(I'm not in the TMF Fandom anymore, but I still like the characters. Anyway, not a ship post, just an AU where teen Toby babysits a young Y/N.)
Toby needed a job, so why not look into babysitting? A job would get him out of the house and away from Frank. A few years ago, he met a little two-year-old you. He quickly became the go-to babysitter for you, and he actually liked the job. It got him out of the house, paid well, and he got to take care of someone. Someone he grew close to, you basically became a little sibling for him. Sometimes, he referred to you as his kid with Danny. It was parental bond he had no wishes of breaking.
He walked to your house with his hair up in a ponytail. He learned he needed to pull his hair up a long time ago when you pulled his hair. He couldn't feel pain, but seeing his scalp red and strands of his hair in your little hand scared him. He very much valued his hair.
Being six, you were pretty hyperactive. But at around seven, you'd crash out on the floor, and Toby had to carry you to bed. He grew some muscles ever since he started babysitting you.
"It's 6:50. You're gonna fall on the floor face first, and I don't wanna be blamed for you breaking your nose. So, stay." You were refusing to be put down in bed. Toby tucked you in and everything. You looked up at him with a pout. His hair was disheveled from chasing you all around the house, and locks of hair escaped his ponytail.
"You can't make me!" You said. You threw the blanket off and crossed your arms tightly over your chest. Toby sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"I think I can," he puts his hands on his hips and thinks of the best course of action. He thought of giving you melatonin, but he didn't think that would be healthy for your little brain. Bed time stories bored you to death, but not bored enough to put you to sleep... He noticed you had a lot of stuffed animals. That was a normal thing for a kid your age, but it gave him an idea. He had the thought of being a stuffed animal for you, just a human one. "I know I can."
Toby pushed you gently, giving him room to hop into bed. He settled in, and you gave a confused look. He pulled his hair tie out and slid it over his hand to rest over his wrist. It was a loose tie, so it won't cut off circulation. You reluctantly cuddled up to him, and he put a hand on the back of your head. Giving little scratches to your scalp that helped drown you into a sleepy state, his free arm that he was laying on moved to rest on your pillow, right above your little head. Toby liked overnight stays the most, that meant he didn't have to go home, well, the place that's meant to be a home. You often questioned why he always seemed bruised up, but he just ignored the question. The little cuts on his hands got you curious as well.
You eventually lulled to sleep. Your breathing slowed, and you were finally calm. Toby stopped scratching your head and just let it rest there. But you still had a tiny bit of energy, "Night, dad," you mumbled quietly before completing slipping onto an unconscious state.
Toby had to take a pause. He didn't know how to react to that. He just pulled you closer so your face was resting against his chest and hugged you close. "Night, kid..." he kissed the top of your head like a father would and felt pride. He's never felt pride before. But it felt good, really good.
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