how do you dad...? [closed]

As soon as the wicker basket was delivered to his doorstep, Harvey only had to take one glance under the fresh blue blanket to understand the circumstances that were dropped into his lap. So he grabbed the basket and ran.

It didn't take him long to reach his destination. He wasn't equipped to handle this situation. But he knew somebody here would be able to take it off his hands. Or so he hoped. He quickly pushed the door open, his steps hard and fast as he rushed to the front desk, placing the basket on the counter and opening his mouth to speak. "Hey, I can't handle this, uh... thing. Who can take it off my hands?"

The "it" that Harvey was referring to was, in fact, a little dark-haired baby boy, who coddled the blanket that lay over top. Adorned on the onesie that the three-month-old wore was a sticky note labeled; 'Your problem now. Nicholas Oliver Roosevelt'. Along with a few clean diapers and what the red-head assumed was the child's papers was a silver cross strung on a dainty chain. It was clear what had happened. That damn nun from Whatsitcalled, Maine got pregnant. And now, the winter was left with the products of their sin. He was starting to regret his bucket list.

His thoughts returned back to the present. Baby Nick made a sound as the desk lady pulled away the cover of his blanket and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry sir, but we're not an adoption agen-"

"T-Then find me one, I-I can't be a dad. Who the hell expects someone my age to raise a goddamn kid?!" For the first time in what felt like years, he was flustered. Nicholas squeaked and his father flinched. Harvey could barely look at his son without choking on the lump that stuck itself deep in his throat. He was not equipped to be a father. His own father could barely raise one child, let alone the 12, and later 13 he was stuck with. How did anyone expect him to be able to do the same with such a lack of example to follow?

He could see the lady open her mouth to protest, but before she could get a word out he cut her off. "Just take the kid, I can't raise it," he spoke curtly, spinning on his heel and hightailing it to the door.

A certain teenage father had been watching over the four-year-olds at the park when he heard frantic steps flying into the entrance. Apparently, his attention wasn't the only one turned as the other aid on duty had followed his gaze to the front. Wordlessly they shared a look and the blond slowly followed in suit, catching the tail end of the front desk aid and the red-head.

'More people?' The blond thought, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh. Leo stood in the doorframe, with a deep-set frown on his face. Blue eyes parted back open as Harvey turned to leave, colliding headlong into him. Regaining his balance, Leo straightened his posture and stared into Harvey's eyes.

"You can't leave your son without a father." His voice was shockingly even. This wasn't the first time Leo had to convince someone to be a parent and he had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be his last. He wondered to himself where he would be if he didn't take in Shepard. If he tried to pawn him off to the first place he thought of. If he refused to care for his son. A pang in his heart caused Leo to glance back at the wicker basket on the front desk.

Not a life without Shepard. Never without him. Maybe that is why Leo felt something for this man trying to remove the responsibility of fatherhood from his shoulders. The mother must not be in the picture for him to deliver the baby there. Same way Keirsta left Shepard at the doorstep. Same way he panicked at the thought of raising him alone, and at the such a young age.

"He needs you." Leo almost continued his sentence, and you need him. The words fell flat. Leo couldn't possibly know anything about this man. What he did know what experience, that a child is better off with one parent than none.