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Ronan Lynch had faced down some pretty terrifying things in his life.
His best friend dying before his very eyes (and then coming back to life). Losing his dream forest (and then dreaming a new one). Learning that he was not exactly… human . Facing down the apocalypse. Nearly losing the love of his life.
He’d faced all sorts of dreamt beasties and their dreamers and stood fast in the face of Adam Lynch’s anger. But there was nothing quite as terrifying as being a new parent to a sick baby.
Aoife had been in Ronan and Adam’s life for nearly a year. She had grown so much in that time, going from a tiny, helpless newborn to a curious, giggly infant. All things considered, she was a very easy baby.
Ronan had been expecting a lot more stress than they got with Aoife. While she had first come to them when they were wholly unprepared for a baby, “gifted” to Ronan by Lindenmere, his forest trying to satisfy his desire to become a parent, Ronan and Adam had managed. They’d gotten into a routine and transitioned pretty easily into parenthood after the initial growing pains.
They’d been making things work and work well and perhaps they had fallen into a false sense of security.
Aoife usually slept through the night. She wasn’t particularly fussy when it came to food. She was playful and curious and loved to crawl and waddle around. She loved both her parents and had an adorable affinity for Chainsaw.
So when Aoife woke up wailing at 2am, Ronan knew that something was very, very wrong. He’d tossed the blankets off of himself, walking across the hall to the nursery where Aoife was crying loudly in her crib.
He reached for her, surprised at how warm she was to the touch, her face red, her nose runny. Ronan panicked. Adam was away on business and wouldn’t be home until later that day. He debated calling Jordan or Blue but did some googling instead, which only upped his anxiety, so he ended up calling Blue since she and Gansey were closest.
Blue talked him down and told him it was probably just a cold and Aoife would be fine. If things got worse, she recommended calling their pediatrician.
They had baby cold meds which would probably help manage some of her symptoms but for the most part, the poor thing would just have to wait it out and let her little immune system fight off the illness.
Ronan managed to get some Motrin into her, cleaning out her nose as best he could, holding her close until she fell back asleep. He fell asleep in the rocking chair in the nursery, starting his day as usual, though now with a crick in his neck and his stomach in knots.
He went about his morning routine as quickly as he could, carrying the baby monitor with him wherever he went, running back up to Aoife when she woke up crying again. They took a steamy shower together which seemed to help her a little and Ronan managed to get some food into her, too.
He hovered anxiously when Aoife napped, keeping the baby monitor with him if he had to leave her alone in her crib, afraid something would happen, or that she would need comforting. It wasn’t like she could tell him what was wrong and he didn’t like seeing his daughter in so much distress.
He didn’t like how hard it seemed for her to breathe with her stuffy nose or the sad little coughs she had.
Ronan had texted Adam about the situation and Adam had been as reassuring as he could while he drove back home. When he arrived, he found Ronan in the nursery, sitting in their rocking chair, watching the crib like a hawk. Ronan’s eyes darted up to see Adam standing in the doorway, dressed in his slacks and button down, his tie and jacket and shoes removed, before turning them back to Aoife.
“Hey, darlin’,” Adam said softly, walking further into the nursery. “How’s the patient?”
Adam paused, looking over the side of the crib, reaching down to gently brush a finger against Aoife’s wild, dark curls, and then over her round cheek.
“Poor thing.”
Ronan watched his husband, always enamored when he saw Adam and Aoife together. Adam had been much more uncertain about parenthood than Ronan but in Ronan’s view, he’d taken to it like a duck to water.
He was so good with her; patient and loving and everything a father should be. Sometimes, if Ronan let himself really think about it, seeing Adam with Aoife made him want like, five more kids. The paternal energy that Adam Lynch possessed was far more attractive than Ronan could have ever expected.
He didn’t have ovaries…but if he did…
But it was hard to fall into that in moments like this, when Ronan felt like he was barely holding on by a thread, and they only had one baby to worry about. He was so glad that Adam was home.
Adam turned away from the crib, moving closer to Ronan.
“You alright?” he asked, running a hand over Ronan’s buzzed head as Ronan leaned forward, pressing his face into Adam’s stomach.
“I’m fucking exhausted,” Ronan replied and Adam hummed, fingers massaging the back of Ronan’s neck.
“Why don’t you nap? I can manage her from here. Did you give her anything?”
“I gave her some Motrin like four hours ago, so she should be good for another two to four hours.”
“Okay,” Adam hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of Ronan’s head. “Good job, Ro.”
Ronan let out a heavy sigh. He raised his head and Adam smiled at him, moving back slightly so Ronan could stand.
“Hi,” Ronan murmured, leaning in to kiss Adam. “I missed you.”
Adam made a soft cooing noise and wrapped his arms around Ronan, holding him close. “I missed you, too. Both of you.”
They held one another for a few moments before Adam pressed another kiss to Ronan’s mouth.
“I love you,” he said. “You’re a great dad.”
Ronan smiled a little, kissing Adam once more, before his husband sent him off to bed to get some rest.
Ronan slept for a few hours, waking up to find Adam with Aoife in the nursery. Adam had changed out of his suit and into jeans and a t-shirt. He had a towel over his shoulder, leaning over the changing table as he changed and dressed Aoife.
Ronan leaned against the door frame, watching, his heart feeling too big for his chest. Adam had Aoife’s feet in his hands, smiling and laughing with her. She wiggled and giggled and the sound was magical.
“This little piggy had none, and this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home,” Adam said in a sing-song voice as he played with Aoife’s tiny feet and tiny toes and she laughed.
“C’mere, sweet pea,” Adam hummed once Aoife was in her onesie. He held her against his shoulder, one hand at the back of her head, the other supporting her. He pressed a cheek to her curls, swaying back and forth and Ronan watched Aoife’s eyes dip sleepily, one little hand curled close to her face.
Adam turned a little, smiling at Ronan, and pressed a kiss into Aoife’s hair.
“Wanna say goodnight, daidí?”
Ronan huffed a soft laugh, pushing off the doorframe, and wrapping his little family up in his arms. He pressed a kiss into Aoife’s hair and one to Adam’s cheek.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he hummed, the two of them gently rocking from foot to foot as Aoife fell asleep on Adam’s shoulder.
Adam laid Aoife down carefully in her crib and they grabbed the monitor to take with them as they crept out of the nursery to have some much needed time for just the two of them. Ronan groaned, hefting Adam over his shoulder, much to Adam’s delight, tossing him onto their bed, and crawling in after him.
“Fucking finally,” Ronan grunted, pulling off Adam’s clothes after they’d set the monitor on their nightstand.
Adam just laughed, curling his arms around Ronan’s neck.
“C’mere,” he hummed, pulling Ronan close.
The following day, Adam was working from home. It was nice having him back, his presence bringing equilibrium back to their home, and Ronan felt more relaxed as they both tackled Aoife’s illness together.
Ronan chuckled softly as he listened to Adam in a meeting, explaining that he may have to dip out because he had a sick baby on his hands. Aoife was more snotty and coughing today, and Ronan gently cleaned her nose, watching his daughter scrunch up her face and whine.
“I know, baby girl. I’m sorry,” he soothed.
The day passed mostly without incident. Aoife slept majority of the time, which was good, and Ronan got some things done around the house, leaving the baby with Adam if he wasn’t in meetings.
In the evening, Ronan took Aoife up to bed, changing her after her bath. He sang to her a little, carefully lifting her up from the changing table, when she sneezed directly into his mouth. He closed his eyes, frozen, as Aoife sniffled and whined, Ronan holding her up by her armpits
“Well…fuck,” he muttered, knowing that any chance he had of maybe dodging whatever Aoife had was now zero. He sighed, cleaning Aoife’s nose, settling her down for sleep, and promptly went to brush his teeth and wash his mouth out, though he didn’t think it would do much good.
He went downstairs, finding Adam in the kitchen, finishing with the dishwasher. He turned, smiling brightly, leaning in expectantly for a kiss, but Ronan just shook his head.
“What?” Adam asked, brows furrowed, confused.
“Aoife sneezed directly into my fucking mouth,” he replied. “I’m gonna be sick in a few days.”
Adam nodded, eyebrows raised. “I see. Well shit. That sucks.”
“Yup,” Ronan replied, popping the ‘p.’ “You’re next.”
Adam laughed. “Yeah, I figured.”
Ronan poured himself some orange juice, willing to risk the gross flavor mixture of mint toothpaste and OJ in a bid to try and boost his immune system.
The OJ didn’t really help all that much because two days later Ronan woke up with a scratchy throat and runny nose and knew he was fucked. Adam looked at him sympathetically, sending him back to bed, and taking care of the baby himself.
Aoife seemed to be at the tail end of being sick, which was good, and Ronan hoped that she’d be right as rain so Adam wouldn’t have to worry about caring for a sick baby and a sick husband, before he inevitably got sick himself.
Ronan had a fever for about twenty-four hours, flip-flopping between sweating his ass off and feeling chilled to the bone. Adam came in to check on him and make sure he was hydrating and eating. Most of the time he slept or aimlessly watched Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives .
“You have a guest,” Adam said, arriving with dinner. Chainsaw hopped along on the floor, flapping onto the bed.
“ Kerah ,” she croaked at Ronan, who hadn’t done any of his usual duties of heading out to their little barn to take care of their horses and sheep and cows and goats, which also meant that Chainsaw didn’t get her one on one time with him.
“Sorry, dude,” Ronan murmured at the raven who was apparently making a nest next to Ronan out of one of the throw blankets Ronan was no longer using, and the sweaty t-shirt he’d discarded. “Gross, Chainsaw. Don’t use that.”
Adam laughed, sitting at the edge of the bed by Ronan’s hip.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked, reaching out to rest the back of his cool hand against Ronan’s feverish forehead.
“Fucking terrible,” Ronan replied, closing his eyes, and leaning into Adam’s touch.
“You’re still warm,” Adam replied, touching his cheek.
“No shit.”
Adam made a rueful noise. “Eat your dinner, asshole.”
Ronan did as he was told, took some more meds, and hunkered back down under the blankets, Chainsaw snoozing in her little makeshift nest next to him. Adam kissed Ronan’s forehead, stroked a hand along Chainsaw’s feathers, and went back to chores, and checking on the baby.
Once Aoife was settled down for the night, Adam came back to their room, taking a shower, putting on his pajamas. Ronan watched him, taking in the lean lines of him; tan, freckled skin, wiry muscle, wishing he didn’t feel like absolute garbage so his husband could make sweet, sweet love to him.
But that would have to wait until this bug ran its course.
Instead, Adam joined Ronan and Chainsaw in bed, reading while Ronan watched Chopped , slowly falling asleep.
“I can sleep on the couch,” Ronan mumbled as Adam turned the page of his book.
“Don’t be stupid, Ro,” Adam replied. “Sleep.”
Ronan woke up the next day feeling marginally better. He no longer had a fever and while he was still congested and coughing, he felt better able to function. Aoife seemed back to her old self, smiling and laughing and giving Adam a run for his money.
Adam seemed none the worse for wear yet and Ronan hoped he would be more or less back to normal to take care of Adam when he crashed.
He spent the day continuing to convalesce, though he was able to do a little more, helping to clean up after meals, and pack away leftovers, though Adam was still doing the lion’s share of work on top of his regular work.
Ronan felt sort of guilty. He knew that being sick was being sick and there wasn’t much that could be done, especially when you had an infant, but he always wanted things to be equitable between him and Adam.
Ronan’s job wasn’t a typical nine to five. He was sort of “not working” right now because of Aoife, where Adam had used up all his paternity leave and some of his PTO when Aoife had first come home with them, and was now back at work.
“Lets just order take out,” Ronan said to Adam when he’d finished up with work for the evening. Ronan had fed Aoife and was cuddling on the couch with her before they put her to bed. He handed her off to Adam, watching them fondly.
“Hi, baby girl,” Adam chuckled, smiling warmly as Aoife giggled and reached for him. He held her close, kissing her little face and hands.
“Take out sounds good,” Adam replied, still smiling, eyes crinkled. He looked at Ronan, happy and soft, and Ronan was so incredibly in love with his husband and daughter he could hardly stand it.
“What?” Adam asked, voice tender, and Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam, Aoife squished between them.
She shrieked with laughter and Adam chuckled, tucking his face against Ronan’s neck since his hands were full.
“I love you so much,” Ronan grumbled and Adam sighed.
“I love you, too,” Adam hummed. “So much.”
“You, too, you little snot,” Ronan cooed affectionately at Aoife, kissing into her curls. Adam chuckled, head on Ronan’s shoulder so they could both look at Aoife, who looked back at them with Adam’s eyes.
Adam kissed her forehead and she made a soft little sound that had both of her parents melting.
“God, she’s perfect,” Adam murmured, pressing his nose to Ronan’s cheek.
“Fucking, right?” Ronan replied. He sighed. “I’ll order take out.”
By the end of the week, Ronan was feeling almost back to normal, and Adam was under the weather. He called out from work and was a vague lump under their comforter, shivering and sweating much like Ronan had been.
Ronan took Aoife out and about with him to give Adam some peace and quiet, making sure he had food and snacks and plenty of water and that he didn’t have to go far. Mostly he slept, which was what Adam tended to do when he was run down.
Ronan went grocery shopping, being stopped by various old ladies, cooing over how cute Aoife was, got back home, put Aoife down for her nap, unloaded groceries, cleaned the house, checked on the animals, and then on Adam.
He felt quite productive after a few days of worrying about Aoife and being sick himself, so it was nice to get some shit done, and then slow down some to take care of his husband.
“You look gross,” Ronan chuckled as he sat on their bed, Adam blowing his nose, a small pile of tissues next to his leg.
“Shut up,” Adam replied. He looked flushed and tired, a little sweaty, and Ronan slid a hand through his hair.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “Did you take meds?”
“More water,” Adam replied. “And yeah. Probably gonna go back to sleep.” He sniffled pathetically and Ronan smiled. Adam sick was adorably pathetic and Ronan only loved him more.
He remembered a time when Adam would fight him on being taken care of and now he allowed it, which was perhaps Ronan’s greatest victory.
“You got it,” Ronan murmured, kissing Adam’s head, and picking up his water bottle to get him some more water.
They chatted a little while Adam rehydrated and then curled back under the covers, Ronan stroking his hair until Adam fell asleep mid conversation. Ronan smiled, his heart full, and went to check on Aoife, before making dinner.
Adam’s illness lasted a little longer than Ronan’s and Aoife’s and Ronan chalked that up to Adam having been traveling and then the stress of work, a sick baby, and a sick husband.
Back to their usual routine, everyone was feeling much better. Ronan wasn’t looking forward to school starting and Aoife getting sick from her classmates but they would cross that bridge when they got there.
For now, everyone had survived their first illness together as a family, and he would be grateful that at least it hadn’t been the stomach flu.
FIN