Jake's breathing was slow and untroubled, the imperfect pattern of sleep. It was too dark to see anything except a faintly green sticker on the doorframe, a glow-in-the-dark decoration from one of the girls. No numbers shone from a clock; Jack had insisted on one that didn't glare neon. It was audible, though, and the ticks came as steady as Jake's breath. Normal. Comforting. In fact, Avery couldn't understand why he'd woken up in the first place.
But where was Jack?
Where was Jack? He wasn't in the bed, and no lights spilled from the hall to signal a bathroom visit. Before he could help it, Avery's stomach knotted and turned to lead. Unfounded, of course, and a boyish fear he should have outgrown, but still. Where was Jack?
Avery notices that he's standing, and is embarrassed at himself. Well, maybe he'll just see. No harm in seeing, right? Anyway, he's curious. Jack should be in bed.
Before he's made up his mind completely to do so, Avery's in the hallway, walking carefully so as not to wake Jake. And just as the worry flares up again, thick in his throat, Avery notices the nursery door. It's shut, and they don't normally shut it. After all, what if the baby wakes up and they need to hear her?
What if the baby had woken up, and only Jack had heard?
Avery pushes the door open and sighs with relief. The nightlight glows through a South African shell and Jack sits in the rocking chair next to it, making faces at a giggling Elle suspended in the air. Jack notices Avery and widens his eyes at their sleepy smiling girl. "Look!" Jack is addressing her, not Avery, and Avery grins. "There's Daddy!"
Jack lowers his arms and cradles Elle to his bare chest. He moves as if to stand, but Avery steps closer instead. Jack hands Elle to him, and Avery clutches her carefully as he clambers over the footrest to sit in Jack's lap. Jack's arms come around him and they begin to rock. Avery's holding and being held and it's almost perfect, missing only the man sleeping in the next room and the girl presumably asleep as well somewhere downstairs. It's a part of perfect, though, and Avery's still flooded with relief that Jack isn't gone. Better than not gone, he's fathering.
The chair rocks Elle to sleep, safe with two daddies. Avery kisses her and holds her out for Jack to kiss too before tucking her back into the bassinet. Jack's eyes are unreadable, and Avery watches his back shift when he leans to turn out the light.
They pause in the doorway. "Hey," Jack murmurs, touching Avery's back lightly. "I love you." From where Avery's standing he can see to the bedroom, the lump of Jake's legs stirring slightly. He can see Elle's tiny fingers curl into her tiny palm. See Jack.
"I know."
He does.
"I love you too."
He does.
"Let's go back to bed."
They do.