This literally doesn't advance the plot whatsoever but I have this strange feeling y'all won't really mind.
They're laying on the couch, Olivia on top of him. Her face directly over his heart, listening to it beat. Forever in sync with her own. They lay there in silence, words not needed to be spoken, the simple presence of the other comforting enough. He closes his eyes and kisses the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her.
The only light in the room is the soft flicker of the dying candle on the kitchen counter. She turns her head to look up at him, twirling the curls at the nape of his neck around her finger. She yawns and a few seconds later he does the same.
"Wow I didn't know having a sick baby would be more exhausting than a newborn."
He runs his hand down her back. "How long do you actually think he'll sleep tonight?"
She playfully rolls her eyes. "Not long enough, that's for sure. I was up with him all night last night."
He smiles and kisses her forehead, and they fall back into a peaceful silence. She feels his breath slowly even out underneath her as sleep encompasses him. She quickly succumbs too, her hand subconsciously wrapped tightly around the baby monitor.
He doesn't know what time it is, or what time they actually fell asleep but he knows that familiar cry. He delicately disentangles himself from her and turns off the baby monitor, allowing her to stay deep in her peaceful sleep. He walks up the stairs, rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake
He opens the baby's door and sees Gerry sitting upright, clutching his favorite blue and green blanket, tears streaming down his face. Gerry makes eye contact with him through the dark room as Fitz walks over to the crib. Gerry lifts his arms up, pleading to be held, hoping the contact will relieve his pain.
Fitz picks Gerry up out of the crib and brings him flush against his chest, slowly and rhythmically swaying back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on the baby's back. He puts the back of his palm to the baby's forehead and cheeks; they're warm, hot even.
He kisses Gerry's head and walks over to where the medicine Olivia had picked up resides. He one handedly measures out the dosage and feeds it to Gerry. Gerry cries even louder, clearly not happy with the taste of whatever was just given to him.
Fitz walks over to the antique rocking chair that her parents had given them. It's the one she was rocked in as a baby. He gently sits down and takes off his shirt, hoping some skin to skin contact will help soothe the baby, comfort him. He takes Gerry's blanket and wraps it around the boy's back, running his hand up and down, whispering softly.
His sobs turn into cries which fade into hiccups, gasps for air, and then eventually, glorious silence. Fitz looks down at Gerry and sees his eyes are open, he's awake and sucking on his thumb. He sits there for another few minutes, continuing his soothing ministrations, but Gerry won't drift off the sleep.
Finally, Fitz tries to lay him back in the crib, but Gerry starts crying again. He sits back down and props his feet up, realizing it's going to be a long night. But he's happy to do it, happy to sit up with his sick son, happy to let her have a few hours of sleep after a long day at her new office.
They both eventually drift off to sleep in that position, Gerry's head resting above his heart, his tiny hand placed flat against Fitz's chest, Fitz's head gently resting on top of Gerry's, his arms wrapped tightly around the baby, a small unconscious smile on his lips.
Olivia finds them like that in the morning, asleep and peaceful and content.