock. And Hunter continued to quietly watch him, tear stains drying on his little cheeks.

"Who wants a beer?" Lawrence asked after watching Karl for a moment.

Karl just shook his head. And continued rocking. And softly crooning to his son. Who was still quiet.

It was a miracle. Had to be.

"Sounds lovely," Harry said softly, squeezing Karl's shoulder as he passed by. "You're doing fine, mate. Just remember to breathe."

Breathe. Rock. Relax. Seemed like a lot to remember, but Karl gave it a go. He was barely aware of Viggo and Lawrence following Harry out of the room. His entire focus was on his son's fluttering eyelashes as he gave a sigh that wracked his entire body. "It's alright," Karl murmured, smiling a little in relief when Hunter yawned, waving a tiny fist. "'M'not going anywhere." His smile widened when that tiny fist curled in his shirt, clutching it tightly. "That's it, love," he whispered. "Got you now."

Tiny eyelids drooped, then popped open. Again. And again. But Hunter didn't make a sound, just continued to clutch Karl's shirt as Karl continued to rock. And breathe. And relax.

* * *

"Look cute like that, don't they?" Harry asked, careful to keep his voice low.

Lawrence nodded and leaned against the door next to Harry. His beer bottle dangled loosely in his hand. "Pity you don't have your camera, Vig."

Viggo smiled as he took a sip of his own beer. "Yeah, it is."

"Reckon Karl might have one..." Harry trailed off, head snapping up at the sound of keys in the door.

"Mom's home," Lawrence murmured with a grin, eyes still fastened on Hunter and Karl.

Viggo just grinned and took another sip of beer.

"Hey guys," Natalie said, peeking around Lawrence's arm into the room. "Wow. Cozy." Her smile was one of private warmth as her gaze took in the sight of Hunter sprawled out, fast asleep on Karl's chest, both of them snoring softly.

"We were debating a camera," Viggo said.

"You should." Natalie glanced around. "So, how long've you guys been here?"

"Not too long," Harry replied. "Just long enough to say goodnight to Hunter."

"Karl did a bang up job, love," Lawrence added, bending to kiss Natalie's cheek. "He's getting the hang of this Dad business."

"Handled it like a true pro," Viggo stated, winking at the other two men.

"Right, so," Harry said, straightening. "Reckon we better get out of here so Natalie can put the boys to bed."

"Thanks for keeping him company." Natalie's smile was bright as she glanced at each of them before stepping into the room.

Lawrence waited until they were all on the front porch before speaking again. "What d'you bet it's another week before Karl recovers?"

"Be longer than that before he agrees to let Natalie go out again," Harry laughed as they strolled down the steps.

"Poor kid," Viggo said, shaking his head. And it wasn't really clear if he was talking about Hunter or about Karl.


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