Arabella Faith

robby could have answered that he had come looking for him. he could have mentioned overhearing dana downstairs, or that curiosity had gotten the better of him after discovering dennis apparently disappeared into the NICU often enough that several nurses knew exactly where to find him. instead, his eyes dropped toward the impossibly small patch of hair visible beneath dennis’s chin, and he lifted one hand in a subtle motion toward the baby.

“you’re going to wake ‘em.”

dennis’s mouth closed softly. there was a rolling stool pushed beneath the counter nearby, and robby drew it over carefully, lifting some of its weight as he moved it so the wheels wouldn’t chatter unnecessarily against the floor. robby didn’t move toward the recliner at first. his attention caught on the sink along the wall first, habit taking over before he consciously thought about it. he crossed the small room to wash his hands thoroughly. he worked soap between his palms and along the backs of his hands, between each finger and carefully around his thumbs, scrubbing with the precision before rinsing everything clean and drying his hands completely. he turned back toward dennis and the small infant tucked against his chest.

he settled beside dennis without crowding the recliner or any of the equipment surrounding it, close enough now that his new angle gave him a view the doorway hadn’t. what had been little more than the crown of a tiny head beneath dennis’s chin became the profile of the infant’s face turned sideways against his chest, one cheek resting against bare skin while the blanket remained tucked securely across his back.

a narrow nasal cannula rested beneath the infant’s nose, the delicate tubing tucked snugly into place and secured against his cheeks beneath pieces of adhesive that seemed incredibly small until robby considered the size of the face beneath them. he leaned forward with his forearms resting loosely against his thighs, studying him in the quiet silence. up close, the baby seemed even smaller than he had through the window. his features were delicate in that unmistakable premature way, skin thin and soft beneath the muted light of the room, one tiny ear visible where his head rested against dennis’s chest. even the rise and fall beneath dennis’s hand was slight enough that he found himself watching for it despite the reassuring rhythm of the monitor beside them.

robby’s expression softened without his permission. he lifted one freshly washed hand slowly, giving dennis plenty of opportunity to stop him, and when he made no move to do so, robby extended a finger toward the infant’s face. rather than stroking the delicate skin, he rested the long side of his finger lightly against the baby’s cheek and held it there, the contact still and gentle enough not to disturb him. the skin was astonishingly soft, warm from where he had been tucked against dennis for nearly an hour.

he remained like that for only a minute before withdrawing his hand, careful not to disturb the cannula or the tiny pieces of adhesive keeping it securely in place. he leaned a little closer instead, quietly admiring the sleeping infant while dennis watched him from the corner of his eye, the monitor beside them continuing its steady rhythm into the silence. for once, neither of them seemed particularly compelled to fill it.

robby didn’t mind. he had learned quite early that dennis usually spoke when he was ready and that attempting to drag something out of him before then mostly resulted in quietness. so he waited, eyes remaining on the infant between them while dennis gradually settled deeper into the recliner, some of the embarrassment from being unexpectedly discovered beginning to leave his body.

dennis eventually broke the silence. “dana told you.”

“technically, dana told someone else. i was eavesdropping…accidentally,” robby amended.

there was the faintest movement at one corner of dennis’s mouth before he looked down again. his thumb had begun moving almost unconsciously against the blanket, barely more than a slow pass over the fabric covering the baby’s back before going still again. “i come up here sometimes when we’re slow.”

the flush hadn’t entirely disappeared from his cheeks, though, and robby deliberately spared him by looking toward the monitor rather than him. there was something private about finding dennis like this. it wasn’t secretive, but that part of him that was outside the ED downstairs, away from trauma rooms, alarms, and people demanding answers from him every few minutes.

“how long have you been doing it?”

dennis was quiet long enough that robby wondered whether he would answer. “a few months.”

robby nodded once. he left the obvious question sitting between them without asking it, and apparently dennis recognized that too. his fingers shifted slightly against the baby’s back, checking placement more than changing it, before his shoulders sank another fraction into the recliner.

“they need volunteers sometimes.” dennis kept his voice quiet, his focus stayed on the infant. “especially when parents can’t be here.”

there wasn’t judgment in the way he said it. robby noticed that as he continued.

“some of them live hours away, kids at home, having to go back to work, or they’re recovering themselves. sometimes they’ve been here for weeks.” his eyes moved briefly toward the monitor when the heart rate changed by a few beats before settling again once it steadied. “the nurses do what they can, but they can’t sit here holding one baby for an hour when they’ve got other patients.”

“so you do.”

dennis gave the smallest shrug he could manage without disturbing the weight against his chest. “yeah.”

the simple answer hit differently than robby expected. of course that was how dennis would explain it, not as generosity and certainly nothing worth of praise. there was a need, he had the ability to fill it, and along the way he’d quietly carved out his own time around doing exactly that without mentioning it to anyone downstairs.

the infant made a tiny noise between them then, hardly more than a breathy little squeak, and every trace of dennis’s lingering self-consciousness disappeared. his chin dipped immediately, eyes searching what little he could see of the baby’s face while his hand remained warm and steady across the narrow back. the baby shifted once beneath the blanket, a small hand working free near dennis’s collarbone. the fingers opened without purpose before curling loosely against his skin, barely large enough to span more than an inch or two.

dennis went completely still and robby did too.

for several seconds, they both watched those tiny fingers resting against dennis’s chest, a startling amount of tenderness settling over his expression as his attention remained concentrated entirely on something small enough to fit against one side of his chest.

robby stayed on the stool. he hadn’t intended to, fifteen minutes had been what he’d told dana, and downstairs the ED was undoubtedly preparing to punish them for having experienced a lull in the first place. his phone remained in his pocket, volume high enough that he would hear it immediately if they needed him, but for the moment it stayed silent. he sat with his forearms resting against his thighs and watched the monitor while dennis watched the baby, allowing the quiet to settle comfortably around them.

after a while, dennis looked over. “you don’t have to stay.”

“i know.”

dennis watched him, apparently waiting for the rest of the answer.

robby glanced toward the tiny hand still curled against dennis’s chest before looking back at him. “but i’m already here.”

something in dennis’s face shifted at that. not enough that anyone who didn’t know him would have noticed, but robby did. his shoulders loosened. the line between his brows disappeared. he looked down at the sleeping infant again and adjusted the blanket by barely half an inch, tucking its edge more securely around the tiny body before settling his palm back into place.