“Creed is making JJ play the guitar for him as punishment.”

The Kid makes a face. “No one deserves that. Not even Otter.”

“I got this, okay? Go downstairs, keep Dom company. Or better yet. Go home.”

“Kicking me out already, Papa Bear? I might get the idea that you don’t want me here anymore.”

I reach up and put my hand on the back of his neck, leaning forward until our foreheads touch. “I always want you here,” I tell him quietly. “You know that.”

He hums a little under his breath. “Yeah. I know.”

“I’m glad she had you to call. Thank you for coming for her.”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “I just—I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“I know.”

“And you are too, right?”

“Yeah. Or I will be. He’s…. It’s getting close.”

“The babies.”

“Yeah. And one of us was bound to crack first. I just thought it’d be me.”

“You’re stronger than you think, Papa Bear,” he tells me. “I wish you’d remember that.”

“He loves her. As much as you or I do. And we’ll make sure she knows that.”

He hugs me then, and I remember when he was just a little guy, sitting in my lap in the kitchen of the shitty fucking apartment, tugging on my fingers, telling me that everything would be okay. Dom was right. We’ve come so goddamn far.

“Just call if you need anything, okay?” he says near my ear. “Even if you just need us to take her off your hands for a little bit.”

“We will.”

He grins at me as he pulls back. He turns and opens the door to Izzie’s room, leaning his head in. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she says, and I close my eyes because she fits.

“I’m going to head out, okay? Bear’s got some stuff to talk to you about. It’s going to be okay. You hear me, kid?”

“I’m not a kid.”

“They grow up so fast,” he says, voice a little fluttery.

“Get out.”

“You call me if you need me, okay? Always.”

“I know. Now leave so Bear can come in and reassure me like I know he wants to, even though I’m fine.”

“You hear that?” Tyson asks, glancing back at me. “She’s fine.”

“You are so annoying!” she shouts. “God, why do I even put up with you?”

“I love you,” he says.

“I know you do. It’s disgusting. Shut up and go away.”

He laughs. “Will do.”

But before he can exit the doorway, she says, “Thank you. You know. For coming here. For me.”

And I can see how much that affects him by the way he swallows thickly. “Yeah, kid. Sure.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but he shakes his head instead and turns toward the stairs. He doesn’t look back.