The lingering winter was keeping most of the city indoors and very few people wanted to go outside into the cold. Hank had gotten over his cold and Hannah had gotten over her ear infection, but now she was beginning to teeth and enduring chronic pain and mild fevers from her tiny body being stressed out by the uncomfortable changes to her body. With his own experience with a teething baby under his belt Hank held Hannah on his lap as he kept her bundled up in her yellow blanket and let her chewed on the chilled teething-ring he had purchased for her after clocking out of his shift the previous evening.

"Teeth sucks, Hannah-Banana." Hank soothed as he held his granddaughter on his lap and watched her gnawing and drooling all over the purple tinted ring in her mouth. "But trust me, only your beautiful smile comes in and you can eat some really food you'll know it was all worth it."

"How long does teething last?" Connor asked as he walked down the staircase to join his father and daughter in the livingroom. The deviant father had made a habit of properly disinfecting each room of the house on a daily basis until was finally over, and he had just finished his rounds upstairs. "I don't want Hannah to be in pain."

"No parent ever does, son. But as for teething, well, it depends. It's different for everyone."

"And you're certain the teething ring is going to help?"

"Yup. Cole used to love to chew on his teddy bear teething ring or would just suckle on an icy cold washcloth. When Barb wasn't looking I'd slip him a cherry popsicle to chew on so he'd numb his mouth a little and have a little treat."

"Why keep a popsicle a secret from Barbara?"

"Sugar."

"Oh."

"One popsicle once in a while isn't a problem. One every day while their still developing their little teeth... Well, she wasn't wrong to worry."

"I've begun gently brushing her teeth in the morning and at night to ensure she doesn't develop an infection. Hannah seems to be taking well to it."

"Cool. One less difficult task to handle." Passing Hannah over to Connor to hold Hank stood up from the couch and stretched his back a little. "Alright, you finished cleaning upstairs and it's my turn to make dinner tonight."

"You're not going to make her macaroni and cheese again are you?"

"Why not? She loves it, it's soft enough for her to chew without hurting her mouth and it's easy to make."

"I'd prefer it if she had some variety to keep her interested in trying new food."

"Fair enough. I'll make her a fruit puree to eat, too."

"That's acceptable." As Connor held Hannah against his hip, a motion that Hank had showed him to use as a means of carrying her around while also keep one arm free so he could multitask. Carrying Hannah about Connor noted that her pain seemed to cease entirely, she wasn't feverish and her dark hair was a little longer. "Perhaps I should take Tina's advice and pull your hair back so it doesn't get in your eyes, Hannah."

Gently placing Hannah down in the hexagonal playpen in the middle of the livingroom floor, one that had a soft play-mat for Hannah to crawl over and a dozen of her stuffed animals and soft foam alphabet blocks scattered about, Connor let her alone to play as he made his way to the ground floor bathroom to get a few items to take care of her hair.

Sumo was laying in the corner of the livingroom on his pillow and watching Hannah protectively as she began to crawl about and play with her toys. With his tail wagging the loyal dog watched the baby of the family and seemed to know that if Connor or Hank weren't in the room then Hannah was his responsibility.

Opening the small cabinet beneath the sink in the bathroom Connor located Hannah's soft hair brush and two hair ties that he could use to pull Hannah's growing dark hair back into two neat pigtails.

"I wonder if-" A loud cry of pain made Connor stand up quickly as his developing paternal instincts told him to check in on Hannah and do it immediately. That cry was different from any previous cry he had heard before. It was as if Hannah were scared and in pain at the same time. "Hannah?!"

Upon his return to the livingroom Connor saw that Hannah was sitting down on the floor crying loudly and had a streak of fresh blood on her head and face just above her left eye. Closing examination showed that the plastic gate for the play area wasn't close properly and Hannah had somehow bumped her head on the sharp corner of the coffee table.

"Hannah..." Scooping her up from the floor Connor gave her a firm but gentle hug as a tremendous guilt settled in his heart. "I'm so sorry!"

"What happened?" Hank asked as he joined Connor in the livingroom after turning off the stove in the kitchen.

"She's bleeding." Turning so Hank could see the fresh cut on Hannah's forehead Connor looked like he was about to cry too. "She's hurt! Hannah is hurt because I-"

"Easy, son." With a ginger touch Hank checked the raw cut on Hannah's forehead and sighed slowly. "It isn't too serious, but she will need a few stitches."

"Stitches?!"

"Whoa, whoa... Easy!" Reacting appropriately Hank took Hannah from Connor since he was so worked up and began rubbing her back in a soothing manner as she clung onto his shirt and continued to cry. "Connor, you need to be calm for Hannah's sake."

"But she-"

"It was an accident, son." Pointing to the smear of blood on the corner of the table Hank gave Connor a knowing look. "She just banged her head on the coffee table. All kids bump their heads, scrape their knees and fall down."

"...I should've-"

"Stop it. You can't watch her literally every second of her life." Hannah was quieting down as Hank tended to her and rubbed her back. "Look at the gate. It popped open. Did you or me forget to lock it?"

"No, we-" Scanning over the gate Connor saw the manufacturing defect in the plastic hinges and found the cause of the accident. "...The gate was improperly sealed upon production."

"See? Not your fault."

Realizing his mistake wasn't even his to bear Connor felt a little easier and looked over at Hannah in Hank's arms. "...You said she'd need stitches?"

"Yup. When Cole was four he tripped and bumped his head on the corner of the stereo system, and he ended up with four stitches for his troubles. Don't worry, he didn't get a scar and I know Hannah won't either."

"I'm not worried about a scar."

"Uh-huh. You're worried about being judged as a parent." Looking at Hannah's face as she stopped crying Hank used his thumb to softly wipe away Hannah's tears and then wiped away a smear of her blood to keep it from getting in her eye. "Want me to take her in to get taken care of?"

"No. I'll do it." Taking Hannah back from Hank's arms Connor sighed and ran a scan over the wound. It wasn't a large cut but it was deep. "I'm so sorry, Hannah. But I'll make sure you get better."

Putting his hands to his hips Hank watched as Connor carried Hannah upstairs so he could put a temporary bandage over her head and then get her dressed up in her winter clothing to keep her warm as he drove her to the hospital. "That kid doesn't realize how good of a father he really."


Feeling nervous and like he was being judged Connor sat in the waiting room with Hannah on his lap and did his best to ignoring the staring eyes as he finally combed back her hair and put her dark locks into two neat pigtails at the sides of her head. Hannah wasn't crying anymore and seemed more interested in chewing on her teething ring and playing with her stuffed white kitty toy than anything else.

The moment Connor and Hannah were called in to meet with the pediatrician the young father carried his daughter up against his chest and proceeded to tell the doctor the whole story. Afterward he relayed Hannah's medical history with perfect detail and made sure she didn't move as the doctor numbed the area on Hannah's forehead to begin applying her two necessary stitches.

"It's okay, Mr. Anderson." Smiling at Connor's demeanor the kind doctor tried to reassure the deviant with a sincere voice. "I recognize the typical bumps and bruises of kids being kids. I know you didn't harm your daughter."

"I still feel so guilty."

"Most parents do." Applying the first stitch the doctor smiled at Hannah and let her know she was being an excellent patient. "The fact that you care so much tells me that you do in fact love your daughter and would never hurt her."

"No, never. There's no reason to ever intentionally injure a defenseless child."

"So how'd she bump her head on the table? Was she looking for a toy?"

"I'm not sure. I was in another room and she had escaped her playpen."

"Well, my own daughter did something similar. She got out of her playpen and she went to grab her ball after it rolled under the kitchen table. She bumped her head on the kitchen counter and knocked herself down."

"Was she alright?"

"Oh, yeah. She just scared herself and had a small bump for a few days. I called her my sweet little unicorn."

Watching as Hannah took the second stitch without any problems Connor's felt less tense and picked her up from the treatment table to hold against his chest again. "You'll be just fine in two weeks, Hannah."

"Here." Placing a bright purple band-aid over Hannah's stitches the doctor smiled and offered her a grape flavored baby-safe lollipop. "You were a wonderful patient, Hannah. You did so good!"

Smiling at her praise and her treat Hannah showed no sign of ill will after getting her stitches.

"Come on, Hannah." Replacing her coat Connor gave her a small kiss on her cheek and carried her out of the treatment room. "Let's go home."


The moment Connor and Hannah returned home Hank was waiting with dinner ready and strawberry popsicle waiting for his granddaughter. Unwilling to say no after Hannah was hurt that evening Connor let Hank give Hannah the popsicle and proceeded to wait for her to finish her second treat for the evening before trying to get her to eat her dinner.

Leaning over the back of the couch Hank watched the duo and shook his head a little. "Connor, stop worrying."

"I can't help it." The young father admitted as he sat Hannah down on the livingroom floor beside him as she continued to play with her kitty toy, her lips now pink from the popsicle. Working on the plastic gate Connor fixed the loose hinge and made sure it wouldn't pop open again. "I wasn't watching her and she got her. I'm supposed to protect her."

"And I told you that kids are going to get hurt so matter how much we try to-" Hank stopped suddenly as his eyes focused on Hannah entirely. "Connor. Look."

Curious about what caught Hank's attention Connor looked over at Hannah beside him and saw that Hannah was now standing up all on her own and using the very coffee table that had hurt her for balance and stability.

"...Hannah." The sight of the seven month old showing enough strength and dexterity to stand up on her down made Connor's eyes go wide with absolute shock. "You're standing!"

"So THAT'S how she bumped her head. She tried to stand up on her."

"...I don't understand."

"Understand what? Her hitting her milestones right on schedule?"

"No..." Putting his left hand on Hannah's back Connor felt himself smiling at the sight of his daughter growing up healthy and happily. "Why I'm so... proud of her. This isn't something unique to just her and was to be expected. Why do I feel this way? Proud."

"It's called being a father, son." Smirking at Connor's reaction, noting how symbolic it was that Connor was learning more about humans by being a father and steadily becoming more 'grown-up' as Hannah grew-up alongside him, Hank felt the same swelling of pride. "When Cole stood up all by himself I was over the moon and Barbara couldn't take enough pictures of him."

"So what I'm feeling is normal?"

"Yup. Everything that's happening is meant to happen."

Kneeling beside Hannah as she leaned against the coffee table Connor took her hands in his own and let her use his hands to lean against so she could continue to stand up all on her own. "...Then I guess getting small bumps and bruises along the way make it all worth while."

"Yeah, you got it, son. That's what growing-up and being a father is all about."

-next chapter-