So far, Campbell was pretty sure she got this single mom thing down. She had basically all the money to give Harper and had just gotten used to changing her and feeding her. She didn’t need a man to help her. Sure, it’s nice to have Vic around to babysit the girls but she could do this all by herself. Her and Harper against the world. Considering what happened to her father, this is what was best. Not that she would ever introduce Harper to some man in her life.
And right now, she was doing just fine by herself. Right now she was getting ready upstairs in the house she had with Harper, for infiltrating one of the banquets her and the omegas were planning on taking from. See she was a single mother and still running the omegas like a badass. She got one of the rookies in the group to look after Harper while they did their things fthe night. And right now Harper was downstairs in her playpen while Campbell finished getting ready.
She could hear Harper getting antsy downstairs, something babies like her always did, no big deal. And she was teaching Harper the abandonment method, where if she didn’t reply to a child’s cries, they would stop crying. Eventually, she did stop, much to her own amusement. Campbell smiled to herself, as she finished getting ready.
When she was done, she hadn’t heard Harper whine in a little bit, she just figured that Harper was asleep because she was the best mom in the world. Campbell made her way quietly down the stairs, because she knew Harper would be the devil spawn that she was when she was woken up from her naps. But when she got to her playpen, Harper wasn’t in there.
Instead, there stood a man. One with his back turned to her, as he had been cradling something. But one thing was for sure, a wave of anxiety and panic instantly rushed over Campbell, causing her to reach for her gun under her dress. She couldn’t lose Harper. She had already lost one Armstrong and there was no way she was going to lose her own this time.
“Put. Her. Down.” She demanded, pointing the gun to the back of his head. “If you hurt one hair on her head, I will fire twelve fucking warning shots into your head. Now put her down.” This time, she held the barrel straight behind his head. As he turned around, Campbell was ready to blow out his brains right there and then.
But then she saw his face.
No matter how long a year has been, no matter how much his face changed, Campbell could tell that Sawyer Armstrong was standing right in front of her, holding her daughter, which happened to be his daughter too. “Sawyer …” she said almost immediately, lowering the gun. She was in a state of shock, not really knowing what to do. Sure she had her weird dreams that he would one day come back and him holding his kid while she was pregnant, but she never really believed she would ever see this day coming. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she had already cried too many tears last year when she thought he was dead, even though there was the small voice in the back of her head that told her he pulled some shit and he was still alive. And low and behold, it was right.
Harper started crying once again, which brought her back to reality, that she was still in the arms of a stranger. Putting the gun back in place, she walked up and took her away from Sawyer. “Shhh, it’s okay Harper.” Campbell soothed, eventually putting her back into the playpen once she calmed down again.
She turned around, hoping that he just wouldn’t be there, that it was all in her head and it just wasn’t him. But there he was. Standing there still alive. At this point she had no more tears to cry for him, or at least in front of him. Dead or Alive, she would do everything in her power to never let him see her cry. At this point, she had no words to say either.
All the emotion she could muster up lead to a clean hard slap right across his face. Slapping him wasn’t hard to do, but managing not to cry while doing it was.
“Get out.” She managed to say, grabbing her gun and pointing it at him. “You wanted to play dead? You should’ve stayed that way.” She barked at him, her voice couldn’t help but crack. But she stayed strong. “And I don’t care if she’s your blood. If you ever come here and touch her again, you won’t have to fake your death again.”
Faking his death was an easy choice. Taking himself out of the picture, and running away from any and all consequences of his actions was the epitome of a typical Sawyer Armstrong move. Yes, it was taking the easy way out, but would he really be him if he didn’t? He had numerous plans on how he would fake his death because let’s be honest, this wasn’t the first time that he’s pissed off someone enough to need a “permanent” way out. This just happened to be the first time that it really came down to it. Now the hard part would be finding the right opportunity to make it happen.
But as it turned out, finding said opportunity wasn’t so hard after all. Did he have a minor hand in sabotaging their job so that his plan would work? Yes. Did he uncharacteristically volunteer himself up to be the distraction while everyone else escaped? Also yes. And did everyone fall for it, no questions asked? Hook, line and sinker, yes. Everything went according to his plan, right up to the point where the yacht that he was on exploded and his body was conveniently lost in the depths of the ocean. As far as everyone knew, that was the end of Sawyer Armstrong.
The year that followed was more difficult than he cared to admit. Sawyer had always put up a front, and maybe there was some truth to it, that he was a lone wolf type. He never needed anyone and he damn sure made it easy for no one to need him. All he ever needed and all that he could trust was himself. And yet, somehow somewhere along the way, things started to change. He stopped pushing his family away and strangely enough, the Omegas slowly became a part of that too. But none of that mattered now. His disappearance was the simplest solution for everyone and he knew that they would all be fine without him. He wouldn’t have gone through with his plan if he didn’t think that they could handle it. ...Okay, that was a lie because he would have done it either way. But he knew that they were all going to be okay. Even if he was never coming back.
Sawyer knew that Ramona would be the one to take his “death” the hardest, but he also knew that over time, she would get over it eventually. Then there was Reid. Everyone always said how alike they were, but he knew that his kid brother was a better man than he could ever be and in a strange way, he was proud of him. Even if he did drag someone like Jesus Freak Audrey into their lives. And in an even stranger way, Sawyer was grateful for that because as long as Reid had Audrey, he would be okay. And Vic. With his own family now and Rahab taking care of him, he knew that his best friend would be more than okay.
And finally, Campbell. Chicken noodle. Minestrone. Tomato soup. Campbell. She was the least of Sawyer’s worries because if anyone was going to be fine and take his death as just another day on the job, it would be Campbell. In fact, he couldn’t help but think that she would be more than fine, especially now that she could officially takeover the Omegas and take everything that was legally in his name as well. And yet... he still found letting her go to be the hardest part of all this.
Maybe that was why when Sawyer caught wind of some news of her that he so easily made the decision to go back and see if it was true for himself. He could have hired a PI, but he just knew that he had to see it for himself. The timing of everything was too big of a coincidence for him to pretend not to care and to continue acting like he was moving on with his life. None of this meant that he would be back for good, if at all. He told himself that he just needed to see her once with his own eyes and that would be it. He would be gone again like he had never returned in the first place. But now that he stood in front of the playpen, staring down at that crying baby... He wasn’t so sure anymore. Because... what if...?
Crouching down in front of the playpen, Sawyer peered down at the baby, trying to look for some kind of resemblance. Without a doubt, she was Campbell’s kid. If not for the pissy attitude, then definitely the big brown eyes. It was easy to see that she had her mother’s eyes. As for whether or not this screaming Satan baby was his, he wasn’t so sure. The timing of it all seemed to make sense, but it could also all just be a coincidence. Straightening up, Sawyer continued to wonder if it was at all possible that the baby was his. As the screaming and crying continued, he leaned down to pick her up, muttering under his breath, “You sure got your mom’s temper, Mini Bisque. Now the question is, are you -” Almost immediately, the crying stopped. As if she had answered his question. Was he crazy for thinking that?
Holding the baby up to his eye level, he asked, “So. You an Armstrong, or am I holding some other dipshit’s spawn?” All he got in response was some saliva bubbles. Figures. Cradling the baby in one arm, he looked around the room before spotting something that resembled a towel to wipe off her face. As snotty and cute as she looked in his arms, Sawyer couldn’t shake how strange this feeling was, and he couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad feeling.
Could he walk away and pretend like this never happened? Hell, his own dad walked out on him, and that was knowing full well that he was his son. He wasn’t even sure if this was his kid, so how hard could it be to just leave and forget about this whole thing? Never in his life did he ever picture himself as a father, so how was this going to change that? Yet looking down at her, the answer was simple. He had to at least find out the truth.
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn’t heard the steps behind him until it was too late. Hearing the all too familiar voice that he thought he’d never hear again, he replied, “It’s not a warning shot if you already killed me.” Feeling the barrel pressed up to the back of his head, Sawyer couldn’t help but smirk at the situation. How many times have they been in this exact same position? Too many to count. He had to admit that the familiarity of it all felt... nice.
Turning around, he opened his mouth to say some kind of retort to her threat, but the second his eyes landed on her, no words came out. Seeing her standing in front of him, a wave of emotions and feelings that he’d fought to ignore and avoid at all costs came rushing back in. He missed having her around and just everything about her this past year, but seeing her now, he realized just how much.
It was only when the crying started up again that they snapped out of... whatever that was. Handing the baby to Campbell, Sawyer watched as she calmed her down with ease. An overwhelmingly strange feeling overcame him again, yet he couldn’t explain what it was. As she turned back to face him, he began to say, “Campbell -,” only to be slapped across the face. If he was being honest, he had expected worse from her, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. Feeling the sting from the slap, Sawyer couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as she threatened him again. Just like old times. Ignoring her warning, he crouched down in front of the playpen again. “One shot will blow out her eardrums, you know. Might want to rethink your murder plan,” he replied.
“If she’s my blood, huh?” he asked. Looking down at mini Campbell, Sawyer held out his finger for her to grasp, as he smirked, “What do you say, Mini Satan? Why don’t we find out if you’re an Armstrong?” Turning his head to Campbell, he straightened up, and did something he never thought he’d ever do or have the chance to. Taking a step towards her, he pushed down her arm that held the gun and just pulled her into a hug. “This is nice,” he sighed, resting his chin on her head, then adding softly, “I missed you too, Chicken Noodle.”