The cry sounded from across the hall, but that's not what grabbed Stiles' attention. But it was the hard shove square to his shoulder blades from his wife that did.

"What?" he turned over meeting Lydia's glare. "I mean, yes dear?"

"Emma's crying," she stated, her voice echoed his exhaustion.

Pushing himself up on their bed his gaze softened at her. "Hun, the book says we need to let her cry sometimes."

"I don't give a damn what the book says," she folded her arms in a huff. "Now go get her."

Stiles got up rubbing his eyes. "I will go settle her back down, but we need to let her sleep in her own room."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't disagree. She grabbed a book off the bedside table, and Stiles caught a glimpse of the title, smirking. A thermodynamics book and she called him a nerd.

He made his way to Emma's room, but didn't bother turning the overhead light on. The glow of the nightlight was strong enough. As the hinges squeaked his daughters tear streaked face turned meeting his eyes with a sniffle.

"Oh no, none of that," Stiles had gently placed her in the crook of his arm. "You're mom does that sniffle thing too, so don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

Emma squirmed nestling herself into his side.

"Here's the deal, kid," he moved to sit in the vacate rocking chair. "One song, that's all you get. Then it's off to bed for both of us."

She blew a spit bubble at him, which Stiles took as a good sign that she agreed.

"Okay, here we go," he took a deep breath racking his brain for a melody. "Ooh, I got it."

"Hush little baby don't you shout," he began instantly regretting the choice. It was clear he already got the lyrics wrong, but he was too stubborn or tried to start again. "Daddy's gonna buy you um, a piggy snout. And if that snout doesn't smell, Daddy's gonna buy you spikey hair gel."

He shook his head at his own weirdness, but Emma seemed to be enjoying it, so he continued. "And it that gel doesn't do the trick, Daddy's gonna buy you a pogo stick. And if that stick doesn't hop, Daddy's gonna buy you all Four Tops."

Her eye lids were fluttering closed, and Stiles knew he only had a few more lines before she was completely out. "And if the Tops aren't for sale, Daddy's gonna force feed 'em pounds of kale. And if that kale makes them gag, Daddy's gonna get 'em a barfing bag."

Emma's fingers had found their way to her mouth as she sucked quietly. It swelled such an emotion in Stiles that he knew if he didn't wrap it up soon, he's daughter would sleep all night in his arms.

"And if that bag gets a hole, Daddy's gonna buy you something old. And if what's old ever breaks down, you'll still be the cutest baby in town."

She was fast asleep, as Stiles laid her back down, placing a soft kiss to her forehead. When he reopened their bedroom door Lydia's grin was wide, and she looked like she was about to crack up.

"And just what is so funny?" he asked with a mocked scowl.

She held the baby monitor with a smile. "You realize you only got one line right?"

"Well I'm sorry if my brain doesn't fire on all cylinders at 2 am," Stiles crawled back into bed, giving her a quick kiss. "I'd like to see you do better."

"Next time," she smiled snuggling down next to him. "I promise."