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Summary
Dean is a baker, he is content with his life, and he is losing his mind over the baby next door. For the past week, the baby has been crying for five full minutes at the top of their pitch, every. single. night. The walls are way too thin. He thinks he might go insane.
Dean offers to help; he's good with babies.
“Help?” The man says incredulously. He says it like the word is something dirty. “What help? What help would I possibly acquire from you, Dean? I take extraordinary care of Jack. I do everything by protocol. You are condescending and arrogant to assume otherwise. Who are you to judge that I need help and that you can provide that help? I think it is you who need help if you genuinely think I will accept any help from a stranger regarding my child. Excuse me.”