CREDIT: @arianwen44 apparently did another commission for Sarah and I am dying I cannot handle how many images we have of Jazz and Devin and especially not any of them from the parenting!AU.
The one of Many Parts that I have written for the Parenting!AU:
Jazz lifted his head from his prayer-folded hands and sniffed. He’d been dragged out of the delivery room, his ears filled with frantic, desperate shouts. Jessica had gone pale, her eyes unfocused and her grip worryingly lax.
Devin’s arm was around him now, a familiar and much appreciated, if almost unwanted, weight. And now a man stood before them -- the same one that had warned them against sneaking food in for Jessica, his facial features so obviously controlled.
“How is she?” he asked, his voice roughened with lack of sleep and panic and dread. He recited another Hail Mary in his head in the time it took for the doctor’s expression to shift, subtly.
“Your daughter has been taken to the NICU -- but she appears to be perfectly fine. We’re setting up a suite for the two of you, and once we’re done we’ll bring you both there so the nurses can show you how to feed her.”
“Jessica said she wanted to breastfeed,” Jazz said, his jaw tightening. “It’s better for the baby.”
The doctor licked his lips and maintained eye contact, folding his hands in front of him and dipping his head. Devin stiffened beside him, his arm tightening around Jazz’s body.
“I regret to inform you that…”
The rest of his words didn’t register, but the words came all the same. Jazz blinked once, then twice, the garbled end of that sentence still hitting their mark. And then the doctor continued to talk -- something about support groups and how Jazz could probably locate a milk bank, if he was insistent on following Jessica’s wishes.
Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. Jazz licked his own lips and swallowed, hard, nodding as the doctor stepped off. Jessica didn’t have family. She didn’t have a steady girlfriend. She had the girls at the ‘Queen and Jazz, and that was it, as far as he knew.
Devin pulled him close, cradling Jazz’s head to his shoulder and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of Jazz’s neck. Jazz closed his eyes and breathed in deep, Devin’s scent and the drift of Devin’s fingers in his hair doing nothing to settle the ache forming in his chest.
He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and Devin didn’t speak either, as they held each other. Jazz felt like he should cry. He wanted to cry. But instead, he found himself sagging against his boyfriend. He didn’t even have the crib set up yet -- not the one at their house, anyway. He’d set up Jessica’s for her, but theirs --
“Can go home and set up the crib, cutie,” Devin offered, his voice quiet. “Can set everything up as best I can while you stay here --”
Jazz blinked, lifting his head and furrowing his brow. Had he been saying all of that out loud? Frowning, Jazz shook his head and buried his face in the crook of Devin’s neck. “I want you here,” he said. He paused, and then -- “There’s a lot we haven’t done yet for the house, if we’re even --”
There had been mention of putting the baby up for adoption. He and Jessica weren’t married, so he wasn’t legally obligated to the child. The birth certificate hadn’t been written up yet. They could leave his name off it and that was it, he could walk away and never see his daughter, his angel, and --
“Fucking keeping her, aren’t we?” Devin grumbled, kissing the top of Jazz’s head. “Can ask Wes to put the crib together for us, if you want… Sure he’ll be all over this.”
Jazz let out a breath that could almost be called a laugh. “Okay,” he said. He nodded again, more to himself than anything as he swallowed hard. “Okay. Yes. We’re keeping her. Yes. Okay.”
Devin chuckled, his thin frame rumbling with it. “Breathe, cutie,” he whispered, kissing Jazz’s forehead. They held each other for a few more moments, Jazz’s face buried against Devin’s neck as they both breathed in and out together, Jazz’s breathing erratic at first as panic and grief threatened to overwhelm him, until he was matching breaths with Devin as best as he could.
At some point, someone cleared their throat. “Mr. Callahan, the room is ready for you and baby Callahan. Are you ready to meet your daughter?”
Jazz sniffed and looked up at the woman. Her expression was soft, and her eyes didn’t once flit to Devin nor how his arms were still wrapped around Jazz protectively. He then glanced at Devin. “Come with me?” he croaked, offering Devin a watery smile.
Devin blinked, then gave a slight, jerky nod of his head. He stood up slowly, pulling Jazz to his feet with him. “‘Course, cutie,” he murmured, keeping an arm around Jazz’s waist.
“Follow me then, you two,” the nurse said, turning on her heel and guiding the two of them through the halls of labor and delivery. Jazz’s stomach twisted in his throat, but he kept his focus on the sensation of Devin pressed close to him.
It was a room with a singular bed, devoid of almost any medical equipment. There was a bassinet beside the bed, another nurse standing beside it, and Jazz covered his face with his hands as the bundle inside it moved, a quiet cry escaping it.
His daughter. His daughter, wrapped tightly in a small blanket. Jazz found himself stopping dead in his tracks, tears filling his eyes. He moved one hand to his chest and clutched at his heart as he thought of Jessica -- Jessica, who would never see their angel --
“Can I hold her?” he squeaked, the words leaving him in a rush. The nurses chuckled and he felt Devin laugh more than he heard him, causing blood to rush to his ears. “Of course,” the first nurse said, gently guiding Jazz away from Devin and toward the bassinet. “Be mindful of her head,” she said, picking his daughter up and slowly easing her into Jazz’s waiting arms. “Do you have a name for her yet?”
Sleepy dark blue eyes stared up at him, and Jazz noticed the tiny curls coating the top of her head. Her hair was brown, like Devin’s. His heart pounded in his chest as he drifted a finger over her cheek, his breath caught in his throat as she turned to it. “She really is an angel,” he whispered, glancing up at Devin, who had moved to stand beside Jazz.
Devin placed a light hand on Jazz’s back, giving him a soft smile in return. “Think that’s her name, cutie.”
Jazz furrowed his brow, a slight frown tugging on his lips. “What? Angel? Devin, that’s --” He glanced down at the cooing newborn in his arms and felt the smile stretch across his lips. He turned to Devin again, standing on his toes to press a kiss to Devin’s cheek. “That’s perfect, sweetheart, thank you.”
