Ratchet stood in the kitchen, bouncing Nyxon gently in his arms as he tried to prepare a bottle. The baby fussed, tiny hands gripping Ratchet’s shirt, his soft whimpers growing louder. “Almost there, buddy,” Ratchet murmured, his voice calm despite the growing ache in his lower abdomen. He’d been holding it in for far too long, but Nyxon’s needs always came first.
The bottle finally warmed, Ratchet tested it on his wrist before bringing it to Nyxon’s lips. The baby latched on eagerly, his cries dissolving into the soft sound of sucking. Ratchet exhaled in relief, though the pressure in his bladder was impossible to ignore now.
“Alright, little guy,” Ratchet said, adjusting his hold on Nyxon. “We’ve got some errands to run, and—” He paused, shifting uncomfortably. “We might need to make a pit stop first.”
Nyxn’s eyes were half-closed as he drank, blissfully unaware of Ratchet’s predicament. Ratchet chuckled, brushing a finger over the baby’s cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Grabbing the diaper bag and slinging it over his shoulder, Ratchet headed for the door. The city was alive with activity—hovercars zoomed overhead, vendors called out their wares, and the hum of conversation filled the air. Ratchet adjusted Nyxon in his arms, ensuring the baby was secure as he navigated the crowded streets.
The first stop was the market. Xennah had asked him to pick up a few ingredients for dinner, and Ratchet wasn’t about to let her down. He moved through the aisles quickly, his eyes darting between the items on the list and Nyxon, who was now resting peacefully against his chest.
But the pressure was becoming unbearable. Ratchet shifted again, his jaw tightening as he tried to focus on the task at hand. He grabbed the last item—a jar of spice—and headed for the checkout, his steps brisk.
“Heading out already?” the vendor asked, her tone friendly as she rang up the items.
“Yeah, got a lot on my plate today,” Ratchet replied, forcing a smile. His mind was elsewhere, his body screaming for relief.
“Cute baby,” the vendor said, nodding toward Nyxon.
“Thanks,” Ratchet said, his voice strained. He paid quickly and left the market, his pace quickening as he scanned the area for a restroom.
But the city didn’t make it easy. The nearest facility was a few blocks away, and Ratchet’s desperation was growing with every step. Nyxon stirred in his arms, letting out a small whimper.
“I know, buddy, I know,” Ratchet said, his voice soft but tense. “We’ll be there soon.”
He reached the restroom just in time, pushing the door open with his shoulder. The room was small but clean, thank goodness, and Ratchet let out a sigh of relief as he somehow managed to lock the door behind him.
Balancing Nyxon in one arm, Ratchet fumbled with his free hand to unzip his pants, his movements awkward but determined. The moment he did, a wave of relief washed over him, so intense it nearly made his knees buckle. He leaned heavily against the cool tiled wall, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as the pressure finally ebbed away.
Nyxon, oblivious to his father’s predicament, cooed softly in his arms, his tiny fingers curling into the fabric of Ratchet’s shirt. The warm weight of his son against his chest was a grounding presence, even in this most private and human of moments. Ratchet’s breath came out in a long, shaky exhale, his shoulders relaxing as the tension drained from his body.
“There we go,” he murmured to himself, his voice low and relieved. He glanced down at Nyxon, who was now dozing peacefully, and couldn’t help but smile despite the absurdity of the situation.
“You’re lucky you’re so tiny right now,” he whispered, brushing a finger gently over Nyxon’s cheek. “Otherwise, this would’ve been a lot harder.”
He quickly finished up, zipping his pants and shifting Nyxon to a more comfortable position in his arms. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Ratchet took a moment to collect himself, savouring the quiet before stepping back out into the bustling city.
As he washed his hands, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—a slightly frazzled father with a sleeping baby in his arms. Despite the chaos, there was a sense of satisfaction in his reflection. He’d handled the moment, just as he always did, even if it wasn’t exactly graceful.
“Alright, buddy,” he said softly, adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder. “Let’s get back out there.”
With that, Ratchet pushed the door open and stepped back into the rhythm of the city, ready to tackle whatever came next.
As he stepped back onto the street, Ratchet felt a renewed sense of energy. Nyxon looked up at him with wide eyes, his expression innocent and trusting. Ratchet smiled, his heart swelling with affection.
“Alright, kiddo,” he said, adjusting the diaper bag on his shoulder. “Let’s get this stuff home before your mom starts wondering where we are.”
As they walked, Nyxon began to fuss again, his small cries growing louder. Ratchet paused, his brow furrowing as he felt a sudden warmth against his chest. He glanced down, noticing the slight dampness spreading through the fabric of Nyxon’s diaper. The baby squirmed in his arms, his face scrunched up in discomfort.
Ratchet adjusted his hold, his hand instinctively pressing against Nyxon’s bottom to check the diaper. Sure enough, it was soaked, the weight and dampness unmistakable. He could feel the moisture through the layers of padding, a clear sign that Nyxon had just wet himself.
For a brief moment, Ratchet felt a strange sense of relief—both for Nyxon, who was clearly uncomfortable, and for himself, knowing that this little mishap was easily fixable.
Nyxon’s fussing quickly turned into full-blown cries, his face scrunching up as the wetness of his diaper made him uncomfortable. Ratchet’s heart immediately went out to him, his hand instinctively rubbing soothing circles on the baby’s back.
“Oh, buddy, I know,” Ratchet murmured, his voice soft and full of empathy. “It’s not fun being soggy, huh?” He shifted Nyxon slightly, cradling him closer to his chest. The baby’s little fists clenched and unclenched as he cried, his tiny body trembling with the effort.
Ratchet pressed a gentle kiss to Nyxon’s forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Shh, it’s okay, little one. Daddy’s here, and we’ll get you all cleaned up in no time.” He rocked Nyxon gently, his movements steady and reassuring. The baby’s cries began to taper off, his breathing calming as he felt the warmth and security of Ratchet’s embrace.
“There we go,” Ratchet said softly, brushing a finger over Nyxon’s tear-stained cheek. “You’re such a brave boy, aren’t you?” Nyxon sniffled, his big eyes locking onto Ratchet’s face. The trust in that gaze made Ratchet’s heart swell.
He adjusted the diaper bag on his shoulder, already mentally preparing for the quick change ahead. Despite the inconvenience, there was something comforting about the familiarity of the situation. It was moments like these that reminded him of the deep bond he shared with Nyxon, even in the midst of the chaos.
Ratchet sat down on the shaded bench, placing Nyxon carefully on his lap. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at the irony of the situation. Just moments ago, he’d been the one desperate for relief, and now here he was, helping his son with the same predicament. He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he rummaged through the diaper bag.
“Looks like you’re following in your old man’s footsteps already, huh?” Ratchet teased gently, brushing a finger over Nyxon’s cheek. The baby cooed in response, his tiny hands reaching out toward Ratchet’s face.
He pulled out a clean diaper and the necessary supplies, laying them out on the bench beside him. Nyxon’s cries had softened into occasional whimpers, his big eyes staring up at Ratchet with a mix of trust and curiosity. Ratchet worked quickly but carefully, his movements practiced despite the occasional clumsiness.
As he fastened the new diaper in place, Nyxon let out a contented sigh, his little body relaxing against Ratchet’s hands. Ratchet laughed softly, the sound warm and full of affection. “There we go, buddy. All better,” he said, giving Nyxon a playful tap on the nose.
The baby responded with a gurgle, his tiny face breaking into a toothless smile. Ratchet felt a wave of warmth course through him, the kind of deep, unshakable love that only a parent could understand. He leaned back for a moment, letting himself savour the quiet joy of the moment.
“You’re gonna give me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Ratchet said, his voice light-hearted but tinged with adoration. Nyxon’s fingers wrapped around his thumb again, the grip surprisingly strong for such a small hand.
Ratchet smiled down at him, his heart full. “Yeah, you’re definitely my kid,” he murmured, gently lifting Nyxon back into his arms. As he packed up the diaper bag, he couldn’t help but chuckle once more. Life with Nyxon was full of surprises, but it was also filled with moments like these—the kind he wouldn’t trade for anything.
