Chapter Text
Severus awoke groggy and disoriented. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. His clothes stuck to him with perspirant, but he could feel the goosebumps coating his arms and legs. The man turned his head, attempting to wriggle out of whatever was pinning his body tightly, when he felt a hand laid on his chest. He stopped to look into the gentle brown eyes of Ginny Weasley, before giving her his best glare.
“Get me out of here!” He said–or he tried. It came out all raspy and breathy, scratching the inside of his throat.
Apparently, whatever was wrong with his voice made it difficult to understand him, or Weasley was just deaf. Instead of unpinning him from whatever was holding him captive, the witch began shushing him and rubbing his chest–two things he was not very happy about.
The red-headed woman lifted him up, carrying him to the familiarity of his nursery and laid him on the changing table. She finally removed his prison, which turned out to be his blanket, and unzipped his sleeper.
He shivered at the cold air on his sweaty skin, it didn’t help the coldness he felt everywhere else. Severus was her frown as she laid her hands on him, touching him in a bunch of random places; his back, neck, under his armpit, and finally his forehead, each one colder than the last.
She quickly changed his wet diaper, before placing him inside the crib, without redressing him. He shivered as she draped his blue blanket over him and handed him Dragon. She popped his pacifier into his mouth before running her fingers through his hair, which was supposed to soothe him?
Unlike when Dada did it, he felt anything but calmed by her actions. She didn’t know how to do it properly, or didn’t care. You were supposed to whisper while you rubbed his chest and tummy, even throwing in a little tickle every once in a while. You weren’t supposed to shush like a librarian, instead it was to be gentle, soft, comforting…like Dada. You were supposed to cuddle him, hold him tight until he felt like all was fine, like the world wasn’t going to crush him beneath its weight. Run your fingers through his hair until his scalp felt so nice. Bounce him until he felt lighter than air, rock him until all the monsters went away, play until Severus laughed, laughed harder than he’d ever done before he’d wound up in that muggle hospital.
Weasley couldn’t do any of those things, only Dada could…then why had he left?
Dada wasn’t supposed to go away. He was supposed to stay, stay when Severus needed him. Needed him…he’d never thought about that before. Severus did need him. He needed his laugh, his comforting hands, his gentle praise, but most of all, he needed his love. Sure he needed diapers and formula and other babyish stuff like that. But he didn’t really want them. He did want to make Dada proud, be his good boy. Maybe Severus would stay after all, especially if this ache was how it felt to be alone.