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Hank was fretting. Hank knew that he was fretting, but Jas had come down with a cold and every single time Hank left her side, all he could think about were the number of horrible ways she could die if he wasn’t there to watch after her. He knew that she would probably be fine. Heck, Logan certainly thought there was nothing to worry about given the way he was reiterating that same message every time they saw each other, but his partner’s assurance wasn’t doing anything to quell Hank’s worries or fears.
After all, Logan was as much a doctor as Logan was a worrier.
He couldn’t lose her.
It had only been a handful of months since the girls had first come to them, but already there wasn’t a single thing that Hank wouldn’t do if they asked or needed it of him. Heck, Hank would have laid down his life for the two little girls almost the moment he met them, seeing them huddled together by Logan across the front lawn, his heart up in his throat and racing with worry for two little girls that he suspected had been through far too much.
He’d been right, unfortunately, and over the following days he, alongside Logan, learned about the horrors the two girls had lived through. Some of the things that Laura had told them still haunted his dreams, and every now and then he’d wake up in a cold sweet wrapped around Logan with their girls somewhere on the bed with them, his heart racing as nightmares plagued his sleep. As painful as it was to hear, learning about what the girls had faced had only made him love them more for how very strong they were and how much they’d overcome.
He was infinitely proud of them, and he loved them like they were his own. Now that he knew them, he was absolutely certain there was nothing they could ask of him that he wouldn’t be willing to do.
That was why he couldn’t bring himself to leave Jas’ side for more than a few moments. They’d already been through so much, his girls, that he couldn’t imagine them ever having to go through anything difficult ever again. Knowing that Jas was sick and he, a Doctor, wasn’t able to do anything about it was tearing him up. Yes, Jas only had a common cold, but he should have been able to do something about it. He should have been able to make her feel better, to ease some of her discomforts if only because she didn’t deserve to ever feel uncomfortable again.
The reality was, however, that what Jas needed was rest and patience, and neither of those things made Hank feel any better about her state of health. Jas suddenly sneezed quite aggressively, shaking Hank from his musings and getting every iota of his attention back on her. He watched nervously as she blinked slowly before she looked up at where he was sitting on the edge of his bed with wide, multi-coloured eyes.
“Dr. McCoy?” Jas muttered weakly, sniffling before she fell into a sneezing fit that had her curling into the fetal position in the middle of Hank’s mostly unused bed—they’d decided it would be best for Jas to spend her time in Hank’s room until she felt better. She kept sweating through her clothes and her sheets and it was easier to change a bed when all four of them weren’t sleeping on it.
They were lonely at night, missing two bed-companions, but it was easier when they needed to change the bedding at least once an evening.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, pushing her growing bangs off of her forehead and then laying the back of his hand against the skin there. She didn’t feel any warmer than she had earlier, but she still felt warmer than he was comfortable with.
“Can you play with my hair? Please?” she asked him quietly, nothing more than a mere whisper that he may not have picked up if it hadn’t been for his enhanced senses.
Still, a whisper was a vast improvement from the first few weeks when Jas hadn’t felt comfortable asking for anything other than the necessities. It was heartbreaking, as Jas was such an inquisitive little girl, bright beyond her eyes, and at the beginning that questioning nature had been snuffed out by past trauma. It had taken time and care for Jas to flourish into the wonderful little girl she was today, and Hank wouldn’t have done anything differently.
“Of course, darling,” Hank whispered, pushing himself off the bed with his hands braced on his knees. He kicked off the slippers he was wearing—despite the way Logan teased him, his feet got cold in the evenings—and slipped off his housecoat, placing it on over his desk chair before he walked back to the head of his bed.
Playing with Jas’ hair was a sure-fire way to put the girl right to sleep, so Hank was making sure he’d be comfortable once she dozed off. It was still early, and even though Jas needed the rest, Hank wasn’t up to calling it a night at merely seven. He already had a stack of journals and a book he was reading on his end table, so all he needed to do was slide his legs under the covers as he sat up against the headboard. Jas, who’d watched him as he moved around the room, looked at him curiously.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Hank said quietly, fighting a smile when she immediately shifted along the bed to rest on his lap. With her head pillowed on his thigh, Hank lost the battle against his grin and felt his mouth pull up. “Good girl.”
Jas made a happy noise and sniffled again, though this time she managed to avoid the sneezing fit. She nuzzled against Hank’s khaki’s, gripping his knee with her little hand as she got herself comfortable, and then she mumbled a sleepy, “Thank you, Daddy,” that tore Hank’s heart right out of his chest.
His... his daughter’s breathing evened out as she approached sleep quickly, and Hank felt his throat close up as tears stung at his eyes. He bent himself in half to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he wished, pushing past a lump of emotion suddenly lodged in his throat as he sat up and grabbed the study he was reading through, propping it up on his free thigh and fighting to tear his eyes away from his daughter's now-sleeping face.
He kept petting her hair back as he read, getting into a comfortable rhythm that he knew he wouldn’t break until she woke up. Scanning the page of his text he realized he was still smiling, and with another pass of his palm over Jas’ silky hair, he knew nothing would be dimming his grin any time soon.