I do not own glee.
He wanted Emma.
He then spotted her in the distance, when his eyes grew wide. He watched her neatly place a mattress into his crib. He gurgled as he tugged away from the bottle. He silently turned his head and refused it when Will put it to his lips.
Will checked to see if Rory needed to burp, but not yet. Rory wasn't bloated, he was unsatisfied. He wanted Emma to feed him, and she wasn't.
Rory then evoked a way to call Emma, after remembering earlier. He cried out, "Ehhaahh!"
"Are you tired?" Will asked, slowing the rocking chair down. Rory whimpered, shoving his thumb in his mouth to provide himself comfort. He was tired, but he wasn't ready to sleep just yet. He wanted to be with Emma, to share eye contact with her, to have her arm wrapped around him, to feel her hand stroking the back of his thigh as he lay coiled up. "Ehhaahh!"
This time, Emma had heard him. She would be coming to save him from his troubles.
"Ehhaahh!" he cooed, with his arms in the air. "Up, up!"
Emma got him into her arms, and sat in the chair after Will stood up. Rory was no longer fussy, and he lit up as if he'd won a grand prize. "Bah, bah!"
She got the bottle, which was almost completely full due to reject, and she slid the nipple into his open mouth. She chanted and hummed very faintly, consoling him.
He nestled on her lap, taking milk once she tilted the bottle. He didn't have to grab her necklace to avoid slipping off and tumbling to the floor. She held him with a firm grip, with him resting as far away from the edge of her knees as possible. Unlike Will, she had a spread of instincts. She had the mother's touch. He could sense it.
Rory's eyes grew droopy once he downed a quarter of the milk. He longed for some sleep, although he desired to be awake for a while. He didn't want to fall asleep and spoil this.
Emma took the bottle from him, but he wasn't at all angry. He was just a little shocked. His eyes popped fully open and he rose from the slumped position.
She put the bottle down, and temptorarily sat Rory in the open crib. She went to the dresser for a footie pajama and returned to the crib, where she'd undress Rory and zip him up into the cozy pajama, just in case he were to fall asleep. All she'd have to do is carry him to the crib. He babbled to himself as he was taken back to the rocking chair, where she gave him the bottle back.
She rocked the chair back and forth, with a constant but steady rhythm. She crooned sweet words to him, and although he probably didn't grasp the meaning of them, he still seemed to like the gentle affection and attention. Emma was so gracious to him.
Baack, foorth
Baack, foorth
A draft came in the room, causing Rory to shiver through the pajama. Emma tugged a blanket from the arm of the rocking chair to put over Rory.
She rocked a little further.
Baaaack
Foooorth
Baaaack
Foooorth
Baaaack
Foooorth
Baaaack
Foooorth
Rory's head dropped back onto her shoulder. His eyes were still open. He immediately stopped sucking the bottle, with the nipple just resting in his mouth. He was motionless, and he felt light on her lap.
"Rory?" Emma said. "Rory?"
Maybe he wasn't feeling well? She felt his forehead and cheek, and she felt coldness. It was very unusual and a little scary. Maybe it was just her hands from the temperature of the room? Would that be possible?
"Rory, honey?"