PHOEBE

TWO YEARS LATER

SOHO, NEW YORK

“Is the suit jacket too much for… you know, welcoming a baby into the world?” Damien asks, standing in front of the mirror, his brows pinched together.

“I think you look fine,” Phoebe replies as she slides on her boots. “You look distinguished.”

He sighs, fiddling with the lapels and trying to get them to sit right. He wore the same jacket to the Grammys, dark blue with a bit of a sheen that makes it look holographic in the light. With his black t-shirt underneath, it looks a little understated, but he’s gorgeous. Phoebe smiles, watching him pick apart his appearance before he finally shakes his head.

“I feel like it’s too much. It’s setting up a false expectation. This kid’s gonna think I’m an accountant instead of her cool uncle.”

“I don’t think a newborn knows what an accountant is,” she chuckles.

His hair is still long and wild as ever, but he doesn’t look anything like the rockstar she met years ago. Tonight, he looks a mixture of terrified and excited.

But there’s no time for him to rethink his wardrobe. They got the call that Erin went into labor two hours ago. Johnny’s at the hospital, giddy with excitement. He’s taken to this whole dad thing really well. He even got himself a pair of white sneakers and a baseball cap. He said it was his ‘dad outfit.’

“Come on, we’ve gotta go.” Phoebe grabs her bag and hoists it over her shoulder. She’s got her camera, some film, chocolates for Erin, and a bottle of champagne stuffed in there. They’ve got to be ready to celebrate the newest member of their little family. “Erin could give birth any second!”

“I’m just nervous!” He sighs. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Well, you’re not meeting the President. The baby will love you no matter what.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “What if she takes one look at me and decides I’m a big fuckin’ loser?”

Phoebe wraps her arms around him.

“Wear your leather jacket. You want Violet to meet her uncle in his coolest form, right?”

Damien grins, shrugging off his suit jacket and snatching his black leather one off of the floor.

“You’re right, you’re right. I can be an accountant at the meetings with the label.”

She grasps his face with both hands, kissing him.

“You look great, trust me, okay? She’ll be very impressed by you.”

She remembers when her nephews were born and how amazing it felt to hold them and to know that she’d at least have a little part in how they grew up. They’ve been in Damien and Phoebe’s lives a lot over the last two years. They split Christmas between Damien’s parents and Michael’s place, and do a big Thanksgiving dinner at their house with as many people as they can pack into their kitchen and dining room. Her relationship with her own parents hasn’t healed, but she’ll always have a family.

Damien shrugs on his jacket and they rush out the door, heading for a cab that’s been waiting for them for ten minutes. Phoebe slips inside and Damien hands the driver an extra hundred bucks as she breathes a sigh of relief.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“Hey, no problem, man,” the driver chuckles. “Where to?”

“New York Presbyterian,” Phoebe announces. “And… fast? Please?”

The driver flashes them a smile over his shoulder and Phoebe instantly buckles her seatbelt. New York cab drivers are insane, especially if you give them permission to hurry up.

The car peels down the street, barreling toward the hospital while still trying to stay within the speed limit. The city and the people on the sidewalks become a blur as they weave through traffic. Phoebe can’t keep the excited grin off of her face.

“I can’t believe Johnny and Erin are going to be parents,” she laughs.

“Tell me about it. I’ve been thinking about that since they told us that Erin was pregnant. You know, Johnny’s been reading all those parenting books. He’s taking this so seriously, it’s adorable.”

The band went on a short European tour to promote the second album, but Erin’s pregnancy forced them to slow down. So, they’ve been hanging out in Damien’s studio, writing and recording for a third album that they’re planning on releasing next year.

Might as well, right?

The cab stops in front of the hospital entrance and they climb out, rushing inside. Damien stops at the desk, wide eyed and heaving. The nurse leans back in her chair, one brow raised as Phoebe winces. She’s sure they see a lot, but when Damien’s in panic mode, he gets a little intense.

“We’re having– no, wait! Our friend is having a baby!” The nurse continues to stare at him and he shrugs, shaking his head. “Help, I guess?!”

The tension melts away and the nurse chuckles.

“What’s her name, darling?”

“Erin Campbell-Reed. She– she said we could be here.”

Damien Bell out of his element is adorable. He looks over his shoulder, like Erin and Johnny are just going to pop out of a random room. Phoebe puts her hand on his back to calm him down and he takes a big breath. At home, he’s got a closet filled with toys, baby clothes, shoes, and books– everything a child would need. He really went overboard, but that’s the thing she loves the most about him.

The nurse nods and flips through some papers, humming to herself while Phoebe grasps Damien’s hand and gives it a little squeeze.

“Yep, she’s here. You can wait in the maternity ward. Down the hall and to your right.”

“Thank you!”

Damien and Phoebe take off, both of them trying not to break out in a full sprint. When they get to the maternity ward, the whole band is there, including Janis, Troy, Liam, and Erin’s parents. Phoebe feels a small pang, remembering Johnny’s mother and father who aren’t here to see the birth of their grandchild. But these are the people who raised him and made him who he is today: a wonderful husband, a great friend, and a soon-to-be amazing father.

Blood doesn’t make a family, love does.

She thinks about her own parents, and how they still haven’t reached out to her. As time creeps by, it hurts less and less, but there’s a part of her that’s scared for big moments like this. Who’s going to step in and fill that role? She’d like to have kids some day and she’d like for them to know their grandparents, but that’s not her call to make. They have to extend the olive branch. Phoebe’s not going to wait for them.

Damien and Phoebe make the rounds, saying hi to everyone and shaking hands before they settle in. Janis, Ophelia, and Shaun are playing cards, their chairs arranged in a little circle around a small table.

“She’s still in labor?” Damien asks, checking his watch.

“Well, it generally takes more than a couple of hours,” Ophelia chuckles. “Oh! I got gin!”

“Dammit,” Janis mutters, tossing her cards down. “So fucking close!”

“I think I was in labor with Erin for 40 hours.” Erin’s mother grins at Damien. “Hurry up and wait, kid.”

Damien slumps back in his seat, pouting a little.

“Jesus, 40 hours?” He looks at the clock and then to Phoebe. “We’re gonna have to raid the gift shop for stuff to do.”

She chuckles and pats his thigh. He’s so impatient.

“Here, come and play cards,” Shaun offers as the circle opens up and he motions to the little table where they’re playing gin. “I need someone other than me to be humiliated by these two.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love humiliation,” Janis snickers as Ophelia elbows her gently.

“Only certain kinds.” Shaun looks bashful, and averting his eyes. “This sucks. We should play Go Fish.”

“No!” Ophelia and Janis bark.

Damien and Phoebe pull up a chair, both of them settling in for a long, long wait.

Hours trickle by and they lose their card games miserably.

Johnny briefly rushes in to give updates and every time he runs in, everyone gets to their feet, only to be severely let down again. He keeps saying any minute now, but they’ve all figured out that it’s bullshit. 

“Reed, don’t come back in here unless you’re holding a tiny human in your arms!” Troy barks.

Damien makes several trips to the gift shop, picking up some books, some balloons, and some candy for them all to share.

At hour ten, Damien’s passed out on Phoebe’s shoulder while she struggles to get comfortable. The chair is too hard, her legs are restless, the hospital smells too sterile, and she would give anything to be back in her bed right now. Snuggled under a warm comforter with Maverick purring right next to her ear…

She lingers on the thought, picturing their warm duvet around her. Just as she’s closing her eyes, she hears sneakers squeak on the floor and Johnny’s voice.

“Guys! Guys! She’s here! Violet’s here!”

Phoebe opens her eyes, finding Erin’s parents already heading to the delivery room. She’s trying to process it all. Everyone is on their feet and she can feel the chaos starting to mount. 

Damien is already on his feet, a big smile on his face. He rushes toward Johnny and flings his arms around him, almost knocking the poor guy over. Johnny laughs, clapping him on the back. There are tears in his eyes and he looks so much different than he did when she first met him. His boyish features have ebbed away, replaced by more chiseled ones. But they’re softer somehow. He’s got wisdom in his dark blue eyes that only comes with time and experience.

“Pheebs!” Damien calls. “Pop the champagne!”

“Christ, Bell, hold your horses,” Troy laughs. “Can we see her?”

“Yeah, yeah! She’s up! You guys have gotta shut the fuck up, though,” Johnny warns them. “If you make my kid cry, I’m cleaning your clocks. She’s already busted my eardrum, I think.”

“Get used to it,” Troy mutters.

They follow Johnny down a long hallway to Erin’s room. She’s propped up on a big pile of pillows with a tiny baby bundled in her arms. Phoebe’s throat gets tight seeing the smile on her face. Her dark hair is pulled up into a big, messy bun with a few pieces still stuck to her forehead. There’s sweat on her hairline, and her mother gently wipes it away with a towel.

“Hey, fuckers!” She laughs.

“Two minutes of motherhood and you’re already cussing in front of the baby.” Damien shakes his head. “Shameless, Campbell.”

“You should have heard me when I was pushing her out,” Erin chuckles. She grins. “You guys wanna pass her around? I could use a cup of coffee.”

Johnny gently takes Violet, holding her close to his chest. The smile on his face is one of pure joy, with love in his eyes. He coos at her and kisses her forehead. Phoebe pulls her camera out of her bag and snaps a quick photo, a closeup of just the two of them. It’ll be a great shot, a private one that they can put into their own photo album.

He passes the baby around to each band member while Erin’s mom pampers her and fluffs up her pillows.

“She’s beautiful, guys,” Liam murmurs, rocking Violet from side to side. “Erin, you did a hell of a job.”

“Hey, I was there too!” Johnny announces.

“Yeah, but she did 99% of the work,” Liam reminds him. “I mean, all you really do is dump your–”

“Liam!” Ophelia hisses through laughter. “Stop it!”

Phoebe glances over to see if Erin’s mom heard anything, but she’s too busy coming her daughter’s hair out of her face and kissing her. Liam grins, passing the baby along to Ophelia.

“Hi, baby girl,” Ophelia whispers. She and Janis are on the verge of tears. “I’m gonna teach you how to be so fucking cool, you have no idea.”

Phoebe snaps pictures of everything as the band fawns over Violet, kissing her chubby cheeks. Even Troy has a little paternal moment that he tells Phoebe she’s not allowed to take pictures of. She does anyway. Someone might need it for proof that he really is a big sweetheart underneath all of that sarcasm.

“Hey, come on! Quit hogging the baby!”

“Chill out,” Troy laughs, cradling Violet in his arms. “Your uncle Damien’s a bad influence. He’s got a PhD in being a disrespectful asshole.”

“And your uncle Troy’s a liar, Violet. Don’t listen to a word he says.”

Phoebe snorts.

“They’re not lies, my love.”

Troy gently carries Violet over to Damien and he pulls her close to his chest, his face softening instantly. Phoebe leans over and gently brushes away a little piece of lint from her tiny face. She’s got a full head of dark hair just like her mother. Her eyes are still closed, and her skin is still bright pink. Her tiny hands are balled up into fists and Damien chuckles, gently squeezing them.

“You ready for a fight, kiddo? Hmm?” He pretends to get knocked out by her imaginary little punches. “Oh! You got me!”

The whole room is a mixture of laughter and sniffles. Damien kisses the baby’s little button nose, and Phoebe can’t stop staring at him. He looks so sweet, and she’d be lying if she said this didn’t make her want to start a family.

But they’ve got a ways to go. They’re enjoying being married, enjoying being able to travel, and really get to know each other. Neither of them are in a rush to have kids right now. They have time. For now, they’ll be the cool aunt and uncle that let Violet have ice cream for breakfast and take her to all the fun places around New York. She’ll be so loved.

Phoebe takes a step back and takes a picture of him cradling Violet and rocking her from side to side.

“You’re so loved, little one,” he whispers. “And I’ll always be here to teach you how to give Troy the finger.”

Even Troy chuckles at that. Maybe the old man is softening as the years creep by.

“So, we’re gonna teach her how to solo on guitar, right?” Shaun asks. “She can be my sidekick.”

“Nah, I was thinking bass,” Johnny replies.

“Drums would be a good option, too,” Ophelia chimes in, winking at Johnny.

“Well, I think we should let Violet make her own decisions,” Damien pipes up.

Violet’s got everything ahead of her, and so much love around her. This little family that they’ve built has come full circle.

“Agreed,” Phoebe murmurs. “The world is her oyster.”

And it’s theirs, too.