“Just tell me what you need, kid,” Dabi pleads.

As expected, the crying baby in his arms doesn’t reply. Dabi is getting desperate. Nothing he’s tried has gotten his son to calm down. It kills him to wake you up for help when he said he’s got it covered, but he’s at a total loss here.

He carries your son to your bedroom. The guilt in his chest grows as you stir awake from the crying. “Sorry,” he whispers, “I can’t get him to stop.”