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

Forty-five minutes. An hour.

Nurse Patricia brought Dale’s chemo IV to him. “If you won’t come back to your room, I’ll bring treatment to you. Hospital might fire me, but you’re finishing this treatment.”

She hooked Dale back up right there in the chair. Chemo dripped into his arm while he held a sleeping toddler. The contrast was stark—poison flowing into a dying man while he gave life-saving rest to a child who desperately needed it.

Two hours passed. Dale’s brothers found him. Snake, Repo, and Bull stood in the doorway, staring.

“Brother, you’ve been gone two hours,” Snake said quietly. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” Dale whispered, careful not to wake Emmett. “I’m useful.”

Repo understood immediately. He’d been with Dale through every diagnosis, every bad scan, every time a doctor said there was nothing more they could do. He’d watched Dale struggle with feeling like a burden, like he was just waiting around to die.

But right now? Dale wasn’t dying. He was helping.

“How long you gonna sit there?” Bull asked.

“Long as they need me to,” Dale replied.

It ended up being six hours.

Six hours of Dale holding Emmett while Jessica slept and Marcus dozed in a chair. Six hours of chemotherapy dripping into a dying man’s arm while he gave everything he had left to a toddler who needed him.

Around hour four, Emmett stirred slightly. His eyes opened, and for a moment, he looked confused. Then he saw Dale’s face and didn’t panic. Instead, he just snuggled deeper into the biker’s chest and went back to sleep.

“That’s right, little man,” Dale whispered. “You’re safe. Dale’s got you.”

When Emmett finally woke up around hour six, he didn’t scream. He looked up at Dale with wide eyes and said one word: “More.”

“More what, buddy?” Dale asked softly.Continue reading…