Cop Cuties (chenford/the rookie) stories

Chenford baby

The sound of sobs filled the air and for the first time in his life it didn't mean something bad.

He wasn't comforting the family of a victim whose body they'd rolled up on, bug eyed and blue lipped, ODing on whatever drug floated their boat. (or sunk it)

He was not holding onto his own loved ones, mourning the loss of yet another friend in the force.

He wasn't battling his own anxiety in the shower, the only place he had ever let himself cry. No soap ran down his face with the water  droplets, so that he could almost convince himself there had been no tears.

No, a sob filled the air, and it filled Tim's heart with a pure and beautiful joy. He felt it radiated deep in his chest, clenching into his very heart and knocking the air out of him so hard he wanted to start crying too.
The sobs came from his child. His newborn baby, and they were the cries of new lungs coming to work and filling with air. Cries of a baby being shocked by the sudden switch from darkness to light.

Another set of tears filled the air soon, and he realized it was his own happy cries, followed soon after by Lucy's.  It was pure and raw and original and he had never experienced anything better in his life.

"Want to cut the chord dad?" asked one of the nurses, an older lady with curly red hair and dark brown eyes. She gave him a sweet smile. At least, he assumed she did, based off of the crinkle around her eyes and the mask covering her actual mouth.

He was startled back to the busy and bustling reality by this. But still the room seemed almost completely silent except for his babies cries. "Yeah," He looked up, hands moving on auto pilot as the nurse showed him how to clamp and cut the chord, his eyes flitting up while he worked to meet Lucy's. Midway, his eyes caught on something else. There, in the gloved arms of a doctor was his child. His baby, his whole world. The doctor moved, careful not to tug on the freshly cut chord, and placed baby down on Lucys chest.

"Oooh," she cooed, arms reaching up to cradle her child instinctively. One arm wrapped around to hold the head, the other on tiny feet. "Hi sweet girl,"  Tim's heart surged at her words.  sweet girl. girl, he had a daughter!  A smile crept across Lucy's face, and she looked up at him. "You were right," she said.

They had decided to keep the babies gender, a surprise until birth, but her mother's intuition had said it would be a boy. Tim had stuck by his own belief that she would be a little girl, that looks exactly like lucy.

he walked up and crouched next to the head of the bed so that he could get a better look at both  lucy and their baby girl. After a couple moments of skin to skin, she turned and looked to him. "Tim." she whispered, looking at him with so much love. "Do you want to hold your daughter?"

Tim would remember those words and the way she had said them for the rest of his life. The slight intonation in her voice, the breast's in her speech just slightly. They were words that surpassed anything else that had ever been said and were poetic in their own.

"Yes," he said, "please,"

She gently lifted their daughter, who let out a loud cry at the frustration of being yanked from her mothers loving embrace. He cradled her into his arms, rocking her just slightly as his thumb brushed at the tiny whips of hair sticking out from under her little blue and pink cap. "Shh don't cry sweetheart," he said, planting a little kiss to her forehead. "You don't need to cry, daddy is here. Daddy's got you," her sobs quieted and he leaned into his chest, stretching a tiny hand out and gripping around his finger.

"I love you so much sweet girl," he said, rocking her back and forth in his arms so gently. " Mommy and me and going to love you and protect you," he made the vow and he knew he would always uphold it.