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

Emmett sighed—a deep, contented sigh—and relaxed completely.

“His oxygen levels are better today,” Jessica explained. “The infection’s responding to antibiotics. They think we can go home in two days. But every time a doctor or nurse comes in, he panics. Except… except he doesn’t panic with you.”

“Different kind of scary,” Dale said. “I’m scary on the outside—got the leather, the tattoos, the biker look. So his brain already expects me to be scary. Ain’t no surprise. But doctors and nurses? They look nice and safe, then they hurt him with needles and medicine. His brain can’t reconcile that. With me, what you see is what you get.”

Over the next two days, Jessica brought Emmett to Dale’s room four times a day. Each visit, Emmett would climb into bed with Dale, and they’d just sit there. Dale making his motorcycle rumble. Emmett finally getting the sensory regulation he needed. Sometimes they’d watch cartoons on Dale’s phone. Sometimes Emmett would just sleep. Sometimes he’d talk—single words mostly, but more than he’d spoken in months.

“Bike,” Emmett said on day two, pointing to a patch on Dale’s vest.

“That’s right, buddy. That’s a motorcycle. I ride one. Or used to, before I got sick.”

“Dale sick?”

“Yeah, buddy. Real sick.”

“Make better?” Emmett asked with heartbreaking hope.

Dale’s eyes filled with tears. “Can’t make me better, little man. But you know what? Sitting here with you makes me feel better. Not sick better. Heart better.”

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.Continue reading…