You woke up to an empty bed and a silent house. After a year of waking up to baby crying, it was pleasant, but you needed to know the cause of the quiet. You stepped out of the bedroom and padded to the nursery, standing in the doorway.

Lip was standing by Freddie’s crib, holding the baby boy in his arms. Freddie was wide awake, his tiny hands grabbing at Lip’s shirt, but was very calm, staring up at his dad with those big, curious eyes.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, little man,” Lip hummed, bouncing him gently, voice filled with a warmth that was only for your son. “You’re like your mama and me, huh? Can't sit still?"

Lip looked so natural holding Freddie, like this was always meant to be his role. There’s a peace about him now that wasn’t there before, a steadiness that came with fatherhood.

Lip glanced up and caught you watching him. “Hey,” he whispered, lips curving into a smile. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head, stepping into the room and crossing over to them. You watched him hold your son for a moment longer before you softly said "You’re a really good dad, Lip.”

Lip looked over at you, looking overwhelmed by the reassurance. But it quickly turned into a brilliant smile as he tipped his head to kiss you softly. His words were murmured sleepily against your lips, his soft blue eyes watching you adoringly. "....You make it easy."