Speak Away This Cloud of Fear

A soft spring darkness drifted through the open window. Gentle slumbering breaths rose and fell. The scream of an infant pierced the night.

“Ross…” The syllable was drawn out in a growl that would have been a yell without the sluggishness of sleep.

“I went last time,” came the groaned response.

“‘Cause he’s your kid,” a grumble countered.

With another extended groan, Ross finally began to move, tossing the covers back and standing, forgoing a shirt to stumble out of the room. Seconds later a soft light filtered through the doorway from down the hall. The crying changed in rhythm but not in volume. Aaron lay staring at the ceiling, sleep edged away by the nameless pain in the baby’s voice. This time the cries seemed to carry on longer without any sign of progress. Listening intently for a shift in sound, any kind of softening, Aaron sat up and reached for his shirt nearby. With no sign of the child letting up, he tugged the shirt over his head and made his way down the hallway.

The light was still soft in Moses’s room, the blue of the wall serene. Aaron took a moment to find Ross, who knelt rather awkwardly with Moses on his hip, rummaging through a drawer. Watching a small while, Aaron noticed an edge to Ross’s movements.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, entering the room.

Ross twisted to look at him before turning back to the drawer. “Yeah, he’s a little warm but I can’t – find the thermometer to – “ He resettled Moses on his hip, then stood. “Actually, can you hold him while I look?”

Ross didn’t wait for an answer before pushing Moses into Aaron’s arms.

“Ross, I –”

“Just for a second,” he said as he ducked back down to the drawers. Aaron was thrown to see Ross even slightly rattled, so he didn’t protest further.

Moses had grown into his limbs and could support his own head so he wasn’t difficult to hold, except he continued to squirm, and the screams were particularly louder when so close to his ears. Ross closed the drawer firmly and all but yanked open the next. Aaron looked to Moses, his small face red and wet with tears, his mouth twisted in a frown that tugged at something in Aaron. He settled into holding Moses, began to bounce him a little and passed a hand over his forehead. He did seem warm, but it was hard to tell how warm.

At a loss of what to do, Aaron continued to bounce him gently, attempting a comforting sort of rocking motion, and held him close. He began to hum gently, his own worry manifesting a little. When his hums became a recognizable rhyme, he began to semi-sing it, his voice nearly a whisper.

“The incy, wincy spider climbed up the waterspout…”

Moses’s wails began to stutter and the boy hiccuped slightly, drawing Ross’s attention. Moses continued to cry, but with less force, and Aaron shrugged as he kept up the rhyme. Ross stood.

“Maybe it’s in the loo,” he said before leaving the room.

Aaron began to follow, but realized his own skin was slightly damp with sweat where he held the baby against himself. Still mumbling the rhyme repeatedly, he crossed the room to lay Moses in his crib and swiftly but gently removed the boy’s onesie, leaving him in just a diaper. Still struggling and fussy, Moses’s volume had dropped drastically by the time Aaron picked him up again.

Ross was digging around under the sink when Aaron joined him in the loo. “Do you have a cloth?” he asked.

Ross paused in his search briefly. “Uh, yeah,” he answered, pulling open a drawer, removing a cloth, and handing it to Aaron. As Ross retreated back under the sink, Aaron ran the rag under the faucet, then wrung it out as best he could one-handed, before pressing it softly to Moses’s forehead. After a while, Moses’s cries faded to fussy whimpers and Ross withdrew from the cabinet.

He looked the two of them over, then asked, “How’d you do that?”

Aaron shrugged. “He was warm, I figured I’d cool him down.” Aaron handed the child back and Ross took over holding the cloth to his head. At a loss for what to do next, Aaron looked around and, catching site of Moses’s diaper bag on the counter, looked inside.

“Uh, Ross,” he said as he reached in. “Is this it?” he asked, pulling an in-ear thermometer from the bag.

“Ugh, yes,” Ross breathed through frustration.

Ross took Moses’s temperature and, noting that it wasn’t too high to handle, gave him some baby tylenol with minimal effort. Finally, Moses settled enough to be put back to bed.

“Ugh, now I know why I never stay over when we meet up at yours,” Aaron grumbled as the two headed back to the bedroom.

“He’s not always here,” Ross protested. “Mum was busy, what was I supposed to do?”

“Don’t you have brothers?”

“Like I’d trust them with Mozza.”

Aaron gave a non-committal grunt, instead just dropping back to the bed. Ross ambled around to the other side, pausing as he pulled the sheets straighter.

“Is it weird that that was… kinda hot?” he asked as he climbed back into bed.

Aaron snorted. “Uh, yeah.”

“I dunno,” Ross continued, moving closer to Aaron and throwing an arm across his torso. “Seeing you with my kid…” Ross pulled Aaron’s back against his chest. “Maybe it’s some kinda instinct or something.” Ross kissed the back of Aaron’s neck, above his shirt collar, and tugged slightly at Aaron’s shirt.

“Uh-uh,” Aaron said, pulling Ross’s hand from his hem and back across his middle. Ross huffed and dropped his head to the pillow.