Page 62 of Hush, Little Baby

“Here,” he says, already tearing it open. “Gum might help, or we can try having him eat something.”

Nikolaus takes the piece before Constantine can hand it directly to me, unwraps it, and holds it near my mouth.

For a second, I just look at it. It’s such a stupidly normal solution to a pain that feels enormous.

“Open,” Nikolaus says softly, placing the gum on my tongue with careful fingers when my mouth opens, then draws his hand back, watching me like I am made of glass. “Chew, baby.”

I do.

At first, it hurts. My jaw is tight from all the failed yawns, so I chew slowly, then faster when Constantine makes a small, encouraging gesture with two fingers.

“Swallow while you chew,” he says. “Gently. Don’t force it.”

Nikolaus repeats the instruction in a softer voice because he has apparently decided that all information must pass through him before it reaches me. “Chew and swallow, sweetheart. That’s it.”

I chew and swallow over and over, but nothing is happening. One time, I think it’s going to pop, but it doesn’t, and I whimper in pained frustration.

Nikolaus doesn’t once take his eyes off of me, constantly observing my face for signs of change. “Keep going, baby.”

I do, eyes watering, fingers twisting in my blankie as the plane climbs and the gum turns soft between my teeth. I swallow again, and this time my left ear gives a sharp, sudden pop that hurts for half a second before the relief washes through me so intensely that my whole body sags.

A second later, the right ear follows.

Pop.

Sound rushes back in properly, not louder exactly, but clearer, like someone has removed a glass bowl from over my head. The pain doesn’t disappear completely, but the terrible pressure breaks apart, leaving only a dull soreness.

I let out a shaky breath, and Nikolaus lets out one too, nearly at the same time.

“There,” Constantine says, fastening his belt again. “That should settle as we level out. ”

Nikolaus sighs, then asks me, “Better?”

When I nod, his eyes close for a brief moment, and when they open again, the concern is still there, but it has softened into something heavier. Something possessive. Something almost wounded by the fact that I hurt and he did not know how to fix it immediately.

“My poor baby,” he murmurs, bringing his hand up to cup my cheek. My face warms as he strokes the side of my face.

The plane continues climbing, but the gum helps now, each swallow easier than the last. My jaw slowly unclenches from the worst of it, though the episode leaves me wrung out and shaky.

Nikolaus unbuckles the safety strap as the plane finally levels out, then shifts me on his lap until I’m essentially lying on my side along his thighs, facing him.

“Constantine,” he calls.

“Yes?”

“Keep gum with him whenever he flies.”

“I already added it to the list.”

“The list?”

“The ever-growing care and feeding of Charlie document I’ve made on my phone. You can’t expect me to remember everything about him.”

Nikolaus gives him a cold look.

Constantine does not appear particularly moved by it. “What? Ears sensitive during flights. Gum helps. That’s the kind of thing that goes on the list. I can’t trust myself to just know that if I don’t note it somewhere.”

Nikolaus watches Constantine for a moment with a flat expression, then seems to decide this is not worth arguing about, and redirects his attention to me.