The sun is hot over the marina, the smell of salt and gasoline in the air as boats drift lazily in and out of the slips. Y/N Y/LN balances their daughter on her hip, adjusting the little sunhat that keeps slipping sideways, while Rafe trails a step behind with the diaper bag slung across his shoulder. He looks out of place: broad shoulders tense, jaw set tight, eyes darting like he’s expecting a fight around every corner.

People stare. Of course they do. Rafe Cameron, Kook prince of Figure Eight, carrying bottles and pacifiers like he doesn’t know how to hold them. Y/N feels the weight of it too, the whispers and the looks, but she tries to keep her smile steady as she kisses the baby’s forehead.

When an older woman pauses by the dock to coo at their daughter, Y/N thanks her politely. But Rafe bristles instantly, stepping in too close. “Yeah, she’s cute. Keep walking.”

“Rafe,” Y/N hisses under her breath, swatting at his arm. “She was being nice.”

“She was staring,” he mutters, shifting the strap of the bag higher on his shoulder. His gaze flicks back to Y/N and softens only slightly. “I don’t like people looking at you. At her. Like we’re some freak show.”

Y/N exhales, rocking their daughter gently as she looks up at him. There’s a tiredness in her eyes, but also something softer, steadier. “They don’t matter. She matters. We matter.”

For a second, Rafe just stands there, tense and restless, before finally reaching out. He takes the baby from her arms, holding her awkwardly but carefully, staring down like she’s the only person who exists. The hard lines of his face ease.

“She’s not a freak show,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “She’s perfect.”

Y/N smiles faintly, brushing a hand over his arm. “So quit acting like the world’s out to get us every second. Just… be here with her.”

Rafe nods, though his jaw still works like he’s chewing on the urge to snap. But when the baby grips his shirt in her tiny fist, the fight drains out of him. He leans down, pressing a clumsy kiss to the top of her head, and for once, Rafe Cameron looks less like a storm and more like a boy trying to hold his family together with both hands.