Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the sweet reviews. I really appreciate them and am quite happy (and surprised :)) to have collected so many.
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Tim watched Billy pretty closely over the next week and a half, searching for any signs of trouble, but he seemed okay. He was coming into work on time and getting things done. Tim stopped by the house at random times and it was clean and the kids looked good. Tim even casually asked if he wanted to go Christmas shopping, but Billy had said he'd already taken care of it.
Billy decided to close the garage for the two weeks of Christmas break, which made Tim happy, since it gave him more time to spend with Nicky and Al. Nicky had recently started smiling, laughing and grabbing things. The boy had a strong grip and a tendency to hang on, which Tim learned to his detriment the first time Nicky got a fistful of his hair.
A couple of days before Christmas, Tim heard Al get up around six to feed Nicky, then she went back to bed. When Tim woke up at nine, she was still sleeping, which was quite unusual for her. Nicky was awake in his crib, softly cooing, waving his arms and kicking his legs.
Tim went over to the crib and talked to Nicky softly. The baby stopped what he was doing and stared at Tim intently, perfectly still, before he broke out in a wide, drooly grin. A quick diaper change later and Tim was in the kitchen getting some cereal, which he took out into the living room. He put a blanket on the floor, placed Nicky on his belly in the middle of the blanket and then sat down on the floor to eat his cereal and watch his son.
Tim didn't understand how they could have 100 cable channels but he could still sit for hours and watch Nicky do baby push-ups or kick his legs around or chew on his hands. When he'd finished his cereal, Tim talked to Nicky, which was something he read about in one of the baby books Al got. He had to admit he felt a little silly the first couple of times he did it, but now it was just a habit.
Nicky began co-ordinating the movement of his arms and legs. It fascinated Tim, watching the baby try to figure out how his limbs worked. Within several minutes, Nicky managed to flip himself over. Tim held his breath for a second, afraid the baby had either hurt or startled himself, but then Nicky started to laugh and kick his legs.
"Good one, Nicky, Your first time rolling over. Nice," said Tim, picking the baby up to congratulate him. Nicky responded by grabbing a fistful of Tim's hair and trying to put it in his mouth. Tim deftly removed his hair from his son's grasp. In doing so, he noticed that Nicky was a little snuffley, like maybe he was getting a cold.
Tim put Nicky back on the floor on his belly and watched him go through the same process to flip himself over. Then Tim picked up a rattle and amused himself by getting Nicky to reach for it.
Al wandered into the living room, still wearing her pajamas. She sat down in the chair and smiled sleepily at Tim.
"There a reason you're sitting way over there? You're not wanting to have A Talk, are you?" he asked, trying to go for a joking tone but unable to hide the dread that A Talk would entail.
"Remember that cold I was fighting off for the last week or so?" asked Al, her voice gravelly, like a cough was stuck in her throat.
"Yeah?"
"Well, it won. You might want to stay clear for a few days."
Tim shrugged. "I've probably got your germs already. I thought Nicky seemed a little snuffley this morning."
"His appetite was fine – has he been fussy?"
"No, he's been pretty happy."
"Then he's probably just starting to come down with it. We'll have to keep an eye on him."
"Yeah...oh, hey, watch this," said Tim as he rolled Nicky over onto his belly. It took markedly less time for Nicky to roll onto his back.
Al grinned. "Won't be long now before he'll be zipping everywhere and we'll be struggling to keep up."
Tim often felt like he and Al had completely different ideas about time. He felt like it was going to take ages, a lifetime, until Nicky was old enough to take fishing or start playing football. It wasn't that Tim didn't love watching his baby try to make sense of the world. It was just that Tim couldn't wait to be able to do things with his son, to be a real Dad.
Nicky began to make the little whimpery sounds that meant he was hungry.
"Hand him here, please," said Al.
"I can make him a bottle," Tim replied.
"Why would you do that when I'm right here?"
Tim picked up Nicky and stood up carefully. "You're sick – is that really a good idea?"
"Yeah, as long as I'm not dehydrated. My immune system is already working on this cold and the antibodies will pass to him through the milk. It's like magic."
Tim handed Nicky over to Al, then leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to the store to get you some Gatorade. You need anything else?"
"Gatorade?"
"Yeah, so you don't get dehydrated."
Al smiled. "You're very sweet. Make sure it's the blue flavor."
Tim shuddered. "Why do you insist on drinking that crap? It looks like you're drinking antifreeze."
"Blue's my favorite color and my favorite flavor."
Tim grinned and shook his head. "Oh no, I am not having this discussion again. Blue is not a flavor."
Al picked up a pillow and tossed it at Tim, who caught it and dropped it on the couch. He thought about throwing it back, but he didn't want to risk breaking anything.
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By evening, Nicky's snuffling had turned into sneezing and coughing. Tim was worried about him. He was also worried about Al, who had pretty much spent the whole day either on the couch or in bed with a cough that sounded like a rattling screen door.
Tim spent the night in the rocker next to Nicky's crib, barely sleeping. Apart from a mild reaction to the shots he got at two-months, this was the first time the baby had been sick. Al had encouraged Tim to go to sleep in the bed like a normal person, the crib was right in their room, after all, but Tim felt better being right next to Nicky.
The baby probably got more sleep than Tim that night, which wasn't saying much. In the morning, they were both cranky and miserable. Tim was exhausted and Al insisted he take a nap that afternoon, that she would watch Nicky.
The nap left Tim feeling groggy. He went into the living room and sat on the couch next to Al, who was holding Nicky.
"How was your nap?" asked Al.
"Good. How are you two doing? Feeling any better?" Tim rubbed his eyes and yawned.
"I'm about the same and Nicky's maybe gotten a bit worse. He's very fussy but the good news is he's still eating and doesn't seem lethargic." As if to illustrate the point, Nicky kicked his legs, solidly catching Tim in the ribs.
Tim gently took Nicky from Al and held him up. The baby's eyes were bright and clear but his nose was running. Tim repositioned Nicky in the crook of his arm, then reached over and got a tissue. When he was wiping Nicky's nose, his hand brushed the baby's cheek and he was surprised by how warm he felt.
"Al, is it just me, or does he feel awfully warm?"
Al leaned down and pressed her cheek against Nicky's forehead. "Yeah, he does seem maybe a bit warm. Here, let me go take his temperature."
She took the baby from Tim and left the room, returning several minutes later, sitting back down next to Tim. "He has a little fever all right – it's about 100 degrees."
"Should we take him to the doctor?" asked Tim.
"No, he's fine for right now. In fact, he probably better off here than in a waiting room full of sick kids. I gave him some Tylenol and we can give him a lukewarm bath if he seems uncomfortable. But unless he gets really fussy or stops eating, the doctor's pretty much going to tell you what I just did."
Tim felt jittery and uneasy. "Maybe we should at least call the doctor."
Al sighed. "If it's going to make you feel better, knock yourself out. I think it's funny though, that you suddenly want to call the doctor when the last time we were there, you wanted to deck him."
"It wasn't the doctor I was pissed at, it was those damn shots and how they made Nicky scream. That was horrible, standing there, watching someone hurt him and not being able to do anything about it." Just the memory of it upset Tim all over again. He stood up and went into the bedroom, where he'd left his phone.
After calling the doctor, he returned to the living room.
"Well?" asked Al.
Tim gave her a bashful smile. "Yeah, he said everything you said."
"This isn't my first rodeo, you know?" Al nudged him in the ribs and then leaned against him.
"Yeah, I know," said Tim quietly. "How are you doing with all that? It's nearly Christmas Eve."
Tim couldn't help but remember their first Christmas Eve together, which was also Avery's birthday and had sent Al into a self-destructive spiral.
"I've been thinking about her a lot, ever since Nicky was born. Wondering what she would have been like. She'd just be turning nine. I think she would have liked being a big sister."
Tim nodded and squeezed Al's hand. He never quite knew what to say about Avery, so he just listened as Al told him about the handful of fevers Avery had during her short life.
Before Tim knew it, it was dinner time, then Nicky's bed time. They both slept better that night, but Nicky was still feverish in the morning. The couple of days leading up to Christmas were a blur for Tim and he was reminded, when Al mentioned on Christmas Eve that Billy and the kids would be coming over in the late afternoon for dinner, that he hadn't talked to Billy in a few days. Tim felt bad about that, but his attention and focus needed to be on his immediate family right now. He'd see Billy the next day and everything would be fine.