Emergency Medical Dad

LVIII: october, present

"Jessie, Jessie, Jessie," he mumbles into my shoulder, picking me up with the grip around my back, pulling our bodies as close as they can between layers of jacket and shirts and sleeves. I cling to him like he's my whole life force and he lets me, hugging right back with just as much fervor.

He breaks the few seconds of silence, "how's Connor? Is he okay? Have you iced his eye?"

"I have, yeah," I nod into his shoulder.

"And they haven't done anything else to him, right?"

"Not that I know of," I manage.

He pulls back, reaching to cup my face in his big hands, touching all over my cheeks, tilting my head to the left, then to the right, checking me all over. "You look so stressed, Jessie-"

I nod, leaning my cheek into his hand, letting him cradle my head in his big palm.

"Are you doing okay? I've only been hearing about Conn, what about you?"

I swallow, "money is still tight, though you're able to put in more from up north, my job is-" he puts his thumb over my lips, warm with rough skin that somehow feels gentle against mine.

"Tell me the truth." His voice is gentle but the words are a command, pulling honesty straight out of my gut and onto my tongue.

"The truth?" I look up at him. "I'm doing shit."

His lips pop open, slightly shocked at the swear.

"Very, very, shit, and Connor is scaring me and- and- I just- the office cut down on hours and so I've been getting less time and that's not good so we're barely scraping by here at home but it's... I'm so stressed."

"Come inside," he gestures back at the building. "We have- we should talk it all over and I have... I have ideas."

He takes my hand, forefinger and middle finger brushing across my palm before tentatively lacing between the very tips of my fingers. His hand is dazzlingly warm against the cold night, gentle, slipping his other two fingers into the tangle, then closing it, locking our hands together.

I take comfort in having to stand close to him to keep our hands laced, more comfort in the elevator when I'm able to set my head on the swell of his shoulder and close my eyes for just a moment.

He leads me down the hallway, passing by a room that erupts in laughter as we make our way along the carpet.

"Dumb boys," he shakes his head. "We've got a game tomorrow and it's really too late for them to be playing video games."

"Those were-" I glance back at the door.

"Yeah, Steph, Fen, Greenie, Rocket, Håkon, and their new adopted Finn, Fidan," he slides his key into the slot and then pulls it back out again, the door clicking. "We get most of the floor, boys together, coaches and travel staff at the end. That's me."

"...fancy."

He pushes the door open and lets me inside, following afterward and flicking on the lights. I kick off my shoes and let him take a little longer with his.

It feels... daunting. The silence. The alone time. The hotel room. The fact that we haven't seen each other in weeks and he comes back in a black collared shirt under a coat, tucked into dress pants. I'd only seen him dressed up once before and that was Peter's wedding, a much different occasion.

He turns around to me, coat off, sleeves rolled up over his forearms.

His dark eyes trace over me, analyzing what's in front of him, stuttering to a stop on my fidgeting fingers, on a spot just under my chin, my chewed lips, one of my ears, my hair. He logs all of it somewhere in that head of his and it keeps me on edge, noticing things about him as well, the warmth back in his cheeks, the weight on his shoulders, the way he appears to have toned down again, muscle visible from most angles, the softness in his cheeks and under his jaw is gone almost completely but it looks healthy. He looks healthy.