Much as he loved his hometown, Zacky hated the storms that happened to plague the city whenever tornado season came around. He could never sleep, and he'd often spend hot and humid nights tossing and turning in his uncomfortable bed, hoping to drift off into an uneasy slumber. But like all the other nights, there was no such luck.
The power had been out for almost three hours, thanks to some lightning hitting the power cables and switching off the whole street. He'd been informed by some poor guy who had to walk around the houses and make sure everyone was OK that the power would be restored by morning, if not earlier, but now, the house was encased in darkness.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get any sleep, Zacky slipped out of his bed and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, intent on finding some water, or even a beer- if his stomach could tolerate alcohol this early in the morning. One of his dogs barked somewhere in the distance, thanks to the screaming thunder and lightning that was crashing around the house, but Zacky couldn't muster up the energy to find his pets and soothe them, because he was too damn tired from not sleeping. He had rehearsal in the morning, and he knew Matt would yell at him if he fell asleep during 'Burn It Down' again.

And that was when he heard the knock on his front door.

Zacky paused, one hand on his water bottle and the other sort of stretched out in front of him, as if he was trying to grab thin air. It was gone 3am, who would be knocking on his door this early in the morning? Unless it was that damn inspector, he didn't care, because he was awake- and he'd open his door to whoever was there.
Brushing down his hair so he looked fairly respectable to whoever was at his door, he checked his reflection in the mirror beside the door, before grabbing the handle and flinging it open.

No one was there.

He was literally just staring out into the rain, which was pelting down viciously on the driveway of his home, cracking against the outside of his cars. Zacky didn't try yelling, because whoever had been there was obviously and was about to shut when he heard a soft cry from his feet. Looking down, he saw a wicker basket on the step, thick blankets filling the empty space.

And suddenly, a tiny hand appeared from the blankets.

After recovering from what had felt like a scene from a horror movie, he took a deep breath before confronting the basket. Kneeling down, Zacky pushed away some of the blankets and almost fell over when he came to face to face with a baby. It had big blue eyes that blinked up at him, terrified of what was happening, if it could even register that it had been left on it's doorstep, and only wore a thin shirt to cover it's body and socks that covered tiny feet. Little tufts of brown hair were sticking out from the top of her head and taped to her shirt was a note from the person who'd left her with him.

Suddenly, the baby started to wail again, and Zacky picked up the basket and carried it inside, bewildered at his calm exterior. He placed the basket on the kitchen table and carefully ripped the note off of the child. With shaking hands, and trying to ignore the little whines the baby was making, Zacky read,

"Dear whoever it may concern,
This baby now belongs to you. She's ten months old and her name is Linzee. Please take good care of her"

Zacky started down at the little girl, little Linzee, and somehow, started to smile.
He adored children, especially when they were at the cute stage, and now one had just appeared on his doorstep, like God had sent one down for him. He didn't have a girlfriend, and it looked like he was far from married- but now he had a child to take care of. That was if nobody came back to the house demanding their child. Linzee started to sniffle uncomfortably, and putting the note back into the basket, Zacky wrapped the little girl in the blankets and picked her up, holding her like he had with his sister's children. She began to wail, but thanks to watching his family raise generations of children, he tried out something his mother had done, and started to gently bounce Linzee up and down.

It worked. Amazingly, Linzee began to quieten down, and after a few moments, she was reduced to gurgling in Zacky's arms.
"There we go little Linzee. Who left you on my doorstep, hm? Why would anyone not want you- you're gorgeous" he cooed, a little voice telling him in the back of his head that when the guys saw the kid, and they way he acted, they torture him more than Johnny. He couldn't help it- they were adorable.
Linzee turned her head to stare back at him, and those baby blue eyes, filled with a horrible innocence that made Zacky feel like an intruder on someone elses life, just made him smile.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's see if I can get you to go to sleep- then I'll work out what we need to next" he said, stroking her little cheek with one of his fingers.

And in the moment, Linzee reached up and grabbed Zacky's finger in her fist, holding on tight.

Zacky froze, totally caught up in the fact that this baby, the one he'd just found at his house, was holding his finger, because she had no one else. And gingerly, he leant down and kissed her little head, holding her tighter.
Because she was his problem now. He had a child to look after- he was responsible for another human life.
Here was Zacky Vengeance, a touring musician with a party filled lifestyle, standing in his dark kitchen at 3am, holding a baby girl who'd been left on his doorstep because he didn't know what else to do.

"Oh shit" he muttered.

Oh shit indeed.