The pitiful cries coming through the baby monitor were what woke you up. Rubbing at your bleary eyes, you started to crawl out of bed to grab a bottle from the fridge. But a large hand on your back stopped you.

"Let me get it, darlin'," Billy mumbled, getting up.

Billy started warming up a bottle before going to your son's room. He scooped up your three week old, Gabriel, and rocked him. Billy had been scared to become a dad, even if the thought of you holding your baby made his heart melt. He'd been through too much, suffered too much hurt and done too much bad to consider a child.

And then this little surprise came along. And Billy adored him.

"I know, you're hungry," Billy murmured, rubbing the little guy's back. Gabriel's cries turned into hungry mewls. He flailed his tiny fists.