32. Night

"After you were born, it took you four months to smile at me. That's when the clock started ticking." Henry Spencer

It was nearly two in the morning and the last thing Henry was in the mood to be doing when he had to be up in three hours was trying to get his colicky son to fall asleep.

Four months. Four endless months of screaming and crying and dirty diapers, and he still looked at his son and wondered if he'd ever really feel like a father. He knew he was supposed to love the kid, but he didn't know if he knew how. What if he was incapable of loving his own son? What did that say about him? Maddie would figure it out sooner or later, because she figured everything out sooner or later. How would she react to knowing that he was having trouble feeling anything for Shawn?

Shawn's cries had quieted to little whimpers, but his face was still red and screwed up like he could start wailing again at any second. Henry shifted his grip and rocked him, pacing as well as he could in the small nursery. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with his wife, but his son's eyes were scrunched tightly closed and his mouth was falling open and Henry could feel him tense and inhale deeply.

Suddenly feeling more than a little frantic, Henry started singing. It was the theme to some sitcom he didn't know the name of instead of a lullaby and he couldn't remember half the words, but Shawn immediately stilled and stared up at him. Encouraged, Henry kept singing, repeating the short theme over and over, making up his own lyrics when the real ones didn't come. Shawn was still staring at him, his eyes wide, and he made a happy sort of mewling sound before beaming a wide, toothless smile at his father.

Henry felt a small kick low in his gut and slowly, very slowly, a smile crept across his face. He stroked a finger down a downy soft cheek. "Do that again, kid."

Shawn gurgled and snuggled closer, his small mouth still curved in a soft smile. Henry carefully pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and inhaled his unique baby scent. Shawn's little body felt heavier in his arms and his breathing had slowed. Henry marveled at his tiny son and held him a little closer. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

"You want me to take over, Henry?" Madeleine was leaning against the nursery doorframe, wrapped in a robe. Her voice was groggy and her eyes were still puffy with sleep, but she was smiling and had an arm half lifted to take Shawn from him. Henry looked back at his son and sat down in the rocker.

"Nah, I've got him, Maddie. Go back to sleep. I'm going to stay here for a little longer and make certain he doesn't wake back up."

It was nearly two in the morning and the last thing Henry was in the mood to be doing was sitting in a hospital room waiting for his son-his idiot son who just couldn't leave things well enough alone to the point where getting shot was almost becoming a regular occurrence-to regain consciousness. The chairs were uncomfortable, the coffee was crap, and everything was so blindingly white. Henry drank his coffee and reread the same paragraph in his book for the tenth time, trying not to think about how close he'd come to losing Shawn.

"Da'?" Shawn slurred. Henry dropped his book on the end of the bed and hit the call button for a nurse.

"Welcome back, kid. You're an idiot, you know that?"

Shawn's eyes were drifting in and out of focus and his smile was groggy, and there was that little kick in Henry's gut again. Shawn was looking around the room, but Henry knew he wasn't really seeing it. "'m back in…hos'pal 'gain? "

Henry cleared his throat and settled back more comfortably in his chair. "That is where they usually take you when you go and get yourself shot, Shawn." Shawn nodded, his head swinging loosely around in Henry's direction.

"Brenda here? She's m'fa'rite nurse. Very…pretty. Good a' sponge baths."

Henry thought his son was probably trying to leer, but the meds must have been numbing the muscles in his face, because he didn't know how to describe the look on Shawn's face. "I'll be sure to fill out a request form," he said dryly. Shawn nodded again and flopped back against his pillows.

"You gonna yell a' me now?"

"Nah, kid, not until you're lucid enough to understand what I'm yelling at you for."

Shawn's eyes had already slid closed again and he looked on the verge of falling back asleep, but he hummed happily. "Tha's nice o' you. Love you too, da'."

Henry snorted and a corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. "Now I really know you're out of it. Just sleep, kid. I'll be here when you wake up."

Kristin: This chapter's for melanie, who asked me to be nice to Henry. I think this counts as nice. Mostly. Ah, more proof that I'm horribly easy as long as you toss a little flattery my way. Thank you! ;)

In other unrelated news, I adore Icy Hot. One of my friends just turned me on to tennis and we spent about three hours on the court on Monday. I run regularly, but that wasn't near enough to prepare me for the strain. I'm so sore in a strangely awesome, relaxing way.

PeanutTree-Thank you! I have something I was writing for Lassie that just wasn't working that I think would be a lot better with Vick, so if it comes together the way I'm hoping, it should be up tomorrow or Friday. "eggs still on the tail" *shudders* EWWW! That is SO not right. Oh, poor Lassie. He tries so hard.

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