INT. NICU — MORNING

The NICU hums.
Incubators.
IV pumps.
Soft alarms.

A recliner has been pulled beside Baby A’s incubator.
A privacy screen half-circles the space.

CPAP tubing loops carefully from the incubator to her face.

Link stands beside the chair.
Two NICU nurses move with practiced precision, checking lines, taping slack, securing the CPAP hat.

Dr. Kasliwal stands nearby. Observing. Calm.

Link doesn’t step forward yet.

This isn’t watching from the side of an incubator.
This requires him.

He unclips the sling slowly.
The sudden weight shift pulls at his shoulder.
A flicker of pain crosses his face. Manageable. Secondary.
He rolls his shoulder once. Grounds himself.

Kasliwal notices.

KASLIWAL
You okay?

LINK
Yeah.

Not entirely true. 

He removes his shirt carefully.
Sits.
Awkward. Unsure where to place his hands.

NURSE
We’ll lift her.
Nothing comes off. CPAP stays on.
Just support her head.

Link nods.
Swallows.

LINK
(raw, contained)
Jo should be here.

Kasliwal meets his eyes.

KASLIWAL
She will be.
(a beat)
You’re not taking her place.
(another beat)
This is yours too. 

Link exhales slowly.

The nurses lift Baby A from the incubator.
She startles slightly during transfer.
Heart rate rises on the monitor.

CPAP tubing tugs.

One nurse adjusts quickly.

Link glances at Dr. Kasliwal.

KASLIWAL
(soft)
It’s okay. 
She's just reacting to the move.

They position her upright against Link’s bare chest.

Skin to skin.

Link is already leaning forward.

He slides his good hand beneath her diapered hips. Instinctive, secure.

His injured arm comes up more carefully, supporting her back, his fingers steady at the base of her head.

He knows how to hold a baby.
Just not one this small.
Or this wired.

NURSE
Perfect.
Just keep her head straight.
Make sure the tubing isn’t pulling.

Link adjusts by a fraction, chin aligned, CPAP secure.
They lower her onto his chest.
Upright.
Knees tucked.
Her cheek resting against his chest.
A warm blanket tucked around them.

For a moment, Baby A fusses.
Her respiratory rate quickens.

A soft alarm sounds.

A nurse adjusts the CPAP tubing.
Link freezes.
Looks at Kasliwal.

KASLIWAL
That’s normal. Give her a second.

Link forces himself to slow his breathing.
Baby A’s movements slow.
Her tiny chest rises in a softer rhythm.
Her heart rate trends down.

Not dramatic.
Just steadier.

NURSE
There we go.

Kasliwal glances at the monitor.

KASLIWAL
She’s regulating.
(a beat, to the nurse)
Let's keep a close eye on her oxygen levels with handling.

Link lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He looks down at her.
Small.
Warm.
Real.

His injured shoulder trembles slightly under the strain of holding still.

He adjusts slightly, careful not to disturb the CPAP.

LINK
(whisper)
Hi.

Baby A’s fingers flex against his chest.
Reflexive.

His eyes burn.
He doesn’t wipe the tears.

Across from him, Baby B lies in her incubator.
HFOV vibrating rhythmically.
Still sedated.
The oscillator doing the work for her.
The contrast is quiet. Heavy.

Kasliwal watches the monitor one more time.

KASLIWAL
We’ll start with twenty minutes.

Measured.

Link nods.
He lowers his chin gently toward Baby A’s head.

LINK
(quiet)
You’re doing so good.

Her breathing is still slightly irregular, but steadier.

INT. NICU — TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Time passes.
The nurses step forward.

NURSE
We’ll move her back now.

The transfer is careful. Controlled.
Monitors remain stable.
CPAP secure.
Baby A is returned to the incubator.

Link stands slowly.
Shoulder stiff.
Chest still warm.
He pulls his shirt back on.
Repositions the sling.

Slowly, he moves to Baby B’s incubator.
Slides his hand inside.

Her fingers curl around his finger.
Tiny.
But strong.
That undoes him.

LINK
(quiet)
I know.

Kasliwal joins him.

KASLIWAL
Her numbers were a little better this morning.
(a beat)
We may be able to step her down to conventional ventilation later today.

Careful optimism.
Not a promise.

KASLIWAL (CONT’D)
We’re seeing a bit more response to the medication.

LINK
(soft)
That’s my girl.

He stays there a moment longer.
Hand inside the incubator.
Present.

Kasliwal watches a moment more, then quietly steps away.

The monitors hum.
Two tiny lives breathe.

For the first time in days, he is not just watching.

FADE OUT.