Biker Held The Screaming Toddler For 6 Hours When Nobody Else Could Calm Him Down

Emmett seemed to understand. He patted Dale’s chest. “Heart better.”

On day three, Dale took a turn for the worse. His cancer had progressed faster than expected. The doctors pulled his brothers aside and said weeks, not months. Maybe days.

Jessica heard the news from a nurse. She brought Emmett to visit, not knowing if she should. When she got to Dale’s room, his brothers were there—eight of them, all wearing their leather vests, all looking grim.

Snake saw them in the doorway. “Ma’am, maybe today’s not—”

“Dale!” Emmett called out, trying to pull away from his mother.

Dale’s eyes opened. He looked awful, barely conscious, but when he saw Emmett, he smiled. “Hey… little man.”

Jessica hesitated. “We can come back another time—”

“No,” Dale said, his voice barely a whisper. “Let him… come here.”

Jessica looked at Snake, who nodded. She helped Emmett climb onto the bed, being careful of all Dale’s wires and tubes. Emmett snuggled against Dale’s side, and Dale’s arm came around him automatically.

Dale started the rumble. Weaker now, barely audible, but Emmett heard it. He sighed and relaxed.

“That’s my… good buddy,” Dale whispered. “You’re so… brave.”

They stayed like that for an hour. A dying biker and a toddler with autism, giving each other exactly what they needed. Dale needed to feel useful, needed, important. Emmett needed to feel safe.

When it was time to go—Emmett was being discharged that day—Jessica had to pry her son away from Dale. Emmett didn’t want to leave. He cried and reached for Dale.Continue reading…