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Post by ry on Aug 20, 2008 15:01:30 GMT -5
Words formed in his mouth but his lips stayed firmly pressed, his russet eyes transfixed on the incubator. He would have loved to tear his eyes away, focus anywhere but the mass of delicate skin and wires, but his feet were rooted to the spot and no matter how much he wanted to be anywhere but here, here was exactly where he was going to stay. If only she’d give him an excuse to leave, tell him he was a deadbeat from the get go, had been and always would be, no use trying to make up for it now, but she doesn’t say anything of the sort and he stayed put. At the same time, he doesn’t think he’d be able to force himself to leave if he wanted to, surprised to find that he doesn’t want to leave, that he wants to stay here and mentally will every breath into the little guy’s head, make him live. Guilt gnawed timidly at the bottom of his gut, and he couldn’t help but remember the fact that there was a time when he’d wished, prayed even, that somehow this kid business would work itself out without getting him involved. He just never expected it to work out like this. Deadbeat, sure, irresponsible, maybe, but Ryan was definitely not cruel. The wiring looks out of place, all across the little body, and he can’t help but wonder if that hurt, if all those wires were the equivalent of a cartload of bricks. He looked so tiny and sure, he didn’t think they used lead wires or anything, but it almost blew him away. Despite the anxiety prodding at the back of his mind, he tried to keep his distance, remain objective, removed. Because he knew he was only setting himself up for a world of hurt when if the baby lost his fight. He looks toward the monitor keeping watch over the vital signs, but the lines are all blurry and he gritted his teeth, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t see the point in standing here, watching the kid, waiting for something to happen. The logical part of him knew that no matter where he was, the same thing would happen as it would if he were right by the bedside. Yet, he couldn’t convince himself to make up some half assed excuse and flee the scene.
For the briefest of moments, Ry wished he’d snagged a lollipop for himself. He’d never been terribly fond of anything that sugary, he didn’t need to ruin his teeth, thank you, but the longing was there and he bit his lip to will it away. Perhaps the sterile atmosphere’s making him so anxious. The NICU lacked the sort of innocence Ry had always associated with children, the innocence that kept him far, far away from anything that hadn’t mastered the art of sitting up. These kids didn’t deserve to be here, they should be at home, hollering and keeping their parents up all night. He swallowed uneasily, his gaze hesitating between the child and Xzandr, not able to settle on just one of them. He almost wanted to laugh at the fact that it was only now he was terrified. Sure, before, when the prospect of becoming a father, as remote as he’d be, had scared the crap out of him, but this, this was pure fear. It wasn’t tainted by any selfish notions, and that’s what puzzled him. It would take a cold-hearted man to look at the child in the incubator and not care, just because he wanted to be a father, and Ry, though somewhat emotionally stunted, was not a cold man. Except, he didn’t just care, he really, really cared, as in the fact he wanted to find someone and make them do everything possible to ensure that the boy lived. It made him feel a little fake, as if every other emotion he’d felt in the past few months was the truth and this was some false feeling. The fact that it probably wouldn’t matter what he was feeling in a few hours, maybe a few days, did nothing to stop the feeling from overcoming him. He swallowed again, forgetting how to breathe, but finding the rhythm in the next moment. He needed distance, and to sit down but there were no other chairs nearby and he almost thought something would happen if he dared to move from his little square of safety next to Xzandr’s chair.
He stood, feeling a bit out of place. It wasn’t as if he’d imagined a moment when he’d ever step foot in such a setting, unless he’d somehow been forced into rounds that brought him about the NICU. He preferred to be able to communicate clearly with his patients. Brows rose and his mouth twisted downward into an uncertain frown as he watched her place the lollipop next to the child. He swallowed, saying nothing at her exclamation but noticing the size difference between the two anyway. He still couldn’t get over how small the infant was; he expected the poor thing to disappear into thin air or something. His heart flopped uneasily at the notion and he held back a sigh. The situation was not one he wanted to be in for much longer, but he was hoping the kid would stabilize completely, maybe get better, rather than the alternative. There wasn’t much else he could do here, he was pretty sure his shoulder wasn’t that comfortable to lean on, metaphorically or literally. Still, he didn’t want to leave. Not that he was comfortable here, he definitely wasn’t, but the thought of leaving Xzandr here to deal with this on her own, giving her yet another reason to hate him was not sitting well with him at all.
Olive eyes flickered to her face, almost startled by her voice. The words she spoke made his heart clench and he bit his lip, turning his gaze back to the baby. The fragility of the kid scared him, as if one touch would shatter him to pieces. Xzandr was right; nothing should be this small, fending for its own, or at least fighting for his life. While he might not be jumping at the chance for fatherhood, the thought of the boy dying made his breath catch in his throat. As a doctor, he’d been taught that all life was to be valued, and this one was no exception. “No, no it’s not,” he agreed, his voice soft. Somehow speaking at full volume seemed too indelicate, too crass. The monitors continued to beep, at least a reassurance, but Ry wasn’t paying much attention to the sound. His eyes stayed steady on the child, watching his chest rise and fall. His mouth opened as he moved to reassure Xzandr that they probably had him on a bunch of pain meds and the like, but he pressed his lips together and laid a firm hand on her shoulder, hoping that maybe she could glean just a little comfort from it where he lacked in words.
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