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Dr. Newton Geiszler ([personal profile] sciencesaggressively) wrote2014-12-26 12:45 am
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santa newt is coming to town

Newt has discovered that he hates shopping for babies.

It's the looks that get him, the looks and the pointing from expectant mothers and their friends who think he can't hear or see them, who are all smiling and whispering conspiratorially about how sweet it is that he's shopping for his little girl, and Newt kind of just wants to rip all his hair out so he can throw it at these women because he so wouldn't be here if he didn't have to be.

He blames Texas Ranger. Yeah, he totally blames Texas Ranger because if Sawyer hadn't had his kid dropped on his doorstep, Newt wouldn't have to be shopping for her stupidly cute little self, thus avoiding the exact kind of attention he doesn't want. Actually, if he's being honest, he maybe doesn't mind it as much as he'll definitely say he does to anyone who asks. He's got a shopping cart full of clothes for Clementine, like this snowsuit with the little ears on the hood and that super badass Batman costume that she'll definitely be thanking her Uncle Newt for one day.

He's never wanted kids, still doesn't want kids, is perfectly happy with his and Kate's decision not to have kids, but it turns out that dealing with his friends' kids isn't so bad. He thinks that's mostly because he can hand them back at the end of the day but whatever, it's fine, Newt thinks that's totally fair. In the end, he leaves the mall with nine new outfits for Clementine, three pairs of shoes, a super soft plush dinosaur that he's thinking of just keeping for himself, and a sweet leather jacket that's warm enough for the winter for Sawyer. It doesn't take that long to haul all his bounty back to Dimera, heading straight for the second floor and knocking on the door.

It's Christmastime, Newt's second in Darrow, and he's glad to share in it when he remembers that for a long, long time, the holidays had stopped being on people's radar. It's hard to think about gift giving when any day could bring more death and destruction to the world, he supposes, but he's here now. He's here, he's married, he's happy, and he's ready to spread a little bit of Christmas fucking cheer.
confidenceman: (confidence is a must)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2014-12-27 08:19 am (UTC)(link)
One of the nice and completely unexpected benefits to having a kid is how much easier it is to get out of certain types of commitments. Sorry, can't make that work outing; got a kid at home who needs looking after. Or, sorry, can't make your missus' party, don't think Clementine would get along with wine glasses and fine china. It's convenient as hell to turn everyone towards visiting him instead, and the amount of energy that he saves on shuttling to and fro in the city leaves Sawyer in a pretty decent mood, all things considered, this holiday season.

Helps that Clementine's able to help herself a bit, too. He still has to feed her, change her diapers, do everything parents are meant to do, but now that Clementine's on her feet and easily zooming around the apartment, she's also able to make it pretty clear what she's after. Sawyer knows a lot of people will warn about how rowdy kids get after they learn how to talk, but frankly, he can't wait for that day to come, when he'll stop being able to rely on guesswork to tend to his daughter.

The past couple of days, Clementine's insisted on wearing some of the holiday-themed clothes Sawyer purchased for her. Namely, she won't let go of the fluffy Santa hat and red tutu he bought about a week back, using both hands to cling to the white fluff as she stumbles around. When the knock sounds on the door, Clementine shrieks, and nearly falls on her butt right in the middle of the living room. With a snort, Sawyer reaches over to pick her up, placing her on his hip before making his way over to the door.

Spotting Newt through the peephole, Sawyer roars with laughter and opens the door, stepping aside to let him in.

"Well, look who decided to visit," he remarks with a grin. Clementine's expression lights up immediately, and she throws both arms open in Newt's direction.

"New!" she smiles, hat drooping slightly down her forehead. "New-new!"

"Come on in. Christ, looks like you sure went to town at the mall. All of that for me?" Sawyer jokes, before reaching under the small, LED-lit tree in the corner of his living room for a small, but prettily wrapped box. Something about the sunglasses inside had screamed Newt for one reason or another. "Makes me feel a little self-conscious, forkin' over such a small box."
confidenceman: (too high; can't come down)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-01-02 07:46 am (UTC)(link)
Though Sawyer likes to think of himself as far from being the most sentimental parent around, he can't help the swell of emotion that he feels upon seeing Clementine excitedly interacting with Newt, nor does he ever stop being grateful for the fact that the two of them get along so well together. Or the fact that on the whole, his friends have been supportive of his shift from reckless bachelor to actually-kind-of-competent father, a transformation that's certainly whittled down on his free time and social life.

He doesn't have much time to dwell on the thought before Clementine ends up interrupting his thoughts with a bright laugh, pushing up Newt's glasses a touch before she ends up resting a hand against his beard instead. Knowing that she's the center of attention, Clementine smiles coyly at both of the men, then leans forward to press a kiss — or, in true baby fashion, more of a headbutt with lips first — against Newt's cheek.

"You know what? She actually picked out both of those things herself. I took her to see one of the Santas at the mall, and wouldn't you know it, she ain't got too much interest in the guy. It's all about what he wears, instead. So then she fusses until I take her to a toy store, and she walks around fast enough to get into this basket of Santa hats, one in each hand. I didn't have the heart to fight it," Sawyer chuckles, making his way over to the kitchen with Clementine clinging thoughtfully to his shoulder. "Between your influence and Kate's, I'm pretty sure this one's gonna grow up into quite the fashionista."

Bending over to let Clementine down, Sawyer watches as she tears as fast as she can towards the living room, patting the armrest of the couch and looking expectantly at Newt. Reaching for Newt's boxes, he sets them down on the kitchen counter, then turns to the cabinets with a grin. "Anyway, if you're hopin' to be responsible for my first time wearing a dress, I'm afraid that honor went to someone else. But, I can't say I've ever worn a wedding dress. That photoshoot might put all of y'all to shame," he grins, pulling out a couple of glasses and a sippy cup. "Make it alternating weekends and Fridays, and I think you've got yourself a deal. You want something to drink?"
confidenceman: (a guy like you should wear a warning)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-01-15 05:53 am (UTC)(link)
"I hope you've got a pair of contacts somewhere, unless by tearin' up the city, you meant literally. Though I think the city might tear you up first," Sawyer admits, squinting over at Newt for a moment, trying to imagine how he'd take the city down. Would probably need one of those pet kaiju or whatever the hell the word was. (Even after knowing Newt for so long and having been lectured on the things more than once, Sawyer has to admit that he's pretty sure he can't even list five things he knows about them. He'd probably be better off if he were handed a textbook.)

"I thought about getting you prescription, but didn't know how to ask without it giving away the present. Guess I'm just that kinda asshole who'd rather give a real surprise than a present that's thoughtful," grins Sawyer, peering in his fridge at the drinks he has available. For a second, he's almost tempted to pour Newt a glass of milk, but he's got enough experience with offering people lactose to know it's not a good idea unless absolutely necessary.

Pulling out a carton of enriched soy milk for Clementine — her favorite, slightly sweeter than cow's milk — and a tall bottle of hard cider to share with Newt, Sawyer pours each drink in quick succession.

"I actually don't give Cleo a lotta juice. Way too much sugar. Can you imagine," he glances up with a snort, "me actually being responsible about food? I used to clear out a six pack of beer every couple of days before she got here. Now it takes me a couple of months. Don't even recognize myself anymore."

Balancing the sippy cup and the glasses easily in his hands, a much appreciated skill learned after months at the parenting thing, Sawyer holds out a glass for Newt.
confidenceman: (losin' my head spinnin' round and round)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-01-21 06:49 am (UTC)(link)
A few years ago, Newt's assessment of Sawyer would have felt completely implausible. A good friend? Taking care of others? Some part of Sawyer might argue that the only reason why he didn't get around to any of that was because he didn't have the luxury of caring for anyone other than himself — but the greater truth is that he never wanted to put in the effort. People were unreliable, unpredictable, and downright cruel. The only way to avoid being constantly shortchanged because of it was to join in the activity.

Or at least, so Sawyer thought.

It's been a while since he last was that cold and calculating, and these days, the smiles he wears are genuine more often than derisive. Still, being called a good friend only pulls Sawyer's memories back to the first time he'd really had someone believe that deeply in him. Someone who didn't treat him like some jerk who needed to be fixed, but instead like a person who'd simply been wearing the wolfskin for far too long.

He's pretty sure that the way he is with Clementine and Flavia wouldn't surprise Juliet at all.

"You know, I'm pretty sure you're just a barnacle who hangs on until someone has to take care of you, or otherwise risk your life weighing on their conscience forever," he remarks, crouching when Clementine suddenly rushes over, tutu bobbing through her run as she reaches out for her cup. "You start callin' me daddy though, and I will spank you. And not in the sexy way."

Cleo sits herself down on the floor, sipping from her cup while she stares at the pair.

"Oh, and don't worry about swearing in front of her. Not like she understands. And not like swearing has ever broken a kid."
confidenceman: (and maybe i could be your girl)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-01-31 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
"No one can take care of themselves all the time," Sawyer counters quietly, trying not to make too big a deal out of the statement. He knows that it can be easily turned on him — can be used to point out all the times when Sawyer unhelpfully pushed other people away with no regard for his own well-being. Ironically, having other people who are dependent on him has made Sawyer more open to receiving support. He can swallow his pride and suspicion if it's for Clementine's sake, or Flavia and Ophelia's. There are times when he still tries to put up a front, act like nothing's changed since he truly became a father, but Sawyer knows that's not true.

He grins as he watches Newt settle down on the floor next to Clementine. It's hard to tell which one of them has more energy and curiosity for life, and Sawyer feels a little old and worn by comparison. There are worse things, though.

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Sawyer watches as Clementine lets out a little whine when Newt messes with her tutu. She places her sippy cup gently on the ground, before leaning forward and nearly rolling over in an effort to pin Newt's hand down.

"Girls are a hell of a lot cuter than boys, I'll tell you that. Hell, I wasn't even with Clementine's mom when she was born, and my memory of her ain't as sharp as it used to be, but I still think Clementine's the cutest thing ever. I can only imagine how you'd end up feelin' about a mini-Kate running around everywhere, sassin' everyone she meets," Sawyer agrees, taking a swig out of his bottle. "I know not everyone wants to do the whole kid thing, though. You're pretty set on not, right? And Kate even more so?"
confidenceman: (confidence is a must)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-02-07 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
"You only say that 'cause you don't know her mother," Sawyer counters, though he can't help the surge of pride that he feels upon hearing the suggestion that Clementine might take after him. Even though Sawyer's pretty sure that she'd be better off taking after Cassidy, he can't deny that there are times when he looks for hints of himself in his daughter. It's not vanity. Instead, it's the disbelief that remains lodged in his chest over the fact that he managed to help create a child so perfect.

It doesn't seem possible for someone as flawed as he is to produce a person so good and loving.

He grins as Clementine raises a hand to smack squarely in the center of Newt's face, little fingers poking around his nose. "I gotta admit, my kid is pretty great. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate anyone else's kids half as well, so it's good that you ain't makin' any. Means you can devote all your attention to my little brat," he snickers, reaching out to ruffle Clementine's hair lightly. "I get it, though. Ain't everyone meant to have kids. I... you know, back home, I didn't think I'd ever really be in Clementine's life. I thought about goin' to see her once, when I was just about to get myself off of the damn island I was stuck on, but I chickened out. I can pretend that I turned back to give other folks a better chance of making it off, but no. I didn't know how I'd be able to head back to the States and deal with having the choice of seeing her or not. And then later..."

He pauses, gaze dropping as his smile fades. "Well, let's just say that I was with someone who would've made a terrific mother, but it didn't work out. If Darrow hadn't pulled this one over, I don't think I ever would've really tried for kids."
confidenceman: (baby can't you see; i'm calling)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-02-14 08:38 am (UTC)(link)
Perhaps the most difficult thing about watching Newt parse through his thoughts is the fact that Sawyer can empathize. Almost wholly, he's pretty sure. Because he's watched his own life spiral out of control time and time again, and as hard as that had been at the time, it was infinitely worse once the chaos spread to the rest of the people he cared for. It was worse when the faces who disappeared and the lives that were extinguished were people Sawyer knew. People Sawyer would have picked to stay around longer than he'd managed to. A weight on his chest wouldn't be quite accurate — no, every better person who passed away before Sawyer did remains on his skin like an invisible brand. Rarely does Sawyer show any sign that he thinks about them at all; he walks straight, chin up, no weight on his shoulders like some of the cliches might have people believe. The mark is far less noticeable than that.

It's something that doesn't belong, and sometimes it wakes him in a jolt of fear, like looking into the reflection of a mirror and not recognizing who's on the other side.

There are days when Sawyer still isn't sure who he is, or where he's woken up. The world's never given him a great anchor, he thinks. Never one that he could hold to like a lifeline.

"There was a time when I felt that about everyone," he says quietly, trying his best to stop his hands from shaking, though a tremble escapes them here and there. "Like... there wasn't really a way to protect everyone at all times, so what was the damn point in gettin' to know anyone at all? People would disappear. If you were lucky, they'd disappear quietly, peacefully, in their sleep or some crap like that. But you're not gonna be lucky all the time. I lost my parents when I was a kid. Mom fell for a con man. Dad found out and shot her, then shot himself. And hell, the people I lost just as violently as that, I can't even count them on both hands."

Sawyer raises his hand, trying to rub at his forehead, though the shake of his fingers makes it hard to find purchase against his skin.

"I know you've seen shit that's a whole lot bigger than anything I did. But it kept happenin'. It was never all at once. You'd think that you'd seen the worst of it, and the next time, it's twice as horrifyin'," he says, eyes feeling dry as he keeps his gaze on his daughter. "I'm scared every day, Newt. Can't count to you how many times I wake up in cold sweat, probably same as you. And there ain't a day when having Clementine around doesn't scare me as much as it makes me happy."
confidenceman: (and maybe i could be your girl)

[personal profile] confidenceman 2015-02-19 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
Sawyer waves his hand dismissively when Newt points out that he had never known that part of Sawyer's past. He's not here to make Newt feel miserable. He's not here to make Newt feel sorry for him, because pity doesn't help — if anything, it just makes things worse, like filling a room with the water that'll eventually drown them. Pity is heavy. Pity piles up in its weight. All that Sawyer wants is the ability for them to have some common ground between their lives, otherwise as different as night and day.

The one commonality all people have is finding out, at some point in their lives, that life sucks.

"I ain't tryin' to get you down by mentioning all of that. It is... what it is," Sawyer concludes with a sigh. Some parts of his history are easier to swallow than others. Some things, he knows he couldn't have changed the course of. Others, he still feels responsible for. But maybe that's a conversation for a different day. "Anyway, you hit it on the head. Can't go 'round assuming that everything's gonna turn out the worst possible way, otherwise it all turns into a damn self-fulfilling prophecy. You'll stop yourself from livin' life out as much as you can. The way I figure, some stuff... some stuff we're a hell of a lot luckier about already than most people in the world. And I say that even though I ain't much of a glass half full person."

After staring for a few seconds, Clementine smiles again, forgoing her newly acquired skill of walking and choosing instead to crawl over to Newt, climbing onto his lap as well as she can.