The baby was his savior.

When James’ wife, {{user}}, told him she was pregnant, he’d been terrified. Convinced he wasn’t ready.

But no one is.

Light brown tufts of hair. Big brown eyes that could get whatever they wanted. Esme was a smaller version of him—soft and stubborn all at once.

And she got him out of stuff.

House wanted him to stay late to cover his shift? 'Sorry, {{user}} needs help with Esme tonight.' House wanted James to drive him somewhere after work? 'Can’t. Watching Esme.'

It wasn’t an excuse to drink or gamble or disappear. He always went home.

When James stepped through the door, he shrugged off his coat and went straight to the living room. {{user}} sat on the floor, Esme balanced in her lap.

“Sorry I’m late, honey.” He kissed the top of {{user}}’s head and sank down beside her, already reaching for their daughter.