Marcus's P.O.V.
I was sitting alone at home with my new week-old son. Right now, the guys and I are on hiatus, and Carey and I accidentally had baby. I shouldn't really call our son an accident, though because I love him to death. He's just more of a surprise.
I looked down at my little bundle of joy as I rocked him to sleep in the rocking chair. He loves it when I sing Timshel to him. It's nice to have some alone time with my son for the first time ever. I sat back and remembered my deal I made with Carey.
~~~~Flashback~~~~
"Carey, don't worry! I'll take good care of Brighton! I need some time to bond with our son before I go back on tour, and you need a break from taking care of him constantly," I said, taking our child from her arms. His big brown eyes looked up at me, and I couldn't help but to smile at my precious son.
"Oh, alright. Are you sure you can take care of him for the weekend?" she asked with pure concern in her eyes.
"I'm positive, now go or else you'll be late!" I said, shooing her out of the door.
~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~
I looked down at my now sleeping son.
"I love you, Brighton," I whispered, placing a small kiss on his forehead. i walked over to his crib and gently placed him inside. I turned on the baby monitor and very quietly closed the door. I smiled to myself, thinking about what a precious gift I've been given.
I walked downstairs in search of something to preoccupy myself with. Well, I guess Tumblr it is. I got on the computer and logged into my account. Yes, I am praise-the-mayo. No one knows it's really me though. Ah, I love mayo. If I had to choose between Carey and mayo, I think I'd cone into a real problem.
I chuckled at my obsession with mayo. My Mumfamily stalking session was cut short by a knock at the door. I got up out of my chair, wondering who could be here at this ungodly hour.
I opened the door to be met face-to-face with a constable.
"Good evening sir. Are you Marcus Mumford?" he said as Brighton began crying.
"Um, yeah. Come inside, I need to go get my son," I said rushing upstairs to tend to my frantic son. I picked him up and took him downstairs with me. He always seems to stop crying when I hold him.
I walked downstairs and sat on the couch while the officer sat in the chair. The officer drew a deep breath. He looked very distressed, like he dreaded being here.
"So, you're the the husband of Carey Mulligan?" he asked. I hated how people didn't call her Carey Mumford, but Mulligan was her stage name, so everyone knew it.
"Yeah. Why?" I asked now very skeptical.
"Well, Mr. Mumford, I hate to tell you this, but Carey was... in a fatal accident. She didn't even make it to the hospital," he said, a tear slipping from his grasp. My jaw dropped. I didn't want to believe a word he said.
"N-n-no... Th-that's impossible!" I yelled, upsetting Brighton.
"I'm sorry sir. I'll be leaving now," he said, standing up and leaving. Now alone with my son, I hugged him tight and began crying. How am I going to be a single father? What am I going to do without Carey? I sobbed more and more, unable to stop. I looked down at Brighton's tear-stained face. It really resembled mine.
"Well, it's just you and me now, buddy. Mama-" I couldn't quite finish that sentence as I choked on another sob. My poor son, left without a mother.
