Summary: Sometimes, life isn’t what you want it to be. But sometimes, it’s perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it’s going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
This bit here, no one but me has read, not even Taylor. It's a bit special, you see, because it's not told from either Zayn or Liam's point of view--it's told from their granddaughter Ruby's.
Part 13/13
When I get where I'm going/there'll be only happy tears/I will shed the sins and struggles I have carried all these years.
Emily sat in the waiting room at the doctor's office, waiting for her Da to finish up his business. When he emerged, he looked wearier than he had when he'd gone in.
"What is it, Da?" she asked, rising to her feet. She was in her mid fifties, had two children of her own, and she took the best care she could of her only remaining parent.
"Cancer," he said slowly, waving off the assistance she offered. "Should've guessed."
"Lung cancer?" she guessed, wondering if it was his smoking habit, and if she should have intervened earlier, back when they were kids.
"No, Em-bug," Da said, signing off a form and thanking the desk nurse politely. "Colon cancer. Late stages, too late to stop. I've got a few months left before it's spread enough to kill me."
"Oh, Da." Emily sat down heavily on her chair. "What are we going to do?"
"Same thing we did for your Dad," Da said wearily. "Wait until it's done and say goodbye."
The end was slow, a year in the making. He stayed at home until he couldn't get out of bed in the morning, then allowed Emily to move him to a convalescent hospital, knowing he wouldn't get better.
“Grandda?” Seventeen-year old Ruby poked her head in the door of her grandda's room. “You awake, Grandda?”
“Ruby, come sit.” Grandda's voice was soft, as always, but it conveyed so much love that Ruby’s heart felt like it was about to burst. Ruby padded quietly into the room and sat on the chair next to Grandda's bed. “Would you mind opening the curtains? I can’t quite get up myself.”
Ruby stood and pulled open the fine white lace curtains, and sunlight flooded the room, illuminating her Grandda's face. It always surprised her how handsome her grandfather was, even though he was past ninety and dying. She could see the young man he used to be in the lines of his face, buried beneath deep crow's feet and laughlines, a lifetime's worth of joys and worries woven across his face like a map.
She'd seen pictures, and videos, of her Grandda and Grandpa as young men, of Great-Uncle Niall and Great-Aunt Danielle, how they'd never quite lost the light in their eyes.
“How are you, grandda?”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Ruby.” Grandda admonished, reaching out and rapping Ruby across the knuckles with a bony finger. “It’s my body that’s going, not my mind.” Ruby nodded sheepishly, remembering everything her family had been through.
“Well, are you okay?”
“I’ve been better, and I don’t think I’ll be getting back up again. But tell me, how’s school going for you?”
Ruby grinned and launched into a tale about the relationship drama that surrounded her life at school, knowing Grandda would roll his eyes and ask if they had no sense, but also that Grandda loved this kind of thing, this whirlwind of relationships and drama that he never had growing up.
Grandda told her all the stories about when he was young, what he can remember that hasn't been blurred with time. Ruby’s heard about the summer nights spent with Grandpa on the porch with a shared cigarette and the stars, hummed harmonies and wishes that everything will end up all right, and she's heard about how Grandda always knew it was going to be Grandpa for him, how he never looked at anyone else and had his heart broken when Grandpa married Great-Aunt Danielle. She's heard all the stories, and she's written them down, learned what it was like to be a married gay couple in a small town, everything Grandda cared to tell her.
Grandda listened with his eyes closed, imagining what Liam would say about all this. The world has changed so much--the first female president in the US, medical cures thought impossible, a colony on Mars. Things that he wasn't sure how much he trusted, but things he knew would make his descendant's lives so much easier.
He's the last of the old generation, the last of them born before the new millennium. He'd watched as they'd all passed on, and at ninety three, the hardest part of being alive was missing those who had passed on, living until there was nothing left to live for.
But there was still a bit more for him to see, his children and great grandchildren, and now that he'd done that...well. There was nothing holding him here anymore.
Ruby seemed to sense Zayn's calm acceptance for the end and pauses in her narration to give Grandda a searching look. “How long?” she asked quietly.
Grandda opened his wise brown eyes and meet Ruby’s green ones dead on. “I haven’t the slightest idea, Ruby. But when I die, I don’t want you to cry for me.”
She isn’t sure why Grandda would ask this, but Grandda is Grandda, and he wouldn’t ask anything like that without a good reason.
“Okay. But can I miss you?”
“I'd be disappointed if you didn't.” Silence falls on the little hospital room, as Zayn remembered a conversation he’d had with Liam right before his husband's death seven years before.
“What do you think it’s like, where we’re going?”
“Where we’re going?” Zayn asked, clutching Liam's hand tightly, as if it would keep him grounded here on earth. It wasn’t too far off of a presumption, Zayn reasoned, since Liam had grown so light and thin that he seemed as if he’d float off into the sky if anyone let go for even a second.
“Yeah. Where we’re going. Heaven.”
“I dunno, Li. I’ll bet it’s beautiful, though.”
“Zayn?”
“Hm?”
“I’m going to ride a raindrop.”
Zayn laughed, clear and true. “I’m sure you will, Li. If it’s impossible, you’ll find a way.” He met Liam's eyes and rubbed away a tear.
“When you get there, we’ll do it together.”
“Okay, Li.”
“The first thing I’m gonna do is learn to fly.”
“Okay, Li.”
Liam's eyes fluttered shut and his voice grew drowsier.
“It’ll be nice to go to sleep for a good long while. I’m damn tired.”
“I bet you are, Li.”
“Don’t cry for me, Zayn. Don’t be sad. Promise me.”
Zayn choked back a sob as tears began to roll down his face. “I won’t, Li. I promise.” He hurriedly dashed away the tears, biting back a sob.
“G’night, Zayn.”
“G’night, Liam.”
Liam's breath shallowed out, and Zayn leaned over to press a kiss to his husband's lips. He'd promised 'til death do us part, and he was going to carry it through.
Zayn whispered a prayer, that tonight wouldn’t be the night Liam didn’t wake up, but it seemed God had other plans. As the night stretched out into hours like dollops of taffy, Liam's breaths slowed, until they simply didn’t happen.
A doctor came in and put her hand on Zayn's shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Malik. He's gone.”
“I know that.” Zayn said calmly, slipping the wedding band off of Liam's hand. “I’m going to need to use your phone. There are people I need to inform.”
Ruby knew when her grandda got lost in his own memories that it did no good to try to draw him out.
“Don’t cry for me.” Grandda said suddenly, looking her granddaughter in the eye. “Promise me.”
“I promise.” Grandda was grasping Ruby’s hand in an almost painful grip, and Ruby bit her lip so as not to gasp out in pain.
“Tell me more about your day,” Grandda asked softly, and Ruby complied as Grandda's grip slackened a bit, still firm enough to reassure that he was here but not so tight as to be painful.
When Ruby left, it was with a sense of finality. She knew she wasn't going to see Grandda alive again.
And she was right.
The funeral was short and to the point. Emily spoke, then Grace. Janessa was too weepy to speak much, but JD read a brief poem. Each of his grandchildren placed a rose on his casket, and then they listened as Grace led them in prayer.
Ruby pressed a kiss to Grandda's cheek before the coffin was closed and lowered into the ground, next to Liam.
She refuses to cry. Grandda hadn’t wanted it.
...
A/N: And that's it, that's the end! What did you think? xP
Summary: Sometimes, life isn't what you want it to be. But sometimes, it's perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it's going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
Part 12/13
Tell me once again who I am to you/who I am to you/tell me/lest I forget who I am to you/that I belong to you.
Liam always knew it would be him who went first. His life had been fuller, had been filled with more disasters and tragedies and that just meant his heart was going to give out sooner. The last few years of his life, he’d told Zayn over and over that he’d best get used to waking up to an empty bed, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to go first.
Zayn just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.
In retrospect, it probably made sense that Liam had passed on, because they were in their eighties, and they’d lived long, full lives, with children and grandchildren, and the occasional visit from Danielle, who never did settle down. They’d raised their family in the house Zayn had grown up in, expanding the house when necessary and selling the house Liam had grown up in to a family who ran a horse stable.
Zayn had worked there on occasion, knowing this land better than anyone alive. Their youngest daughter, Emily, had married their neighbor's son, and showed a surprising amount of horse sense. She taught classes and rode and was happier than Zayn had ever seen her before. Her children loved coming to visit him, little tykes who wreaked havoc and looked like butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. He spoiled them and watched them after school, when their parents were working.
Emily didn't let him work on the ranch anymore, not in the three years since Liam's death.
He didn’t mind. He’d put in more than seventy years here, lived on this land his whole life. He wasn’t going to leave unless it was for parts unknown with Liam by his side, and with Liam gone…well, there was nothing to die him down anymore. Besides that, he was almost ninety. That was old enough for him to appreciate spending time with his grandchildren, what little he had left.
Liam had a word, one he was particularly fond of, ya’aburnee. He’d learned it drifting in and out of Zayn’s house as a child, hearing Zayn’s mother call it after her husband. He’d made Zayn explain it to him when they were older.
Zayn vividly remembered that conversation, how he’d explained it meant “you bury me” and how Liam’s eyes had gone wide and his nose crinkled up in confusion.
“No no, it means…I hope I die before you do, because I can’t bear to live without you,” Zayn had clarified, reaching up on tiptoes to snag a bag of crisps from the top kitchen cupboard. "S'the forever kind of love."
Even then, at seven, he'd known he wanted to share that kind of forever with Liam and his big brown eyes. Even then, he'd known he was going to have his heart broken by his best friend, but that Liam would always come back in the end.
He'd been right. Liam had left, and had broken his heart when he'd come home, carrying Grace in his arms and knocking quietly at his door.
But Liam had lovingly stitched it right back together, knotting Grace in as well. And then they'd added the twins and Emily, and he'd been complete for a long time. Eighty years was plenty of time to love, and eighty-six was plenty old to die.
At least, that was what Zayn told himself. Truth was, he missed Liam. You didn't spend sixty years together, so in sync that words weren't needed without being a little codependent or a lot in love. He missed Liam in every breath, in every heartbeat.
Nowadays, his thoughts were haunted by Liam, the many years they’d spent loving each other, even before they knew what love was. He’d never forget waking up to find Liam still and unwaking, body still warm even as his blood cooled.
Liam had known, he realized down. The night before he'd been admitted to the hospital, he’d rolled over and kissed Zayn so softly, and told him I love you in a million ways, ending with ya’aburnee. Zayn had dismissed it as Liam being sentimental—he now realized it was Liam saying goodbye.
He missed Liam, sitting on the front porch and talking, how his hand fit neatly into Liam's and how Liam's laughed filled him with joy. It was painful to remember all these beautiful, wonderful things, but he also cherished the memories and the daily reminders he saw in his children.
Emily worried about him, he knew that. As if summoned by his thoughts, she emerged from the house to lean on the porch with him. Quietly, she gave him a mug of tea and sipped her own coffee. Her kids were asleep--Angelica and Jimmy, near-identical brunette balls of energy.
"Morning, Da," she said. "What're you thinking about?"
"Your Papa." Zayn drank some of his tea, too sweet and too hot for his taste. "Days like this I miss him most."
"You two were really in love, weren't you?" Emily asked. It wasn't the first time she'd brought this up--Zayn maintained that as a girl she didn't have the emotional capacity to appreciate their sweeping love story (Liam had hit him playfully when he'd first brought it up, fifteen years ago, claiming it was the other way around, that Zayn didn't understand how ordinary love was).
"We were. And I miss him," Zayn said, staring out at the brilliant pink sky, waiting for the sun to rise. "He was my best friend. Grew up right here in this house, met when we were, what, two years old? Of course he was my best friend, wasn't anyone else. And then he just...grew on me. Broke my heart when I found out he'd married Danielle, but when he brought back Gracie, I had to forgive him. It was just something we had to go through. But I keep waking up in the morning, expecting him to be right there. You'd think three years would be long enough, but not really. Not when there were sixty odd years where whenever I'd wake up, he'd be there. I miss the dinners he'd make, and how he'd try to dance but always failed. I miss him."
Emily, the spitting image of Liam--if he were female--hugged her Da.
"There's an elderly singles club in town," she suggested. "They get together and play Mario Kart and chess and sometimes dance dance revolution, although they might have stopped once Louis Tomlinson put out his hip."
They both winced, knowing even that wouldn't stop Louis from doing it again.
"I don't need anyone but my family, Em." Zayn's voice was calm and soothing, what his children called his reasonable-parent voice. Emily blushed, feeling like a little kid who'd been caught meddling where she didn't belong again. "And Louis has never had his head on straight. He went more bonkers after his husband died."
Emily sighed. "You miss Harry too?"
"Mm. Funny, funny guy, although I never did understand the tunafish prank. It's just that everyone's dying. Makes an old guy feel lonely."
"Uncle Ni's still around," Emily countered. "And so's Aunt Danielle."
"Aunt Danielle is just as bonkers as Louis Tomlinson. And don't even get me started on Horan."
"You like him, Da, stop pretending you don't. He was your best friend, after Dad." It was true--all throughout Emily's childhood, Niall had been in and out of the house, usually to raid their fridge or crash on their couch when Cher decided to punish him. He'd spoiled all of the Payne-Malik kids rotten, despite having six of his own, and twelve grandchildren besides. As Zayn's work partner, it was inevitable that their lives wouldn't merge together, and it became even more inevitable when JD fell in love with Niall's youngest daughter, Annabelle.
"I don't have to admit it." Zayn ruffled through his jacket pockets to find his packet of cigarettes, and when he came up empty, he glared at his youngest daughter. "Emily Ann Payne Malik Smith, where did you put my cigarettes?"
She looked at him innocently. "I haven't the slightest clue what you mean."
"Emily!"
"Smoking's bad for you, Da."
"It hasn't killed me yet," he groused, taking another sip of tea. "Don't deny an old man his small pleasures."
She pouted and fished the packet from her own pocket. "I hate it when you play that card."
"I hate it when you steal my cigarettes," he countered. He lit one and took a deep drag, feeling the warm smoke curl inside his lungs against the cool morning air. "If they're going to kill me, they're taking their sweet time doing it."
"Da!"
"I'm not going to go off myself," he grumbled. "Jesus Christ, Em. Li made me promise I wouldn't."
"Well, Janessa said she would be over at noon," Emily said, wisely changing the subject. "She's bringing Uncle Niall--stop frowning, you two get on like a house on fire, stop pretending you don't--and her husband and the kids. JD--or actually Annabelle--said they'd be over at 12:30. And Grace is coming at one." She elbowed her dad. "We'll all be here for your birthday."
Zayn nodded, but didn't tell her he thought it was going to be one of his last with his family. He was tired, and Liam was calling him home.
Summary: Sometimes, life isn't what you want it to be. But sometimes, it's perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it's going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
Part 11/13
"We're old," Zayn groaned, looking at his greying hair in the mirror. "We're old farts, make it stop, Liam!"
"Oh, hush you," Liam teased, tightening his tie. "You're not that old. You're only 58. Stop whining.”
A quiet knock sounded at their hotel room door. Liam kissed Zayn and crossed the room to open it, revealing Grace, her daughter Maisie balanced on her hip. “Dad, Da, you ready to go? Em’ll kill us if we’re late.”
Zayn emerged from the bathroom, his tie still undone. “Liam, help.”
Liam chuckled and knotted his husband’s tie while Grace rolled her eyes at her dads. “Dorks, both of you. Janessa and JD are already there. We’re going to be late.”
“Keep your pants on, Miss Grace,” Liam scolded. Zayn took Maisie from her mother’s arms.
“Hi, Maisie,” he crooned. “We’re going to go see your Aunt Emily graduate. Bet you wish your brothers were here.”
“I don’t,” Grace said tartly. “How you managed the four of us is beyond me. I’ve only got three, and they’re little monsters. Except for Maisie, of course.”
She led her dads down the hall, and they spent a quiet car ride to Emily’s university in near silence, the only noise Maisie’s happy babbling.
After the ceremony, Emily met up with them for dinner, and they were all together for the first time since Christmas. Janessa and JD teased their little sister mercilessly about how she’d tripped on stage. Grace, with Maisie napping in her lap, defended her sister and reminisced with embarrassing tales about all three of her younger sibling’s childhoods.
Liam laced his fingers with Zayn’s under the table, watching their children with amusement and love.
“Can’t believe you’re all grown up,” Zayn said, slightly misty-eyed.
“Daaaaa,” Janessa and JD groaned together, still in sync even though they currently lived several hundred miles apart. “Not again with the old thing.”
“Yes, please, not again with the old thing,” Liam said. His eyes were twinkling with mischief, not unlike his eldest daughter’s. “Your father here was getting all teary over you all being grownups. And he had a right panic this morning about his grey hair.”
Zayn glared at Liam while their children giggled. “I thought we agreed not to mention it.”
“I think it makes you look dignified,” Grace said diplomatically, reassuring her Da and shooting a discreet warning glare at her sisters, who immediately shut up. “And you’re not that old.”
“Well, Em-bug’s all graduated now!” Janessa changed the subject, and suddenly everyone was teasing Emily goodnaturedly.
“Well, I remember when you came home from the hospital,” Grace said, bopping her younger sister on the nose. “I was fifteen and you were this wrinkly little thing. The twins were four then, and you just cried, all the time. Dad said he’d never seen such a fussy baby.”
Emily turned to stare at her biological father. “You did not!”
“It wasn’t me!” Liam defended.
“Me either!” Zayn countered.
“Well then, who said it?” Emily demanded. “I haven’t got three Dads, I’ve just got Dad and Da. And Danielle,” she added belatedly. "But she's not a Dad. She's a Step-mum." She paused. "Wait. Is she my step mum if she was married to Dad before and then Dad divorced her?"
Everyone at the table froze while they thought. "I don't think so," JD said finally, trailing off. "Google it?"
Liam laughed, drawing everyone's attention. "I actually know the answer to this. I know, weird that Dad actually knows something, right?" All four kids laughed--they'd learned early on that Da was the one to ask with for school help because Dad got everything confused. Zayn smiled indulgently at his husband. "Zayn is Grace's stepdad because he's the man I married after I divorced her mom. Danielle isn't your stepmom because I didn't marry her after Zayn--she hasn't got an actual title, not legally at least. Go ahead, look it up, but I'm right."
Janessa actually took her phone out and looked it up. When it turned out Liam was right, he gloated for the rest of dinner.
That night, as they were preparing for bed, Liam looked over to Zayn. “We did pretty alright with them, didn’t we?”
“Well, none of them came out too terribly mentally scarred,” Zayn quipped. “Well. JD might have been a little damaged, with three sisters, but it wasn’t too bad.”
"And we managed the sex talk alright, for being two grown men with daughters," Liam added. "I'm proud of that."
"We managed, and we got them through," Zayn agreed.
In the next few years, they would deal with another wedding (Janessa) and a pregnancy scare with JD’s girlfriend. Emily would move back in with them and then move out, and Grace would endure a long, drawn out divorce.
But overall, they were happy and life seemed to have worked out for the best.
Summary: Sometimes, life isn't what you want it to be. But sometimes, it's perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it's going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
Part 10/13
Zayn stood back while Grace danced with her biological father, sending a suspicious glare in her new husband’s direction. He actually liked the kid, and he supposed he could drop his intimidating act now that they were actually married and he didn’t have to worry about some random boy knocking up his eldest daughter.
He didn't particularly want to. Grace, as old and worldly as she thought she was at twenty-four, still didn't know everything and he couldn't help but want to protect her from everything
Speaking of his younger children, he looked over to see thirteen-year-old Janessa watching Grace with stars in her eyes, obviously daydreaming about her own wedding. Her twin JD was busy flirting with Grace’s husband’s brother’s daughter. Zayn made a mental note to discourage that. None of his children would be dating until they were at least twenty. Hell, they’d barely let Mitchell into the house, and only after a lengthy interrogation about his motives. And then little Emily, little nine year old Emily, was delicately eating her slice of cake.
As the song finished with a quiet flourish, Grace held her hand out to Zayn, and gestured for him.
“You sure, sweetheart? You’ve already got one father-daughter dance.”
“You’re my dad too, Da,” Grace said quietly, and pulled him out to the center of the dance floor. “I don’t ever remember you not being my dad.”
Zayn kissed her forehead, remembered the first time Grace ever called him Da. It’s one of his most treasured memories, little Grace asking him to teach her to dance for a tea party when she was five, and calling him Da as she stood on his feet and whirled around the room.
“I was only doing what I was supposed to,” Zayn said, smiling as her eyes light up, clearly remembering exactly the same thing. “And it was my pleasure to teach you.”
“And, you’re the one who taught me to dance for prom, when Daddy was busy with Emily and the twins,” Grace added. “So, see? You’re my dad, just like Liam’s my dad.”
Zayn smiled and spun her around, singing along softly to the song. When it finished, he walked her over to Mitchell. Rather than smiling fiercely (he’d been told several times that it was creepy and he should stop scaring the poor boy like that by his loving husband), he patted Mitchell on the shoulder and hugged him.
“Welcome to the family,” he whispered, before passing him off to Grace, who looked suspicious.
Zayn retreated to the wall where his husband lingered, and watched as their daughter danced her first dance with her husband.
“I’m still not sure if I approve,” Zayn grumbled, and Liam shushed him. “Of her growing up, that is. Mitchell’s pretty alright.”
Liam wrapped an arm around his waist, and kissed him softly. “He’s perfect for her. Now shush. I’m imagining my grandchildren.”
Zayn’s laugh was full, rich and deep, and it was exactly what Liam wanted to hear.
Summary: Sometimes, life isn't what you want it to be. But sometimes, it's perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it's going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
Part 9/13
There was never a truly horrible day in the Payne-Malik household. Usually there was some sort of redeeming factor, something to making it a bit more bearable. There had never been a day where that hadn't happened.
Today was rapidly approaching the first day in Payne-Malik history to break that rule of thumb.
"Janessa, JD, if you're not in the car in the next five minutes so help me god we will leave you behind!" he yelled. "Grace, where's Emily?"
Immediately, Janessa and JD were down the stairs, backpacks in hand. At seven, they were very attached to their dads, and even the slightest threat of being left behind got them moving. Not that Liam would ever actually leave them behind.
"You know that threat doesn't work on me, right?" Grace said in amusement as she sauntered into the kitchen, Emily toddling behind her. The younger girl was sucking her thumb. "I'm eighteen."
"No, but I can threaten to take your phone," Liam said seriously. "In the car, Grace. And--have you seen your Da anywhere?"
"Putting bags in the car," Grace supplied helpfully and toted Emily off to the car.
Liam checked the downstairs rooms to ensure all lights were off and was double checking the kitchen for any stray toys one of the twins might have forgotten. Warm arms suddenly wrapped around his waist. "Calm down, love. You're overthinking."
"Why did we think it would be a good idea to take two seven year olds, a three year old and Grace to the seashore? How is this trip not going to end in blood and tears?"
"We're going because we love our children and Grace wanted this for her birthday," Zayn said calmly, rubbing small circles into Liam's hip. "And I'll stop you if you get the urge to go serial-killer on our children. Although I'd prefer you didn't, because I am not dealing with the twins' teenager phase alone." Zayn kissed the side of Liam's neck, as if to show he was kidding--not that Liam needed the reassurance. "I put all the bags in the car, we should be all set. Have you checked the upstairs?"
"Checked the upstairs, the downstairs, made sure the dog was safe over at the neighbor's, with a list of care instructions, left emergency contact numbers with the neighbors and my mum, called your sisters and then my sisters, double checked that the kids packed what they needed and made sure we had a binkie for Emily if she gets too panicked without it," Liam recited.
"So we're all ready to go, then?" Zayn said slowly. Liam nodded. "All right then. You'll be glad once we're there, love."
Zayn was right, Liam thought later. It hadn't been too much of a nightmare, although he could have done without Emily's temper tantrum on the train or Janessa's pout once she realized they'd forgotten her stuffed toy rabbit or JD's funk in a show of loyalty to his sister. And Zayn temporarily misplacing the tickets, that he could have gone without.
"You're my favorite," he informed an amused Grace. "You don't cry, you pack your own belongings and I don't have to bribe you to get you to behave."
Fifteen meters away, Zayn was helping Emily build a drip castle and keeping an eye on the twins, who were looking for shells to decorate Emily's castle. Liam was struck by how little Zayn had changed in the past decade and a half, especially at how much Emily looked like Grace had as a little girl. Zayn looked up then and met Liam's eyes. He winked, sending Liam into a fit of giggles. Grace laughed along.
"I'll watch the littles so you and Da can have a date night," she offered.
"I thought you were here to scope out cute boys," Liam teased. Grace immediately went red. "Or do you really have it that bad for Mitchell?"
"Well, yes. But you and Da have been really busy since Emily was born, and I figured you'd like some alone time." There was a content silence in their area of the beach while JD chased Janessa with a bucket of water and Emily happily patted the sides of her castle.
"Are you happier with Da than you were with Mum?" Grace asked softly, drawing her knees up to her chest.
Liam considered the question. "They both made me happy. But in different ways. Danielle was like fireworks--bright and brilliant and I couldn't help but be drawn to her. You had to notice her--she was so special. But fireworks are only beautiful for so long, and they get boring. Zayn's like...Zayn's like the sun. He's warm, and he lights up my life. He's always been there, and he'll always be there. I couldn't live without him, and even when I was with Danielle, he was there, lighting my life. He's steady, and I love him. You can't compare them, they're so different. But...I'm glad it's Zayn I'm spending my forever with."
Grace nodded. "I think Mitchell might be my Danielle," she whispered.
Liam sat up. "You had better not be getting pregnant or married before you're thirty, young lady," he said sternly, shaking a finger at her. Grace giggled and shook her head.
"Not gonna happen, Dad. I want to go to college and have a career."
Just then, the twins came running up with a hermit crab to show them, and Liam had to make appropriately impressed noises, and by that time Emily was done with her castle and Zayn carried her over, and the Payne-Maliks just ended up in a tangle of limbs with Grace shrieking about how there was a live hermit crab somewhere in their pile
Liam didn't think he'd ever been happier in his life.
"So. Glad you came?" Zayn whispered in his ear, humming the opening bars to that infuriating song.
Summary: Sometimes, life isn't what you want it to be. But sometimes, it's perfectly copacetic. And sometimes, copacetic lets you down. Ziam.
A/N: A belated birthday present for the beautiful, wonderful Taylor! (thecrystalcaves) It’s managed to turn into a 10K+ monster, so it's going to be posted in each part, a new part every day for the next two weeks. Many, many thanks to dulctesque for giving massive, massive creative feedback. :)
Part 8/13
When Zayn and Liam finally had their first child together, by a surrogate, Grace was eleven years old. Zayn had insisted that Grace was as much his as Liam’s, and he was perfectly happy raising her alongside Liam.
Danielle had stopped by only twice in the past eight years, spending barely any time with any of them before flitting off into who-knew-where. Presents and letters arrived on intervals, at Christmas and on birthdays and the odd letter in the middle of September for no reason at all.
When she'd visited the first time, she had dragged Zayn off to "get to know my replacement," as she put it. When they returned, Zayn was blushing and Danielle had kissed Liam on the cheek.
"I approve," she whispered. "I know my opinion doesn't count for much, but he's absolutely perfect for you."
Then, she'd kissed Grace on the forehead and swept out the door without so much as a backwards glance.
Zayn hadn't minded filling in for Danielle--after all, he'd married Liam, and Danielle had divorced him and left, and Grace had needed another parental figure, so stepping in had been natural. Of course, Grace didn't quite understand the difference between her Ma and her Da, both of whom she thought could have babies because they'd married Daddy.
It had been quite an awkward conversation explaining that babies had to come from women and Zayn was very much not a woman. It took even longer to explain that they were going to have a baby through a surrogate.
But it was worth it, when, on September 14th, the Payne-Maliks got a phone call that Samantha Adams was going into labor, bringing their twin children into the world.
Liam stayed home with Grace while Zayn went to the hospital--because Zayn was the biological father, he was allowed in the birthing room, but because Liam was only a step-parent, he wasn't allowed. Instead, he took Grace out for ice cream and was waiting anxiously outside the hospital when Zayn came outside to tell him the twins were safely birthed.
Coming home three days later was an adventure--but even more interesting was Grace's reaction to the new siblings she'd begged so much for.
"Grace, could you help your Dad warm up some milk for the babies?"
"No."
Zayn frowned, looking up. "Grace, don't pull that tone on me. I am your father and--"
"You're not my father!" Grace screamed at him. Zayn felt like he'd been punched in the gut--he'd raised her alongside Liam, and that hurt, hearing her claim he wasn't her father. In the silence following her furious statement, she marched upstairs. The slam her door made echoed through the house.
Liam frowned, and carefully set JD down in the playpen. "I'll go talk to her."
Zayn shook his head, rubbing at his forehead wearily. "I should go do that. Figure out what she has against me."
As he started down the hall towards Grace's room, Liam grabbed him by the elbow and stopped him. "You know she doesn't mean that, right? She loves you."
Zayn tried to smile. "I know. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." Liam let him go, and Zayn proceeded up the stairs to Grace's room.
He knocked at her door. "Grace? Can I come in?"
There was no reply, so he pushed the door open and stepped into the purple lair that Grace called her room. "Grace Payne, what is going on with you?"
Zayn sat on the edge of Grace's bed. He reached out and rubbed small circles into her back. "Grace, hey. You want to tell me what that blowup downstairs was all about?"
"You're not my dad," she mumbled into her pillow. "Danielle's my mum, you're not my dad."
"Is this because I'm a man, and Danielle was a woman?"
She sniffled. "You're not my dad. You're the guy my dad married."
"So it's not because I'm a guy? It's because I'm not biologically related to you?"
Grace nodded, rolling over to face the wall. "You shouldn't get to tell me what to do."
"Grace, I have been there with you since you were three years old. That's eight years, love. I took you to your first day of school and kissed your boo-boos. I help you with your math homework--god knows your Dad's no good at it--and we make pancakes every Sunday morning. You are every bit my daughter, as much as Janessa is."
For whatever reason, that made Grace cry harder.
"Grace? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."
"You and Daddy aren't going to love me anymore!"
Zayn's forehead furrowed. "Of course we love you, Grace! You're our big girl, of course we love you."
"But you've got the babies now!"
"That's not going to change anything, Gracie-girl. We still love you."
"But Janessa and JD are yours, and I'm not!"
Understanding dawned on Zayn's face. "You think because Janessa and JD were born, that I'm going to forget all about you. Oh, no, Grace. Of course I won't. You're my daughter too. Just because I'm not biologically related to you doesn't mean I'm not your Da. Your Dad and I will still have time for you, I promise. Janessa and JD are just additions to our family, okay? There's just five of us now, not three." He stroked her back until she sat up and crawled into his lap, despite growing too large to fit easily years before. "I love you, Gracie-girl, my little ladybug. You're still my big girl, and it doesn't matter to me that you're not my blood daughter, 'cos you're my daughter just the same. Nothing's going to change that, not Janessa, not JD, and not anyone. You're my girl, yeah? My special girl."
He kissed her forehead and she nodded into his chest, sniffles and tears petering out.
"You wanna go meet your brother and sister now?" Zayn suggested once she was all done and he'd carefully wiped off her cheeks and blew her nose with a tissue. "You're eleven, old enough to hold them."
Grace smiled, and followed Zayn down the hall.
"Everything all better now?" Liam asked, cradling the still-whimpering Janessa in his arms. Grace nodded, her thumb tucked into her lip as she hid behind Zayn. "Gracie, don't suck your thumb. Remember what Dr Sullivan said about braces?" She nodded, and pulled her thumb out of her mouth. "Do you want to come meet your brother and sister?"
Grace nodded, and came forward to see Janessa, finally calming her cries of distress as the elder girl crept forward.
While Grace clearly took after Liam, with his sandy hair and pale skin, the twins both took after Zayn, with darker tinted skin and black hair. Zayn's heart swelled as Liam carefully transferred Janessa to Grace's arms.
"She's so pretty," Grace whispered.
"We'll see if you still think that in three weeks, when her cries are keeping you up at night," Liam said, rubbing his eyes. "You were a nightmare, Grace. Colic, and you were fussy to boot."
Zayn shrugged and wrapped an arm around Liam's shoulders. "We'll take it as it comes. What do you think of your new sister, Grace?"
Grace looked up solemnly, but then broke out into a grin. "I like her!" Janessa cooed happily, smiling up at her sister. "Can I meet JD?"
"JD's sleeping right now," Liam explained. "You can meet him later."
Zayn smiled at his husband and his daughters, very proud and happy of how their little family was coming together, some of his and some of Liam's, and all theirs.
See that's too short, though! What can possibly happen in fifteen minutes? You need to have lengthy, complex plots that take a while to happen.
;a;kljadfjkl;ds
I HAVE NO ATTENTION SPAN
I legit have never managed to read any of the challenges straight through. I switch between novels during the day because I legit cannot focus on anything for longer than ten minutes. That's why all my stories have so many plots, because I write them in disjointed chunks and stitch them together later. I have no attention span.
