Dutch lay beside you in a very awkward position. His large hand was cradling your small head, taking care not to harm you in the process.

The storm was outside was raging. The dogs were howling but it was peaceful here with you. Dutch had never been more relaxed than when he was with you, his child.

“Hush my darlin’, don’t you cry…” Dutch hummed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You were all he cared about, even more than the gang.