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Nighttime in Dallas is a whole different experience than it is in Boston, Tyler learns this quickly. Everything is different in Dallas. Not like that's a bad thing, just ...an adjustment.
Jamie Benn micromanaging him every second of the day and night is a serious adjustment. Unless Tyler is in Jamie's physical presence, then he receives regular texts of 'whatcha doing' and 'what are ya up to?'
It wouldn't be so bad if Tyler wasn't so hung up on Jamie. Everything Jamie does is equal parts annoying and endearing. He appreciates the extra care that Jamie gives him, he really does. It's just hard for him to tell if Jamie does it because he's told to, or if he wants to.
He thinks Jamie does it for his own good as much as Tyler's. Management put Tyler here in this apartment building, two doors down from Jamie, with full intentions of having him live under Jamie's thumb. Jamie knows when Tyler stays up until 3am drinking expensive red wine and listening to sad country music, (too often.) He knows when Tyler needs the security guard to help him to his apartment, (less often.) He knows all of Tyler's routines. He even knows what Tyler's foot steps sneaking down the hall at the crack of dawn sound like.
Morning is the only decent time for an outside run in sweltering Dallas. Tyler figured that out pretty fast. The thing he has yet to competely figure out, is how to get a certain J. Benn to fuck off and let him run by himself. Far too many times a bleary eyed, shoes barely tied, yawning Jamie has tumbled out of his own apartment as Tyler tried to slip by to go for a run.
Tyler has made some poor decisions, but he is an adult who can handle himself during a casual jog around the city. However, stealth has never been Tyler's forte.
He must be getting the hang of it finally, because this makes two mornings in a row that he has picked Marshall up in his arms and tip-toed past Jamie's door. Normally, Marshall's nails or Tyler's running shoes on the marble floor give them away. The last two mornings however, Tyler has tucked his shoes into the back of his shorts and scooped Marshall up to carry him to the elevator.
He sets Marshall down and gives an exuberant fist pump when the doors snick closed. Marshall yips excitedly and wiggles around Tyler's knees for the ride. Tyler shoves his feet into the shoes just as the elevator doors chime and glide open.
Marshall attempts to make a run for it, but comes up short at the end of his leash as they step out of the elevator. This both gags him and jerks Tyler's shoulder enough to make him wince. Tyler shakes out his shoulder and rubs Marshall's head soothingly as the dog hacks and coughs.
“Serves you right, you dumb boy.” Tyler croons, smoothing his palms over Marshall's ears. Marshall then leads them forward much more carefully and at a more reasonable pace.
Their run usually maps across about 8 miles in a loop back to the apartment building. Today however, it's being cut short to about 5 miles. Tyler has to be at the arena and leave with the team no later than noon, and he still needs to pack.
They fall into an easy and familiar jog. Marshall is always a step behind, trusting that he can follow Tyler with his eyes mostly closed as he sniffs the morning air. For all that Tyler complains about living in Jamie's pocket, he also supposes that it is the same thing with them, metaphorically.
Jamie allows Tyler to follow along with his eyes mostly shut and just, trust. He can trust Jamie to guide him, to help him navigate through the next couple years. To keep him from running into metaphorical fire hydrants, telephone poles, or worse, bolt out in front of a speeding car.
Marshall keeps right on Tyler's heels the same way they Tyler trails after Jamie. Technically, Tyler only had to live in the same apartment building as Jamie for a year. Now that he's in his second season with Dallas he supposes he could move. He is surprised by how much he hates the idea of moving. The thought of being farther than a couple doors down makes something in his chest ache and his stomach flip. Sometimes even two doors is too far.
He doesn't want to admit how many times he slept over at Jamie's. Tyler isn't exactly an independent sort of guy. He needs buddies, always has. Times when his anxiety gets the best of him, he needs someone to help settle him down. Jamie, ever giving and understanding, has never turned him away. Even when he gently knocks on the door at 1 in the morning, a breath away from lonely tears, Jamie has always bumped the door open wide for him. Always allowed Tyler to flop down on the couch, always brought him a clean blanket and a pillow off his own bed.
If Tyler had still been in in Boston, he'd have pounded on Marchy's door until it opened. Sometimes it took more than 45 minutes of pounding the door and yelling before the lights finally flicked on and a tired and pissed off Brad stumbled down the stairs to let him in. In Boston, Tyler would have just followed Brad upstairs and crawled into his bed with him. He'd have plastered himself all along Brad's front, tucked his head under Brad's chin and breathed deeply until he felt less like he was going to vibrate out of his skin.
In Dallas, Tyler has to settle for a pillow that smells like Jamie and a couch that nearly engulfs him. It's truly amazing to him that his routine in Dallas with Jamie works better and faster than Marchy and Boston ever did.
Jamie's system of tucking a pillow under Tyler's head, spreading a fluffy blanket over him, then sitting on the edge of the couch for a few seconds, carding his fingers through Tyler's hair, then patting him on the shoulder and leaving, settles him better than hours of lying tucked into Brad's arms. At least here he doesn't have to drive to go to someone.
Marshall bolts around Tyler and starts barking excitedly when the park comes into view. It makes Tyler puff out a laugh. Marshall bounds circles around him, making him spin to keep from getting wrapped up in the leash.
“Easy, buddy!” Tyler chides gently, untangling the ankle Marshall wrapped around. Marshall pulls at the end of his leash hard, attempting to physically drag Tyler to the entrance of the fenced dog park. He has to jog a bit to avoid being pulled over by Marshall.
The sun is up fully now, and it is starting to get hot already. Marshall is panting and drooling all over the place. He seems to prefer to drool on Tyler usually, but at the moment he is too focused on the shallow pool in the fenced area to think about wiping his drool on Tyler. The park is empty, and Tyler breathes a sigh of relief. He really didn't feel like worrying over getting recognized.
The gate clicks shut behind them, Tyler shakes it once to make sure it is closed securely. Marshall whines loudly and bounces in place as Tyler attempts to unhook his leash. Once he is released, he goes bolting for the pool, leaping into the water and splashing it everywhere.
They don't have a lot of time to spend at the park, but Marshall loves it so much that Tyler can't deny him a couple minutes of time there. There are multiple benches throughout the dog park, but Tyler has a favorite one, over near the water fountain. It is shaded by a large tree and gives him a good view of most of the park. Marshall is gulping water furiously and doggy paddling in circles, making Tyler snort out a laugh.
The bench is cool from the shade, and Tyler sprawls all over it, propping one leg up and leaning back against the tree trunk. Sweat is dripping into his eyes as he squints at Marshall. He pulls the hem of his shirt up and wipes it over his face, sighing when he drops the edge back into his lap.
Tyler's phone chimes, making him jump a bit and distracting him from Marshall. It's Jamie. Of course its Jamie. Tyler finds himself smiling a bit as he slides his thumb across the screen to open the snapchat.
Jamie's hair is damp in the photo, and his lower lip is pouting. His eyes are comically sad. They caption says, 'u left without me.'
Tyler snorts and snaps a picture of the dog park. He adds the text, 'come get us' and hits send. Might as well. If Jamie picks them up, he can let Marshall play longer. The more energy he burns off now, the less he will tear up the apartment before the dog sitter arrives to tend to him in the evening. Jamie sends him another snap of himself, grinning and giving him a thumbs up.
Tyler stares at it until it goes away, dropping his phone into his lap and glancing around for Marshall. His heart leaps in a moment of panic when he doesn't see him immediately. He jumps up and spins around, yelling, “Marshall!”
The dog barks once and then starts up a high pitched whine. Tyler makes his way towards the noise, carefully avoiding a few piles of dog poop that someone neglected to clean up. Marshall is yipping at something in the bushes, jumping back and cocking his head to the side occasionally before leaning back in.
As Tyler approaches, he hears an angry clicking and snapping noise. He jumps forward and grabs for Marshall's collar and hauls him away from the row of bushes that surround a small tree.
Marshall fights valiantly to try to get back to the bush, barking loudly. The bush shakes a little and goes still. At the other end of the main park, a car pulls up. It is enough for Marshall to get distracted and go bounding in that direction. Tyler lets him go, shaking his head at the dog's attention span.
The clicking sound resumes, drawing Tyler's attention back to it. He hesitates, but kneels down and gently pushes a section of the bush over. He gasps when he sees the white bird laying on its side in the bushes. It lifts it's head for a moment, then collapses back down. His stomach sinks at the sight.
The bird seems to summon all its might and snips the sash holding the infant to it's chest. It uses its beak to push the bundle towards Tyler once, dropping a burned up scroll from its beak as well.
Tyler has heard stories, of what happens when the baby a stork is carrying is rejected. Or if the parents both die in the time it takes a stork to arrive. But he never believed it. He always thought that there had to be a better reality than this. However, the burned up scroll is a tell all sign. This baby has been rejected. The stork will wander until it dies, the baby will die with it. Once every couple months, there will be a news headline about a dead stork being found, but it is a rare occurrence. Tyler's never heard of one being found this close to death.
But this stork isn't dead yet, maybe, just maybe the infant is still alive. Tyler gulps and reaches for the eerily still and quiet bundle. The stork watches him with one eye, it's breathing erratic. He pulls the bundle close enough that he can scoop his hands underneath it. The wraps feel cold and the baby is limp in his hands.
He sits back onto his butt, and rests the infant on his lap. After a deep breath to prepare himself, he flips the sash off the baby's face.
Ashen skin and blue lips meet his gaze. At first, it doesn't appear that the baby is breathing at all. Then, it takes a weak, shuddering inhale. He immediately grabs his phone out of his pocket, dialing 911.
The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at the hospital is an odd mix of hurried nurses and moments that seem to drag on for hours. Not long after Tyler got into the ambulance with the EMTs and the baby, he had made a phone call to take a personal day. He's never taken a personal day and missed a game before, but he figures he can make an exception just this once. Coach is miffed, but understanding, and tells him to rest up and be ready to go for the next one.
Jamie had taken Marshall home and then met Tyler at the hospital later. Tyler had only been along in the waiting room for about 20 minutes, but it had felt like hours. When Jamie had walked through the door, Tyler had launched himself at him and clung like his life depended on it.
Now Jamie has gone, leaving Tyler alone in the NICU. The baby, a girl, Tyler is informed, is stable. She's also a medical miracle. The doctors rave about how miraculous her survival would be, but they are also cautious. To date, only 20 other rejected infants have been found alive in the US and Canada, and only 2 have survived more than a few days.
Tyler is optimistic. It is impossible not to be when the baby holds so firmly onto his index finger. She is on a respirator, forcing her to breathe. She has a tube going down her throat and into her stomach for feedings and is lying on a heated mat in the incubator.
Her tiny fingers feel warm around Tyler's. Her cheeks have a healthy looking tan color and her lips are a soft red. She has warm brown eyes and tons of curly black hair. Her little tummy is rounded from her last feeding the nurses administered. Her skin has a soft brown hue when the blue light in the incubator is turned off. She reminds Tyler of reletives in photos from his Dad's side of the family.
Time seems slow in the NICU, Tyler counts the time not by the ticking of the clock but by her steady breaths. She still hasn’t cried, she hasn’t made any noises at all. The nurse tell Tyler that it is normal.
In the evening, a social worker comes in and asks to speak with Tyler in her office. Nurses assure him that the baby will be fine while he's gone. They seem to sense his hesitation when he glances from her to the baby. Eventually, he nods once and follows her down the hall.
The discussion is brief. Tyler has had his mind made up from the moment he stepped up alongside her incubator and she opened her eyes. If the laws allow it, he intends to adopt her.
The social worker assures him that something can be arranged. He gives her his lawyer information and she gives him the contact information he will need to get paperwork in order to formalize the adoption. In the mean time, she appoints him as the baby's temporary guardian.
When he gets back to the NICU, the first thing he does is spend a good ten minutes silently panicking and running his fingers through her soft curls. Then, he calls his mom.
For the next several days, Tyler mostly only leaves the hospital to go to practice and the two games they have. He hasn't been home since the whole ordeal started, hasn't seen Marshall, hasn't left the baby's side for longer than necessary. Even with all the stress, he scores a goal in each game, silencing the people who say it will negatively impact his game to have the baby in his life.
The paperwork to get things in order for him to adopt the baby is beyond daunting. There is so much to sign and read and so many people he has to meet with. The psychological exam that he needed to be approved to take her home was one of the most intense experiences of his life. His mom has been a godsend, helping him get everything in order. She came down to Dallas the morning after he called her and stayed for 6 days before heading back home for a couple. She's going to come back in a few days, but had to go home for a couple. The days in the hospital blur together and Tyler has a hard time remembering what day it is most of the time.
Finally, after just over a week in the hospital, the doctors clear her to go home with him. He's been approved as a foster parent, but the adoption papers will take much longer.
Jordie drives them back to Tyler's apartment. Tyler's more than a little irked that he's barely seen Jamie the last week, and that he couldn’t even be bothered to pick Tyler and the baby up from the hospital. Tyler slumps over the backseat. The baby, now named Ayla, is sound asleep. Tyler leans on her carseat heavily and stars blearily at her peaceful face. She's awake, only barely though. Her big brown eyes are almost closed and are scanning across the ceiling.
In the drivers seat, Jordie coughs once and glances back before starting to talk. Tyler only half listens, but Jamie's name catches his attention and makes him look up.
“-barely seen Jamie. Your going to love it. She's going to love it.” Jordie says emphatically. Tyler doesn't want to offend him, and just gives him a forced smile and looks back down.
Jordie deflates at the brush off, and turns his attention back to driving for the rest of the trip. When they finally arrive in the parking garage Jordie kills the engine and gets out. Tyler sighs and pushes the door open, dragging himself out. Jordie hauls the two bags, a duffle and a diaper bag, over his shoulder and looks pointedly at Tyler. With another long-suffering sigh, Tyler kicks into gear and heaves the carseat out and hooks it over his inner forearm. Together, they head to the elevator.
Tyler's first response when he opens the door is to wonder where Marshall is. His second is for his mouth to start watering at the amazing smell filling his apartment.
“Oh my god...” Tyler murmurs, taking a deep inhale and closing his eyes. “What is that?”
Jordie snorts. “Smells like Jamie is trying to burn the place down!”
Tyler rolls his eyes and carts the baby carrier towards the kitchen, his mouth watering at the smell of chicken roasting in the oven.
Sure enough, Jamie is bustling around the kitchen. He's stirring a pot and flipping something in a pan and then glancing into the oven, completely oblivious to Tyler and Jordie. Marshall is there too, staring longingly at the food cooking while slobber drips from his jowls.
“Jamie Benn, will you marry me?” Tyler sighs out, sitting the baby carrier down and shuffling forward to peer into the pot of boiling potato cubes. Jamie jumps, swinging around with wide eyes.
“You're home!” He gasps, grinning ear to ear. Tyler nods and slumps onto the counter. His elbows scream at him for leaning on them, but he ignores it to stare into the oven hungrily.
“You are the best, man, the best. How long until this is done?” Tyler asks, not feeling the least bit guilty as Jordie hauls the bags to their respective places in bedrooms.
Jamie shrugs. “That is done,” He gestures to the oven. “We are just waiting on the potatoes.”
The baby stirs a little in the carrier, grunting softly and whining a little. Tyler leans over to look at her. She's mostly asleep, but their talking has roused her a bit. Tyler nudges the carrier with his toe, making it rock. She falls back to sleep instantly. Jamie carefully sets the spatula down and crouches down to look at her.
“God, Segs. She's beautiful.” Jamie muses, “I feel like I've barely had time to meet her.”
You haven't. Tyler thinks bitterly. Jamie has been doing who knows what while Tyler has spent every waking moment scrambling to get papers in order and rushing back and forth from the rink and her bedside at the hospital.
A timer goes off, signaling that the potatoes are done boiling and ready to me mashed. Jordie chooses that moment to bound back into the room.
“Have fun you too,” he says, “I trust that you can handle one little baby...” He trails off as he walks away, heading out the door.
Tyler tries to ignore the way his chest seizes at the thought of caring for her all on his own.
“Yep, we've got it!” Jamie says amiably as he mashes the potatoes with a large utensil.
After dinner, Tyler feels like a fat cat and just wants to pass out completelt right in his chair. Ayla has other ideas though, and finally decides to wake up. Marshall is afraid of her. He hides the moment she starts crying and doesn't reappear until Tyler has finally, finally. gotten her to take her bottle and stop screaming.
Jamie's face is red and his eyes are wide and glassy as he stares at Tyler. He looks a bit shell-shocked. Tyler is waiting for his inevitable retreat to his own apartment at any moment.
He's a little surprised when Jamie grins suddenly and jumps up from the couch. Ayla has finished her bottle and is scanning her eyes around the ceiling unseeingly. Tyler props her up on his shoulder after adjusting the burp cloth and pats her gently. Jamie is practically bouncing in place, making Tyler eye him with exhausted suspicion.
“When you're ready, let me know. There's something you gotta see!” Jamie bubbles, clapping his hands once in excitement. Tyler blinks. He doesn't have a clue what Jamie is talking about, but shrugs and says, “Lay it on me, whats up?”
“No, you've gotta, come on!” Jamie beams, his words jumbling in excitement.
Tyler sighs and clutches Alya close, ignoring her tiny protests as he jostles her. Jamie leads him back the hallway to the spare bedroom. Tyler's too tired to think, and follows Jamie benignly.
“Ready?” Jamie asks. He doesn't wait for a response, but does stare at Tyler's face as he pushes the door open. Tyler takes a few steps into the room and lets his mouth fall open.
The walls are painted a soft green color with purple trim, Polkadotted green and purple curtains hang from the window, and plush cream colored carpet squishes under his bare toes. The room is fully furnished, with a sleigh style crib in the middle of the room, a glider chair in a corner with a bookshelf brimming with little books, a changing table, and a dresser that matches the crib.
Tyler turns in a complete circle twice, trying to take it all in. Jamie giggles and tugs the sliding closet door open. Inside it is stuffed with tiny outfits hanging up and another smaller dresser.
“Do you like it? Your mom helped a lot, I couldn’t have done it without her... She picked out all the clothes and helped me pick the crib and things...” Jamie rambles for moment, looking around like he's both proud and unsatisfied with the room.
“This is... Amazing.” Tyler breaths. He gently lays Ayla in the crib and starts a slow circuit of the room, looking at all the little accents here and there. On the wall above the dresser, AYLA is spelled out in large, dark green letters mounted to the wall. The toybox is brimming with toys to the point where it barely closes. Tyler turns to face Jamie eventually, grinning, a little bit dumbfounded.
He realizes he is moving after its too late to stop without being totally awkward, and finds his arms wrapped around Jamie's middle and his face tucked into Jamie's neck. Jamie stiffens for a minute, not bringing his arms of or even breathing.
“Thank you.” Tyler murmurs, starting to pull away. Jamie's arms envelop him suddenly, nearly squeezing the air out of his lungs in some sort of overcompensation for his delayed reaction.
Tyler chuckles uneasily, and relaxes back into the hug. He rests his head against Jamie's shoulder and lets his own shoulders droop. Marshall slinks into the room and nervously walks around the crib, sniffing warily.
“Uh,” Jamie hesitates, pulling back slightly, just enough that he can look at Tyler's face. “Your mom, uh... Made me promise I'd talk to you. About us. About...how...I feel about you?”
Tyler's sleep deprived brain struggles a bit to catch up, but he senses where this is going. He nods once, letting his hands slide down to Jamie's hips.
Jamie gulps, his throat bobbing nervously. “I know, this isn't the best time, with...everything else right now. But, I was wondering if you would wanttogooutwithmemaybe?”
Tyler furrows his eyebrows, trying to decipher that last part, then nods and laughs once.
“You know this isn't going to be easy, right?” Tyler asks softly. Jamie nods immediately, smiling nervously. He spins Tyler around and urges him towards the crib, where Ayla is dozing quietly. Marshall has settled down and is lying by the rocking chair watching them curiously. Tyler grins at him before flicking his eyes back to Ayla, sucking her fist contentedly.
“I know it isn't, and I'm pretty sure I've never wanted anything more than you, and her.” He murmurs into Tyler's ear. “And your dumb dog who knows he doesn’t belong in the nursery...”
Marshall's face drops and he lowers his head guiltily. Tyler laughs and tips his head back onto Jamie's shoulder. It's the best thing Tyler's ever heard Jamie say.