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Baby walked into the safe house, swaying side to side in rhythm, bopping his head to the music only he could hear. His earbuds were in, volume up, drowning out the world with the steady thrum of a beat that was his alone.
He slid into a chair at the back of the room, eyes flicking to Doc as the man launched into another meticulous rundown of the plan. Baby barely listened. Instead, he turned the volume higher and shut his eyes. Week after week of these meetings were starting to wear on him.
The faint ringing in his ears dulled as exhaustion seeped in. It had been a long week, Between taking Joe to his appointments, cramming to finish school assignments, and running jobs for Doc, Baby hadn’t had a moment to breathe.
As Doc’s voice droned on in the background, Baby felt himself drifting, the edges of reality softening as the music wrapped around him. He was right on the edge of sleep when a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“Come on, kid. Time to wake up,” a deep voice rumbled.
Buddy, his mind supplied hazily. Cracking his eyes open, Baby found Buddy looming over him, Darling at his side, both of them wearing matching smirks.
“Poor Baby needs his sleep,” Darling cooed sweetly, leaning down so her perfume tickled his nose. “Naptime got cut short at school today, huh?”
Before Baby could answer—not that he planned to, Bats strolled by with his trademark shit-eating grin.
“God, if it isn’t fucking Mommy and Daddy looking out for their Baby,” Bats mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Buddy rolled his eyes and shot him a glare. “Leave him alone, Bats. He’s probably tired from carrying your ass during the heist.”
Darling laughed softly, running a manicured hand through Baby’s curls. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” she murmured, fingers combing soothingly through his hair.
Before the exchange could get uglier, Doc’s boots thudded against the concrete floor, each step echoing through the room like a warning. His sharp eyes landed on Baby slouched in the chair.
“Baby,” Doc barked, voice firm but not unkind, “get up and get some sleep. I can’t have you falling asleep at the damn wheel.” He didn’t wait for an argument—just gripped Baby’s shoulders and guided him toward the couch in the corner.
Too tired to protest, Baby let himself be steered to the worn blue couch. He collapsed onto it, curling into himself like a cat, earbuds still in as his music carried him away.
When he woke later, the room was quieter. His legs were draped over Buddy’s lap, and Darling’s long nails were tracing gentle patterns through his curls. For a moment, Baby didn’t move. He just let himself breathe.
“There he is,” Darling purred, her voice like warm honey. “You sleep pretty, Baby.”
“Always does,” Buddy added, glancing down at him with something between amusement and fondness. His large hands rested against Baby’s knees, heavy like an anchor. “You out cold for almost an hour, kid.”
Baby blinked up at the ceiling, not trusting his voice just yet. The safe house had grown quieter, Doc was gone, and the arguing voices of the crew had faded into lazy chatter. For now, there was nothing but stillness.
“You drooled on my jeans,” Buddy said after a moment, deadpan.
Baby’s eyes flicked to him, wide. Buddy smirked. “Relax. I’m kidding.”
Darling let out a soft laugh and twirled one of Baby’s curls around her finger. “Look at him. Sweet thing. How old are you again?”
Baby pulled out one earbud and mumbled, “Old enough.” His voice was rough with sleep, low and quiet.
“Mm-hm.” Darling smiled knowingly. “You’re still just a boy.”
“Boy drives better than most men I know,” Buddy said, tipping his head back against the couch. “Kid’s got ice in his veins when he needs it.”
“And sleeps in the middle of meetings,” Bats’ voice cut in from across the room. Baby glanced over to see him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and an infuriating grin plastered on his face. “Real professional, Baby.”
“Shut up, Bats,” Buddy snapped without looking at him.
Bats scoffed but didn’t push it further. The tension hung in the air for a beat before dissolving as Buddy shifted his attention back to Baby.
“You good?” he asked quietly, just for him.
Baby nodded. He didn’t really trust his voice to say more than that. Exhaustion still clung to him like a second skin, but under it was something else—something warm, something safe. It was strange, feeling that here of all places.
Darling brushed her fingers through his hair one last time before leaning back against Buddy. “Get some real sleep when you get home, Baby,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” Buddy agreed. “Doc’s not gonna like it if you’re running on fumes tomorrow.”
Baby gave another small nod, sliding his earbud back in. The music swelled, drowning out their voices, pulling him into his own again.
The city glittered like broken glass in the dark, streetlights cutting through the fog as Baby rolled the Impala into position. The music was pounding now. something sharp and fast that made his pulse keep time. He drummed his fingers on the wheel, feeling the hum of the engine like a heartbeat under his hands.
Eight o’clock sharp. He wasn’t late.
The others piled in behind him.
“You awake this time?” Bats asked with a grin that showed too many teeth.
Baby didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at him. He just turned the volume up a notch and gripped the wheel tighter.
Buddy shot Bats a look, but Bats only smirked wider.
“Don’t start,” Buddy warned, voice low and dangerous.
“Just making conversation,” Bats said lightly, kicking the back of Baby’s seat hard enough to jolt him forward.
Baby’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t flinch. He just stared straight ahead, watching the traffic lights tick from green to amber to red, counting the beats in his head. One-two-three-four. The rhythm steadied him. Always did.
Baby inhaled slow through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, and waited for the countdown. His fingers flexed once against the wheel.
“Three… two… one.”
The doors slammed, and suddenly Baby was alone with the car and the music.
The job was supposed to be simple get in, grab the money, get out. But nothing ever stayed simple. He knew it the second the first alarm started wailing.
The comm erupted with shouting. “Move, move, MOVE!” Bats barked, gunfire cracking in the background. Baby tightened his grip on the wheel and swung out into the street, tires screaming against the pavement. Sirens lit up behind him like a second sky.
“Baby, we need you at the west exit—now!” Buddy’s voice cut through, hard and sharp.
Baby didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He just drove.
Red light ahead, he blew through it, weaving between cars like they were standing still, the bass pounding in his ears louder than the horns and sirens. His hands were steady, his mind sharper than it had been in days. No sleep, no problem. He could do this in his own veins if he had to.
A black-and-white slid into his path, lights blazing. Baby jerked the wheel, skimmed a bumper by inches, and shot down an alley so tight the mirrors scraped brick. Sparks flew. He didn’t blink.
When he hit open road again, he was grinning. Wide. Breathless. Alive.
The others tumbled into the car thirty seconds later, heavy with bags and heavier with adrenaline.
“Go, go, go!” Bats yelled, slamming the door.
Baby floored it. The car roared like an animal unleashed, and the city blurred into streaks of color and sound. Sirens behind them, helicopters above, tires screaming on wet asphalt.
“Jesus Christ, Baby,” Buddy muttered, white knuckled on the dash as they fishtailed around a corner hard enough to lift two wheels off the ground. “You trying to kill us?”
Baby didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The music was everything now, the beat syncing with the pounding of his heart, the rhythm of tires eating up the road.
They hit the bridge, cops closing in on both sides. Nowhere to go but forward.
“Do something!” Bats screamed, voice cracking.
Baby smiled. Just a little. And then he did.
The car launched off the side ramp like a bullet, soaring over the river in a spray of headlights and broken rules. For one weightless second, everything was silent except the music. Then they slammed back onto asphalt, shocks groaning, sparks flying as they tore into the tunnel on the other side.
The sirens faded behind them like dying stars.
For a long time, nobody spoke. The only sound was the engine cooling and Baby’s music, soft and sweet now, as if the storm never happened.
Finally, Buddy let out a low laugh. Shaky. Almost disbelieving. “You’re outta your damn mind, kid.”
Darling reached forward, brushing a hand through Baby’s hair. Her nails scratched lightly against his scalp, same as before. “Told you he drives better than most men,” she said, voice smooth as silk.
Bats just sat there.
Baby didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to. He just tapped the wheel in time with the music, the faintest smile tugging at his lips
Because tired or not, danger or not when he was behind the wheel, he was untouchable.
⸻
The engine ticked softly as Baby killed the ignition. The car smelled like burnt rubber.
When they finally rolled into the garage, Buddy was the first one out, slamming the door so hard it rattled. Darling slipped out behind him, graceful even in heels, tossing her hair like nothing had happened. Bats just sat there, breathing heavy, eyes burning holes in the back of Baby’s head.
“Move,” Bats snapped eventually, shoving the seat forward to climb out. Baby didn’t move fast enough for his liking. A hard shove between the shoulders sent him stumbling out of the car.
Before Baby could even straighten up, Buddy was there.
“Touch him again,” Buddy said, voice low, deadly calm, “and I’ll break your arm.”
Bats grinned, but it was thinner now, stretched tight over something ugly. “Oh, what, you his bodyguard now?”
“No,” Buddy said, stepping in close, chest to chest. “I just don’t like cleaning blood out of car seats. And if you keep talking, it’s gonna be yours.”
“Enough.”
Doc’s voice cut through the garage like a gunshot. Everyone froze.
He stood in the doorway, hands behind his back, eyes cold and flat as coins. His boots echoed against the concrete as he walked forward, slow and steady, like a man who didn’t need to hurry because the whole damn room already belonged to him.
“Inside,” he said simply.
No one argued.
⸻
The safe house felt colder than before. Baby dropped onto the couch, earbuds still dangling from his neck, heart thudding like a drum against his ribs. He didn’t look at anyone.
Doc stood at the center of the room, taking his time peeling off his gloves. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
“Tell me,” he said finally, “what in the hell possessed you to pull a stunt like that?”
Baby stayed quiet. He knew better than to answer too fast.
Doc took a step closer, voice still calm, still cold. “You don’t speak in my meetings, you fall asleep in my meetings, and then you decide to turn my job into a goddamn circus act. You know what happens to liabilities, Baby?”
Baby met his eyes then. Just for a second. And that second was enough.
Doc stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Then he smiled. It was small. Sharp. Nothing good lived in that smile.
“Don’t do it again,” he said softly. “Because next time, you won’t have wheels to hide behind.”
Baby gave the smallest nod. That was all.
Doc turned away, dismissing him without another word, and the tension in the room shifted.
Buddy sank onto the arm of the couch beside Baby, still coiled tight like a spring. Darling perched next to him, her nails tracing lazy circles on Baby’s shoulder like nothing was wrong. Like she wasn’t sitting between two men who’d kill for him, and one who might kill him if it came to that.
Across the room, Bats poured himself a drink, his grin back in place but thinner than before.
Baby slipped his earbuds in again, letting the music fill his head, and leaned back into the couch. He could feel Buddy’s weight beside him. Darling’s nails in his curls. Doc’s voice still ringing in his bones.
He closed his eyes. The song changed.