Owen keeps a careful ear out as he washes the dishes. That horrible cough echoes through the baby monitor app on his phone. TK's had it since he woke up from his nap this afternoon. Owen gave him some medicine but considering he still played fine and didn't have a fever, he didn't think much of it. Yet, it continued through dinner and bathtime. Owen can't give him more medicine until morning. Luckily, that's when Owen's scheduled an appointment for his son.

He settles the last of the load into dishwasher and wipes his hands onto a rag. There's another raspy cough, followed by some giggles. In the midst of the sound machine and lullaby tape, he hears his baby boy's voice.

"Buttercup, more kissies!"

Owen grabs his phone and expects to see TK leaning through the bars of his crib to pet his dog. Instead, he finds Buttercup in TK's crib. He quickly drops his phone and darts up to the nursery.

TK lays in his monkey themed crib. His voice is still congested as he continues to laugh. Buttercup is leaning over him, licking his face. The dog's large frame leans against the bars.

"Buttercup," Owen's voice is firm. "Get out of there."

"Daddy, Buttercup is giving me kisses."

"I know he is, but your crib isn't big enough for the two of you. We've been over this before."

Owen knows that Buttercup would never intentionally hurt TK. He's far too sweet for that. However, TK's crib is big enough for just him. Maybe if Buttercup was a smaller dog, it'd be different. As it is, if he got spooked, he could scratch TK or even nip him.

Owen lowers the bars. "Down, boy." Buttercup sits at the edge of the crib, whimpering. TK leans over and wraps his arms around his dog's neck. Owen shakes his head. "Buttercup can sleep right here." He gestures to the dog bed set up on the floor. "He only goes there, my bed or your big boy bed. No cribs."

TK pouts, sniffling. "But Daddy…"

"No buts. Buttercup. Down."

Buttercup remains still. TK kisses his nose.

"S'okay, Cup. You lay in your bed."

Buttercup licks his cheek twice more before jumping out of the crib. TK gathers his three favorite stuffed animals. Heaven knows the boy has quite a few, but these are the ones he always has. PB goes everywhere, naturally. He also can't sleep without Spot, the Dalmatian that Gwyn got him when he graduated the fire academy. The other he'll never part with is a near replica of Buttercup, named Cuppy, of course. TK picked him out at the toy store as a reward for being a very good boy.

"See," Owen says as his son settles back down. "You can cuddle Cuppy while Buttercup sleeps right here." He pulls the covers back up and takes in the little boy's face. It's flush. His cheeks and nose are chapped from all the coughing and snot. "How are you feeling, Monkey?"

"Stuffy," TK says with a frown. "Throat tickles."

"My poor bubba." Owen pushes some hair out of his face. Forehead still isn't warm. "Do you wanna lay in Daddy's bed?"

TK shakes his head. "Want my crib."

"Okay. You try to get some sleep, alright? And you have your sippy with water?" TK points to the full cup next to his pillow. Owen slides the pacifier clipped to his pajamas back in his mouth. "That's my boy."

Owen double checks that the vaporizer is still on before pulling up the bars to the crib. He kisses the top of TK's head.

"Night, Monkey. Let me know if you need anything."

"'Kay, Daddy," TK mutters as he shuts his eyes and cuddles his stuffies. "Love you."

"I love you more." Owen glances down at Buttercup. The big dog is leaning against the crib. "You keep an eye on the baby, okay?" He scratches him behind the ears and walks out of the room.

Owen jolts out of his sleep to the sound of crashing. He feels around in the dark for his phone. It's 11:30. Flipping to the baby monitor app, he finds a sleeping TK…with Buttercup back in the crib.

Groaning, he gets out of bed and heads down the hall. Quietly opening the door, he whispers out to the dog.

"Buttercup." The dog doesn't move. He makes his whisper harsher. "Buttercup. Down." Still nothing.

Owen lets out a frustrated sigh and creeps into the nursery. He snaps his fingers and points to the floor.

"Down."

Buttercup moves closer to TK and rests his head on his chest. Owen's mouth drops open.

"Maybe you won't be able to sleep in here any more," he mutters.

Usually, Buttercup will try to get in the crib but only needs to be redirected once. What is going on with him tonight?

Owen reaches down to gently grab his collar. His arm brushes against TK's forehead. Immediately, he forgets about the dog and focuses on his son. TK is burning up.

In the glow of the nightlight, Owen can see his face has gotten paler. In his sleep, he lets out a very raspy cough, causing his pacifier to fall.

Owen dashes back down to his room and recovers the thermometer. Once back in the nursery, he finds Buttercup hasn't moved. Owen gently scans the thermometer against TK's head.

103.2

"This is what you were trying to tell me?" Owen asks Buttercup. The dog merely licks TK's chest. "Oh, boy…"

Owen pulls down the bars and gently lifts TK into his arms. The three stuffies fall onto the bedding. His son stirs, resting his hot forehead in his neck.

"Dada?" TK slurs.

"Shhh, Monkey. We're just gonna go for a little ride, okay?"

Owen scoops up PB, Spot and Cuppy, tucking them in TK's grasp. He adjusts his son and looks at Buttercup.

"We'll be back, buddy. Don't worry."

TK is a whining wreck as Owen bounces him on his knee. It's nearly 1 AM and they were finally called back. TK slept through the waiting process but now he's wide awake, coughing and cranky. The little one is still in his Paw Patrol footie pajamas, wearing a sweatshirt over them.

The curtain pushes back and for a moment, Owen is surprised the doctor is already here, but instead, Tommy walks through. Owen smiles, bouncing his knee more.

"Look, Monkey, Aunt Tommy's here!"

TK rubs at his eyes, clinging to his daddy with one hand and his stuffies in the other. "Auntie Tom'mee."

"That's right, precious," she coos softly. "I heard my favorite little firefighter was here and I had to come visit."

"Wanna go home."

"I'm sure you do. This isn't much fun, huh?" TK shakes his head. "But a doctor is going to be with you soon and they'll make you feel all better."

TK slips his pacifier in. "Ride in am'bwuwance," he makes out.

"Ambulances only drop off at hospitals, remember? Besides, you look very cozy with your daddy."

TK pouts. Owen nervously looks over at Tommy.

"I should've brought him here sooner. He seemed fine. No fever. Now…"

"If he was fine then, you would've wasted your time," Tommy interrupts. "These things happen, you know? At least you caught it."

"Only because of Buttercup," Owen mumbles. "If he hadn't woken me, it would've gotten worse. Only less than one degree and he could've had a sei…"

"But he didn't," Tommy shakes her head, discreetly pointing to TK. "He's right here and he'll be just fine. Likely, it's RSV."

Owen frowns. "I thought only babies got that."

"Adults can too, especially Littles. They're more vulnerable to these things."

TK whimpers. Tommy's walkie mumbles something from her belt. She sighs.

"I gotta go."

"I appreciate you checking in," Owen says.

"Not a problem. I'll get a doctor back here for you." She waves to TK. "Bye, baby. You feel better."

"Bye bye," he whispers, putting a wet cough into his arm.

Owen watches her leave. Luckily, they have another 24 hours off. If needed, Owen will take some sick time to care for his baby. He truly hopes that isn't needed. TK looks so pitiful when he's ill. Clearly in so much pain, but Owen can't do much to help.

Truly the worst part of being a father. Watching your baby in pain and knowing you can't take it away.

Tommy was right. The doctor diagnoses TK with RSV. After feeding him a fever reducer, they're allowed to go home, with a doctor's note that will grant them a day off work. That'll leave them with the rest of the week as well, given the 24 hour on, 48 off shift schedule. Plenty of time for TK to recuperate.

Owen schedules for the medicine to be delivered the second the pharmacy opens. By the time they're home, it's nearly 2. TK has been in and out of sleep since. Owen brings him straight to his room. Even if TK is in an older space these next few days, he's not leaving his dad's bed. Owen won't risk not seeing the signs again.

Buttercup waits for them as they walk in. Owen lays TK beside him before littering the stuffies on his son's chest. He scratches Buttercup's ears.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Buttercup licks his hand and returns his attention to TK. Owen collapses beside his son, cuddling him close. He doesn't sleep until TK has for over an hour. Owen listens to his congested breathing. Each one hurts his heart more than the last.

Owen carries a tray into his room the next morning. TK is awake, leaning against Buttercup.

"Morning, Monkey," Owen says. "How are we feeling?"

"Yuck," TK mumbles.

"I'm sure." He kisses his forehead . Warm, but not nearly as bad as last night. Owen sets up the tray and waves his hand around. "Toast with applesauce and cinnamon, plus berries." Owen holds up a sippy cup. "And can't forget my little monkey's peanut butter and banana smoothie."

For once, the mention of his favorite drink doesn't perk TK up.

"Not hungry."

"I know, but you can't take your medicine on an empty stomach."

"No medicine!" TK declares, coughing into his arm. "It's yucky!"

Owen sighs. "Baby, you took some at the hospital last night."

"No medicine!" TK repeats, clutching PB. "Don't want it."

Tears fall down his chapped cheeks. Owen sits beside him and gently rubs them away.

"How about you at least drink the smoothie for Daddy? Then I'll get some aquaphor for these poor cheeks."

TK sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve. Owen gently redirects him to a tissue. "No medicine?"

"We won't talk about that right now. Can you drink the smoothie for me?"

TK reluctantly picks up the cup and takes a long sip. Owen turns to the side and carefully prepares the liquid syringe. He waits until TK takes a break from the smoothie to put it to his lips. His son whimpers, trying to close them.

"If you take this, I'll make you another smoothie," Owen promises.

TK is still for a moment. He keeps his mouth shut, staring at the liquid.

"I can't promise it won't be yucky," Owen says. "But it'll be all over, 2 seconds. Then you'll have your second smoothie."

TK reluctantly opens his mouth. Owen takes the opportunity and squirts it in. A little dribbles down TK's chin. Owen is quick to wipe it away. TK blows a raspberry and washes the taste off his tongue with the remainder of the smoothie.

"Yucky, Daddy. That's not nice."

Owen chuckles. "I'm sorry, Monkey. I know it's not your favorite. But you did so good, my very brave boy. Daddy is so proud."

Owen grabs the aquaphor from the table and rubs it against his palms. He gently massages it on TK's bright pink cheeks and nose. Owen is obsessed with lotion and moisturizer for himself. He's even more serious with TK. Owen has just about every baby lotion and cream to keep his skin nice and smooth. Back in New York, TK's face was always so chapped due to the cold. Owen spent many a night tending to it.

Some things never change.

TK gazes up at his dad, sniffling and shivering a little. "Chilly, Dada."

"Here, let's get you another blankie."

Owen moves the tray, hoping he'll attempt the toast later. At least the smoothie is in him and he's agreed to drink one more. Owen's snuck some protein in there. It'll keep him from tossing his medicine.

He lays another throw on top of the duvet. Buttercup comes closer and lays her head on TK's lap. The little one places the plushie replica on his head, cuddling PB and Spot. Owen discreetly takes a picture.

This may be an exhausting and scary time, but he's never been more thankful for a dog.