santa newt is coming to town

[sciencesaggressively]

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.

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[sciencesaggressively]

There's more to watch Sawyer says than he's actually saying, Newt can hear it in his friend's tone and hell, it's the truth. It makes him think of Hermann, of hooking himself up to the neural bridge on what basically would have been a suicide mission if his lab partner hadn't stepped in to offer his help. They'd carried that burden together, they'd been Drift compatible, which ultimately hadn't surprised him at all because after a decade of working together, of course he'd put his trust in Hermann. Even if he wouldn't have admitted it out loud to the guy like, ever.

It's hard to dwell on thoughts of his old life when there's a ridiculously cute little girl trying to stop him from playing with her tutu, though. He plucks at it again, laughing softly at the way she looks up at him with a frown and a frustrated huff. He lets her put her hand on his this time, feigning distress as he leans in to give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "You got me, you got me, what do I do now?" he whines, and Clementine lets out a squeal of delight.

"She likes to cause me pain," Newt teases, glancing back up at Sawyer with a wide grin. "She really is just like you. And uh, yeah, no, we're definitely set on the not having kids thing." When Kate had thought she'd gotten pregnant after Mardi Gras, they'd come to the agreement together that they wouldn't go through with having the baby if it turned out she was. Neither of them are ready to shoulder that kind of responsibility, neither of them are trying to be ready for that, and most of the time, Newt's just awkward and uncomfortable around kids anyway because he doesn't know how to talk to them or act around them or anything around them. "I mean, a mini-Kate does sound cute, but I think I'd rather settle for seeing baby picture of her than having an actual baby of our own. Besides, why have kids when I can just come over here and see yours? It works out just fine."

[confidenceman]

"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."

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt lets what Sawyer says marinate for a moment, having very uncharacteristically remained silent throughout the whole story because honestly, he's never thought much about why he doesn't want kids, he just knows that never has. "Y'know, when the first kaiju came out of the water in L.A., it fucked things up royally but it was kind of just a crazy ass thing that happened, something that wasn't ever supposed to happen again. Then the second one came, then the third and the fourth and eventually, everything just kind of went to shit."

He hadn't paid much attention to the people, really, his interest and focus had always been with the kaiju and maybe that's why it'd made it that much easier for people to mistake his fascination with the creatures for some sick and twisted admiration. He'd decorated his body with images of them, after all, had practically transformed himself into a walking shrine for the things that had killed so many people's families and destroyed so many cities and if they couldn't take their frustrations out on the kaiju, Newt would have been the next best thing.

But he still hadn't cared, not really. He appreciates all the friends he's made here, has never known friendships like the ones he has now before, but he hadn't joined the PPDC to make friends. He'd joined it to find a way to save the world because he'd firmly believed that he could--and he had, he fucking had, but it'd taken nearly a decade of watching more destruction and tragedy. How could he have wanted to bring a kid into that? There's no way, and he knows it's different here. The skin lice had been one thing but Newt highly doubts that there's going to be any kaiju popping up from under the boardwalk anytime soon. Still, the thought of having a kid here, trapped by invisible forces that nobody can even actually explain doesn't quite sit well with him. Whether it does for anyone else doesn't matter, people with different opinions do actually exist even if Newt sometimes refuses to acknowledge that, but he just knows it's not some he'd want.

"I guess I just figure that no matter where you are or where you're from or where you go, there's something you'll want to protect your kid from but at the same time, you can never protect everyone from everything. Last year, That Night? I couldn't even protect myself, and I wasn't even fucking doing anything, all I did was step outside for a breath of fresh air and--" He cuts himself off, sighing heavily as he wipes at the slight perspiration that's formed on his brow. He doesn't get as worked up thinking about what had happened anymore but sometimes... Sometimes it just hits him.

"Anyway," he continues, glancing at Clementine who is staring at him curiously before meeting Sawyer's gaze and offering a wide smile, though it's not as genuine as it could be. "Like you said, I can devote my attention to Clementine and at the end of the day, I can hand her right back to you. That's the way to go, at least for someone like me."

[confidenceman]

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."

[sciencesaggressively]

One thing Newt's learned since landing his ass in Darrow is that it doesn't matter how big the shit anyone's seen is, it still seems like nearly everyone who's ended up here has been fucked up in some way or another. He knows Kate's been through some heavy stuff on that island she'd been on before she'd woken up here but even back in Kansas, her life hadn't exactly been easy. It hadn't been simple, it hadn't even been all that desirable, but the point is that they've helped each other get past the only things they've ever known. It's not like Newt's exactly glad that he lives in a city he can't even leave, that he'd been brought here against his will, but in a lot of ways, the people he's met since coming here have made him better.

He wouldn't have cared a year and a half ago. He'd have been too busy trying to figure out how the kaiju tick to give a damn about taking the time to get to know anyone or making sure that the person he loves knows for sure every single day that he loves her or just sitting on the floor of a friend's apartment so he can play with his baby daughter. None of that would have mattered to him at all, the kaiju attacks had been tragic but fascinating because there hadn't even really been any close enough to him to worry about, and that's what the truth comes down to in the end. His closest friend had been his lab partner and sometimes, Newt hadn't even been convinced that they really liked each other all that much.

"I didn't know that stuff," Newt mumbles, eyes fixed on the floor. Clementine's gone quiet, like she can sense that there's some kind of tension, and he forces himself to look up at her and smile because he's pretty sure that as much as he wouldn't want to have one, babies are way more in tune with the world than adults give them credit for. What he'd thought before is true, they're all fucked up, and it's all they can really do to keep the innocent ones from suffering the same fate.

"Sometimes it's just like, what if Kate's the one who'd gone outside and not me, y'know? Or anyone else who'd been at the bar that night, what if it'd been one of them and they weren't as lucky as me?" Maybe lucky isn't quite the right word but he's here, he's breathing, he's freakin' alive when maybe he shouldn't be because he's pretty sure he's used up most of his lives by now. "But I guess there's no use thinking that way. I used to get kind of freaked by the idea of waking up to her just gone, just like, disappeared from the city but that's no way to live. We just have to make the most of what we have while we have it, right?"

[confidenceman]

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.