Chapter Text
Their first twenty-four hours as a family of four (including Peaches) went by in a blur. An iridescent blur of love and wonder in which they barely left the bed and drifted from skin to skin snuggles, to soft kisses, tender touches and (mostly) blissful sleep.
Time felt suspended. Nothing else in the universe mattered. It was just the four of them, in their little bubble, taking care of and adoring each other.
Afterwards Luke would reflect on his reverence for Cassie and how grateful he was that she insisted on a homebirth. It wasn’t just special that she had been able to completely embody her own power and bring their baby girl into the world in a such a peaceful, safe and meaningful environment. It was also that they got to be here together, right from the start, to fully embrace this new and awe-inspiring journey in the comfort and familiarity of their own home, without any unnecessary interruptions or transitions. That he got to dote on them both, share every moment and be there to support and honour them in ways he might not have been able, if they had been separated.
“Look at these…” Luke was enthralled by Frankie’s tiny fingers and toes as he lay on his back not daring to move in the slightest, for fear of disturbing his baby girl, asleep on his chest. “And look at you,” he turned to Cassie, sitting on the end of the bed with her notebooks, the sun like a halo behind her, “just look at you.” He didn’t think it was possible to grow fonder of her, and yet here he was, her biggest groupie.
Cassie would remark at the natural confidence in which Luke morphed into a father. In some ways it had been happening gradually, ever since they had decided to start a family, but maybe even before that. Luke had always had strong family values. And Hailey had been right all those years ago, he was really good with kids. His volunteer youth work at the base and his ability to have more presence in Spencer’s life had solidified that. But actually holding his own baby girl in his arms, being responsible for another human, one that was so precious and dependant - that was something else altogether. Just as he had risen to the challenge of being a “real” husband, he stepped up as little Frankie’s dad. Cassie had no doubt that he would show up for them, no matter what.
She saw it in the way he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly before cutting her umbilical cord. In the beaming smile and utter adulation when he cradled a curled-up Frankie to his bare chest. In the quiet way he talked to her as his hands moved slowly and carefully changing her nappy or doing anything that required her cooperation. In the way he supported her head and tiny pink body as he bathed her for the first time. In the way he listened and held space for her to cry when she was hungry or tired or scared and couldn’t get what she needed straight away. In the way that he took the lead when Cassie was too exhausted to mum, warming bottles and feeding Frankie, cleaning the equipment, burping, changing, and rocking her to sleep if needed.
“You’re so good at this,” Cassie murmured tiredly one night as he fed Frankie to sleep. “How are you so good at this?”
Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There was blood, and pain, uncertainty, tears, spilt milk, spew and a lot of poop. They still had to eat and bathe, do laundry and take care of Peaches.
There was the fatigue, which hit like a wrecking ball about day three, after a long and hazy night of cluster feeds and hormonally induced feels. That was a trip.
Amidst all of that there was managing Cassie’s diabetes.
But together they got through and soon enough they were parents to a one-week-old, and then a two-week-old and time rolled on. Life was full, and so were their hearts.
They did nothing outside of home for as a long as they could. Nothing but revel in each other’s company, walk on the beach, run, do yoga, write songs and take care of their newborn. Eat and lounge and love on each other.
Their families and friends visited. Just the close ones. Like Nora and her wife and kid, the rest of the band and their manager. Marisol, and Luke’s family. A couple of Luke’s colleagues from the security firm and his charity work.
“She’s so tiny,” Spencer decreed the first time he held her. “Was I this small, mum?” It was hard to imagine the gangly 12-year-old back then, but Luke remembered. That was before he’d lost his way.
Hailey and Marisol provided them with constant supplies of food, for which they were extremely grateful and when Luke eventually started taking on a few jobs here and there, Marisol stayed in their spare room for support.
Pretty soon they couldn’t imagine what life had been like before Francesca arrived.
They returned to their careers, with some necessary adjustments. They shared the load, like they always had, and Frankie was with them every step of the way, as if she’d been there forever, always a part of them. Because that’s how they’d agree to try and work it.
Luke hadn’t wanted Cassie to give up her dream. And Cassie knew how much Luke’s work meant to his mental health.
So Frankie was there, riding Luke’s shoulders and clapping her hands, after he completed his 15th marathon in six years. She was there, safe in her carrier on Luke’s chest, earmuffs on, when The Loyal played at their second Coachella Festival. She went with Luke when he worked out at the park and played on the floor or sat with Cassie while she made music in the studio or at home. She was a firm favourite at Morrow family BBQ’s and held a particularly soft spot in Jacob’s heart. And there was no need for rivalry between Luke and Cassie when Frankie’s first word turned out to be “abuela.”
If Luke happened to idolise Cassie more than was necessary, so be it. She was a rockstar after all. And if Cassie got a little turned on over the sight of him taking care of their baby girl, well… they sorted that out.
Which was likely what led to them welcoming a little sister for Frankie, into the world, two years later.
“How’d we get so lucky?” Luke mused one evening, precisely eight years on from the day they had said “I do.” Beside them Frankie and Eloise lay cuddled up together, asleep on the hotel bed. It never escaped him how his drug addiction and Cassie’s medical problems were ultimately what led them to each other. Their journey hadn’t exactly started out picture perfect. And yet here they were, at a hotel room in London, on the second leg of The Loyal’s new record tour and a few days out from the London marathon.
“All the hell we’ve been through had a purpose…” Cassie sang, tucking her head between his shoulder and cheek. She knew exactly where he was coming from because it wasn’t the first time they’d had this kind of conversation. It seemed every year one of them outwardly reminisced about their rocky start.
Luke clasped her hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing her finger where she still wore the dog tag ring he’d made her all those years ago, and had tattooed his name while he was in the brig. Every anniversary he offered to buy her a new ring, to renew their vows and redo the ceremony that had initially been a sham but had blossomed into a love neither could fathom, and a life beyond both their imaginations. Every year she refused.
“When are you going to accept my offer to replace this thing, and have a do-over of our wedding day?” Luke asked.
“Never.” Cassie replied resolutely, her eyes unwavering.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to erase everything that came before we realised it was real. It’s part of our story too.”
“Huh…” Luke nodded, his eyes sparkly and a sweet closed-lip smile creeping up his cheeks. She always knew what to say. It was the musician in her.
Cassie returned his kiss, placing her lips on the inside of his wrist where he’d marked their daughters’ names and birthdates, right underneath the ink tribute to his mum.
He pulled her closer with the crook of the arm that she was resting on, smirking into her hair as he propositioned her. “How ‘bout a redo of our wedding night then?”
Cassie laughed. “As memorable as that was, I think after eight years, we can do better.”
Eight years of loving and The Loyal, of comforting and keeping each other, of chaos and letting go of control, of mapping each other’s bodies and souls.
They may have been in a hotel room, just like their wedding night, but they were a long way from those two people who made their fake promises and shared a night of passion.
So he couldn’t argue with that. And he didn’t.
“Okay,” he smiled, kissing her. “Let’s do better then.”
And he scooped her up and carried her to the other bed.