You're In Awfully Early {Septiplier}

Just too Anxious

Cry snickers, shaking his head. "I don't think so. I never go to PAX."

"I'm calling in a favor," Ken grumbles. "Do you know how many times I've called pretending to be your ex boyfriend when your dates aren't going well? You owe me."

"In my defense," the brunette chuckles, pausing his recording, "sometimes the only way to get through to these people is by implying I have a big, scary ex who will beat them up."

"And I would beat anyone up for your fake honor," Ken assures. "Now, I need you to help me out. Come on, Cry. You can fly into LA, and we can spend an entire weekend together. Just like old times."

"Why, exactly, are you going to PAX?" the brunette asks, his brown eyebrow disappearing beneath his bangs. "I thought you swore to never step foot in another American convention after, ya know, what happened."

"I've been forced against my will," Ken grumbles. "Mark pulled a trump card. He's proposing to Jack at PAX, and he wants everyone there."

"That explains the party," Cry hums, blue eyes drifting to his bulletin board. An invitation to Mark and Jack's anniversary party is pinned beside a glossy one to Felix's wedding.

"Which you were obviously planning on attending, of course."

"I was hoping to just send a gift and my regards," he admits. "It's a bit of a pain to fly in for only one day. Plus, I'd have to find a cat sitter."

"You have a sister."

"Who's daughter is allergic to cats," he counters easily. "I know there's still some bad blood between you and Jack, but it seems he's letting bygones be bygones."

"I'm not worried about Jack," Ken sighs. "Felix is going to be there."

"That shouldn't be too much-"

"And we're staying across from each other at Mark and Jack's house."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Cry clicks through his calendar, frowning at the spread of events he has planned for this weekend on top of his recording schedule. He gives a hum, mentally moving as many events as he can. Yet, he still hits plenty of snags.

"Earliest I could fly in is Monday morning."

"You have to be able to do better than that," Ken groans. "I'm flying in Wednesday. Wednesday! That's too many days of getting paired with Felix. I need you there to keep everyone sane."

"Maybe I could push it to Sunday night. I'm sorry, Ken. That's the best I can do."

The raven sighs, pressing a finger into his temple. "What the hell am I supposed to do? Five days with Felix? Something is bound to go wrong."

"Do you still have feelings for-"

"No," Ken interrupts, firm. "I never did, Cry. Whatever we had, that wasn't about feelings. I don't know what that mess was about."

"It's been a long time," Cry offers slowly, the tone already implying a speech Ken does not want to hear. "Thinks are different now. And you know Felix can't hold a grudge. I'm sure he's ready to be friends again. Well, just friends this time."

Ken chuckles humorlessly. "Nothing cheers me up quite like your sarcastic tone. I can be civil, but I'll promise nothing else. I'm expecting your scrawny ass to fly in on Monday. I'm sure we'll need mediation by then."

"Just like old times," Cry smirks. "I'll pencil you in. If you can remember how to be polite, then I would suggest that. If not, I've always found you're easiest to get along with when your big mouth is shut."

"You're such a goddamn-"

"Daddy?"

Ken jumps, the small voice jolting his heart into quick thumps. He spins on his heels, phone still pressed against his ear as his brown eyes search the thick darkness of the hallway. He gives a sigh of relief at the small form of his daughter, blanket in her fists and hair a mess from sleep.

"Just one second, Lee Lou," he calls gently before returning his attention to the man on the line. "I've gotta go, Cry. Layla's up."

"Good luck," the brunette nods. "Tell her I said hi. I'll see you Monday morning. Keep me updated, okay?"

"Sure things," he finishes before a quick goodbye. He hangs up, sliding his phone into his pajama pants and focusing on his daughter.

"Is it time to wake up?" she asks when she has his attention. Her soft, brown eyes fill with tears, her bottom lip quivering as she tries to hold back sobs.

"No, not yet sweetie," he assures, giving her a gentle smile.

She reaches towards Ken, wanting to be picked up, and he lifts her without questions. She drops the blanket to hold onto him, whining softly as a few tears escape her eyes and fall onto his shirt.

"Looks like someone's tired," he coos quietly, carefully reaching down to grab her discarded blanket.

Layla nods, little face scrunched in misery from the hour. She relaxes a bit when Ken gently strokes her hair, the tender pets soothing.

"Do you want to watch infomercials until you fall asleep?" he asks, already knowing the answer.

The toddler nods, and Ken takes them to the couch. He sits gently onto the soft cushions, cradling her against his chest as she adjust on his lap. He doesn't grumble, even when her elbows and knees jab into him, hoping she'll find a position that won't leave him sore in the morning. When she stops wiggling, a content sigh coming from her lips when she finds just the right spot to lean against him, he covers her with the blanket. He gives her a kiss on the forehead, sinking into the cushion himself.

With one arm supporting her, he reaches for the remote, flicking on the tv and flipping to their usual middle of the night channel. An excited man nearly screams about his latest and greatest product, smiling proudly from the screen. Ken turns the volume down until it is only a low rumble, rubbing Layla's back as she relaxes in his arms.

Her eyes are fluttering closed in mere minutes, her small fists easing their grip on his shirt. In another moment, she's snoring softly, lips parted slightly. When she's asleep, Ken can't help but realize how much she looks like Mary. Her button nose and soft cheeks are nearly identical to her mother's.

A sour taste settles into his mouth at his last conversation with Mary, the inability to charm his way out of this mess unusual. Normally, his blonde wife is compliant, cooperative to a fault. He still can't quite understand why this in particular has her standing strong.

He gives a sigh, focusing on the infomercial to distract his busy mind. They're advertising something called a Cheese Infuser 5000. The miracle product promises to infuse cheesy goodness into every meal. Though he chuckles at the commercial, he wonders if Jack would like something like that.

The thought of a gift didn't cross his mind until Cry mentioned it. He could ponder a gift for days, those two notoriously hard to shop for. He gives a quick shake to his head, throwing away his thoughts and promising to search during his downtime at PAX. Relaxing to the low murmur of the tv, he attempts to get a bit of sleep before he finds himself grumpy in the chaos of boarding, on a plane to America for the first time in nearly half a decade.