Chapter Text
…
The hospital nursery was quiet. A single monitor beeped gently in the corner. The baby, just under five pounds slept in a bassinet lined with a soft blue blanket, arms swaddled tight, face scrunched as he suckled in his sleep.
Tommy stood at the foot of his tiny crib, unmoving.
His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders tight. There was soot still streaked faintly behind his ear, a reminder of the shift he'd barely made it through before his world had tilted sideways.
He hadn't moved since the nurse led him in.
The door behind him clicked open. "Tommy?"
Evan's voice was soft, unsure.
Tommy didn't turn. Just blinked hard and nodded once.
Evan stepped up beside him, his face drawn in concern, still dressed in work clothes, hair mussed like he'd run a hand through it too many times on the drive over. Three months back together, and no one knew yet. It wasn’t intentional, it was just his.
"You okay?" he asked, eyes flicking from Tommy to the sleeping newborn. "You said it was urgent."
Tommy swallowed hard. "It is."
They stood in silence for a moment. The kind that stretches and stretches until it thins into tension.
Evan glanced at the baby again, then back to Tommy. "Whose kid is that?" he asked, careful but curious.
Tommy's voice was hoarse. "My nephew."
"Wait. What?" Evan's voice cracked.
Tommy pauses, his mind skimming backwards, trying to remember if he had ever told Evan of his sister. Once, maybe a year or so ago when they first got together, before the breakup, before Bobby. "His name's not even written down yet," Tommy said, eyes fixed on the bassinet. "He's four days old. Four pounds, fourteen ounces. Born early. And... he doesn't have anyone."
Tommy's shoulders drew tighter. "Jerry, the social worker. He's the one who found me and brought Eliza’s letter... she signed over her rights. Left the hospital. Named me."
Evan turned toward him, the pieces starting to align. "Eliza?"
Tommy nodded, finally glancing over. "My sister. I haven't seen her in nearly a decade. I looked for her for years... and then she just disappeared. Until now. And this..." He gestured toward the bassinet. "This is what she left me."
Evan didn't respond right away. His gaze shifted from Tommy's face back to the baby. He took a slow breath, like he was recalibrating.
Tommy's voice dropped, nearly breaking. "We never talked about children."
Evan looked at him, really looked at the red-rimmed eyes, the clenched jaw, the way he stood like he might shatter, was waiting to shatter. That this would be the moment that Evan decided he was too much.
"No," Evan agreed softly. "We haven't."
Tommy exhaled shakily and turned back toward the baby, his voice cracking. "I didn't think I'd ever get to have that. A family. Not really. Not after everything. Not with how I was raised. Now, it's not even a choice. It's just here." He dragged a hand down his face. "I don't even have a crib."
Evan reached out, fingers brushing his elbow. "You have a home," he said quietly. "And you have a heart big enough to say yes. That's more than a lot of kids get."
Tommy didn't answer. His hands trembled slightly. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth and shook his head. "I don't know if I can do this. Not without screwing it up. Not without breaking something."
Evan stepped a little closer. "Then we'll figure it out. Together."
Tommy nodded slowly, but the words didn't ease the tension in his chest. If anything, they made the weight heavier. "There's more," he said, voice barely audible. Like speaking it might crack something open he couldn't put back.
Evan went still beside him.
"There are two others," Tommy continued. “Levi Thomas is eight. Lila Grace is five.” He swallowed hard, breath shuddering on the way out. "They've been in foster care almost two years. I didn't even know. Not a single word for nine years. Not a postcard. Not a call. Just... this letter. A plea to keep them away from our parents."
He blinked hard, his throat working. "I didn't even know they existed. And now, they're mine. Or they could be. All of them." The words came out rough, like they hurt on the way up. Like they weren't ready to exist in the world yet.
Evan didn’t interrupt. He watched Tommy carefully, his posture shifting, bracing, uncertain. Like some part of him still remembered the cracks between them, the fault lines they were only just learning to navigate. His expression twisted into the guarded caution their breakup had carved into him.
It sent an ache through Tommy's ribs. But he kept going, because he had to. Because if he stopped now, he wouldn't be able to start again. "I'm a pilot for the LAFD with fucked hours and I haven't even looked at half my childhood, let alone dealt with it. I mean, I'm trying, have been for years." He let out a bitter, quiet laugh that didn't sound like a laugh at all. "I mean, who the fuck thought this was a good idea to entrust this tiny, amazing little human to me?"
He shook his head, jaw tight. "What if I'm not enough?" His voice cracked. "What if I can't do it right? What if I break something in them that can't be fixed?" His eyes flicked toward the sleeping baby, then to Evan just for a moment. Long enough for the truth to land between them.
The silence held for a breath just long enough to feel like his universe might implode. Then Evan stepped in, closer, his voice going firm in away Tommy's rarely heard, "You are."
Tommy looked at him, stunned by the certainty he found laced in those two little words.
Evan's voice stayed low, steady. "And you're not alone." The words fell between them like a promise. A truth. He let it sit for a second. "Let's just get through tonight, okay? One step at a time."
Tommy huffed a laugh that sounded like a muffled sob. "Yeah," he said, voice thick. "Okay."
"Tonight, we'll go home," Evan said, glancing at him, "we'll eat something warm, we'll collapse into your bed. And tomorrow... tomorrow we call that guy again. What's his name, Gary?"
Tommy shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly despite everything. "Jerry."
"Right. Jerry." Evan smiled, a little crooked now. "Tomorrow we'll ask more questions. We'll start an Amazon order."
Tommy nodded. But his eyes had drifted back to the baby again, and his chest pulled tight all over again.
Evan followed his gaze. "He needs a name?"
Tommy nodded slowly and held out her letter to Evan to read. "Eliza said... she wanted me to pick it."
Evan took the paper without a word, his fingers brushing Tommy’s just briefly. His eyes scanned the page, brow tightening as he read. Before either of them could say anything more, there was a soft knock at the door. A nurse stepped in, calm and kind, her smile small but warm. "If one of you would like to hold him," she offered. "You may."
Tommy froze, as his body tense, like he wasn't sure if he could trust himself, but his gaze followed Evan.
Evan who tucked the letter into his back pocket and didn't hesitate. He stepped forward without looking back, without asking, without waiting to be told he could.
The nurse swaddled the baby a little tighter, then carefully placed the small bundle into Evan's arms.
And something inside Evan shifted the moment the weight settled against his chest. His shoulders relaxed. His breath evened. His entire body seemed to soften, like he'd just been handed something that made his entire life make sense.
He looked down at the baby, eyes wide with wonder. "Hey," Evan whispered, instinctively rocking. His voice soft with love, "You're small little guy, huh? We're gonna need to increase your protein intake, bulk you up a bit, bubba."
The baby made a tiny sound, a breathy sigh. Evan's expression lit up like someone had flipped a switch in him. Like his heart had just clicked into place.
Tommy watched him, unmoving. His heart was still aching and heavy and twisted in fear but underneath it, something bloomed. Something tender. Something that felt like maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a mistake.
"He's so little," Evan murmured, glancing over his shoulder, beaming. "How is he so little?"
Tommy smiled faintly, voice cracking at the edges.
"Luke?"
Evan wrinkled his nose. "No."
Tommy tried again. "Lincoln?"
Evan gave him a look. "After the hot guy in the bar? Absolutely not."
Tommy laughed. For real this time small and rough, but real. "Okay. Liam?"
Evan went quiet. His eyes dropped back to the baby. He swayed slowly, "Yeah," he said softly. "Liam."
“Liam Robert Kinard,” Evan said softly.
Tommy blinked, the name landing heavier than expected. “Robert?”
Evan didn’t look up. His gaze stayed on the baby, steady but distant. “After Bobby. I know Maddie and Chimney named their little one Robert Nash, Robby...but I… never mind, it's selfish.”
Tommy stepped in gently, his voice soft. “He was the closest thing to a dad you ever had.”
Evan gave a small nod. “Exactly.” His voice cracked on the word. “And Liam’s big brother, Levi, was named after the best man Eliza ever knew. So… I figured I should keep the theme.”
Tommy's breath caught. He stepped forward and gently rested a hand against Evan's back, watching the tiny rise and fall of each breath of the babe in his arms. "You're a good man," he said, voice low and thick and full of everything he couldn't put into words.
Evan finally looked up at him, eyes shining but steady. "Let's just try to be good enough for him."
Tommy stared at the two of them, this man who hadn't flinched, and this baby who had no idea how lucky he already was. "Welcome to the world, Liam Robert Kinard," he whispered.
Evan shifted the weight in his arms like he’d been doing it for years, thumb brushing gently along the newborn’s swaddled side. Liam gave a little wriggle, nose scrunching, as Evan held him out to look him over.
"Hey, Liam," he murmured. "I’m Evan. Most people call me Buck. I’m a firefighter with the 118. I really like cooking… and baking. I got really into baking this last year. So, your first birthday cake is gonna be epic. I’ve got a zoo membership. I love documentaries. And I don’t get a lot of your Dad’s movie references." He let out a breathy chuckle, "But I’m really glad you’re here."
Tommy didn’t trust his voice. His heart ached. Not in the painful, breaking way it had all afternoon, but in that unfamiliar, terrifying way that came with hope. A pressure behind his ribs that built slowly.
Evan swayed without realizing it. His cheek dipped lower as he pressed the faintest kiss to Liam’s tiny, hat-covered head. “You’re gonna be okay, bubba, we’ve got you,” he whispered.
Tommy let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His hand rested on Evan’s back, warm beneath his fingers, steady. And under that, love. Quiet, bone-deep love. “I didn’t expect this,” Tommy said quietly.
Evan glanced at him, eyes curious, waiting. Cautious.
Tommy’s throat worked. He swallowed, then added, even softer, “You.”
Evan blinked, caught off guard.
Tommy let out a shaky breath. “Evan, this is the part where you should be running.” His jaw tightened like he could bite back the rest, but it still came. “Not this. Not stepping in. Not holding him like you’ve been waiting your whole life to do it.”
Evan’s lips pulled into a slow, crooked self-deprecating grin. “I’ve never been much for running,” he stated simply. “I’m scared, sure,” he added after a beat, eyes still on Liam. “But scared doesn’t always mean wrong. Sometimes it just means it matters.” His gaze lifted, steady now. “And this,” he murmured, eyes locking on Tommy’s. “This matters.”
Tommy stared at him at how steady Evan looked with Liam in his arms. Like he belonged there. Like this hadn’t rattled him, them, their whole world. It wasn’t fair, how natural he made it look. And maybe Tommy was a little jealous of that. Mostly in awe. And more than a bit terrified. Because if Evan could step into this so easily… maybe he could step out just as fast.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Tommy whispered, his voice catching on the way out.
Evan’s head lifted sharply, gaze locking on his. “Hey,” he said, low and firm. “Look at me.”
Tommy did.
“I mean it,” Evan said, steady and unflinching. “I’ve loved a lot of people, Tommy. But I’ve never looked at someone the way I’m looking at him right now and felt like… like the rest of my life is right in front of me.” His smile twisted as if a memory hit him, and he corrected himself, “Actually, I did, once before, about four hundred and fifty-six days ago.” Evan stepped forward, just slightly, careful not to jostle Liam. “When you were sitting across from me on that patio café, holding the worst cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted.
Evan let the words rest between them before adding, “You said this wasn’t a choice. But it is. You chose to read Eliza’s letter. You chose to walk into this nursery. To stand here, scared out of your mind… and not walk away.” His eyes found Tommy’s again. “That’s love, Tommy.”
Tommy blinked hard. He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, or the hours of adrenaline finally fading, or the sight of Evan, this man he loved, holding something so impossibly small like he already knew how to protect it. “You really think it’s gonna be that easy?”
Evan looked down at Liam, then back up. “No,” he said honestly. “It’s probably going to make everything a million times harder.”
Tommy had never seen Evan like this. Not on calls. Not in the quiet mornings they shared. He shifted Liam higher, so the baby’s cheek rested over his heart. His thumb brushed a patch of sandy hair at the crown of Liam’s head, slow, reverent. No shields. No masks. Just the pure, aching joy of a man discovering something he hadn’t known he was missing until it was in his arms.
Tommy’s breath caught. It hit him how easily this moment could have slipped through his fingers. How Liam could’ve stayed in that bassinet another day. Another week. Alone.
But Tommy had stepped into the nursery. Had chosen, not just Liam but also a man who hadn’t hesitated.
Now hours later, he was still standing, his heart cracked wide open, watching something sacred unfold right in front of him. Tommy scoffed soft and wrecked. “You’re so gone already.”
Evan finally looked at him, “Can you blame me?” He looked down one more time, whispered something too soft for Tommy to catch, and then lifted his gaze. “You should hold him.”
Tommy tensed, almost took a step back.
“You’ve got this,” Evan said gently. He stepped forward, close enough that Tommy could feel the heat of the baby even before he touched him.
Tommy’s heart stuttered as Evan eased Liam into his arms, slow, careful, guiding his hands until the baby settled feather light against his chest. His breath caught like a punch to the sternum.
Liam was so small. So very real. He adjusted his hold instinctively, one hand curled under Liam’s bottom, the other supporting the tiny neck, and then very slowly he lifted him up, just a little, holding him out in front of him like he needed to see the truth of him for himself.
His throat went tight. “Well, aren’t you a sweet one,” Tommy murmured, his voice thick with awe, roughened by every emotion he didn’t have words for.
Liam blinked, blue eyes opening slowly, looking up at him.