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We were asked to step aside while the doctors and a couple of nurses worked on removing the tube from Harry's throat

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We were asked to step aside while the doctors and a couple of nurses worked on removing the tube from Harry's throat. Tommy assured us that everything was alright, and we didn't have to worry. Harry would probably make a few noises, but everything was under control. 

The wall they created around him, standing around his bed, made me feel a sudden wave of anxiety. My breathing escalated, while I struggled to get air all the way down to my lungs. My grip on Morgan tightened as panic rose. Morgan was talking to me, trying to calm me down, but my pulse was so high that the racing beat of my heart drowned out her words.

The doctors spoke calmly amongst each other and the room wasn't tense or in any way matching the panic my body was going through. I felt faint, and clutched Morgan's arm, like I was afraid of passing out. 

"Peyton, breathe..." she coached me, taking a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth. "Come on, just look at me." 

I followed her breathing, focusing on her eyes while doing so. It worked and slowly a sense of relief crawled into my lungs as I took a deep breath of air. At first I was surprised at the volume of my own breath, until I realised that it wasn't coming from me, it was Harry taking a deep breath. Harry drew his first breath, a deep, shuddering inhale that seemed to fill him to the tip of his toes. His lungs, temporarily accustomed to the steady, artificial rhythm, now strained to reclaim their function. The second breath was hesitant at first, as a fragile gasp escaped his lips. His chest expanded when he filled his lungs with air, his body was still adjusting to the freedom of unassisted breathing. Slowly his breathing settled into a natural rhythm, each inhale and exhale followed by a soft cough, his body's instinctive reaction to clear the remnants of the tube's passage.

The doctors followed his vitals closely, but there was no sense of urgency or alarm. Tommy gestured for me to come closer, and I reluctantly looked at Morgan, who gave me a small shove. 

"Try and just hold his hand for a bit, Peyton," Elizabeth said as she focused on his heart rate. When she said my name, his pulse escalated. She smiled and gave me an encouraging look. 

I took his hand and held it tightly, while I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Elizabeth gestured for me to speak. I cleared my throat, which was dry and feeling a little rough. "Harry? Baby? Can you hear me?" 

He took a deep breath and his heart rate shot up. I panicked slightly, looking at the doctors for reassurance that he was doing okay. They were calm, which had to mean that everything was alright. A guttural sound escaped from Harry's throat, and his lips made a small smacking noise, as if he was trying to speak. Tears were pooling up in my eyes, but I held on to him so tightly. 

"Are you trying to say something?" I said and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead. "You don't have to speak, baby. Can you squeeze my hand?" 

We all stared at his hand in mine, watching his fingers close around my hand, squeezing my fingers. Morgan let out a sob of relief and the doctors mumbled something between them. 

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