You are the love that came without warning...

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"You are the love that came without warning; you had my heart before I could even say no."


The room has fallen silent - or, perhaps the more likely scenario, Tom has lost awareness of his surroundings. The little cherub, his little angel, has his focus. He shifts his arm, re-situating how he is positioned, careful not to remove his fingertips from the little one laying within the cradle. He'll remain in contact. He wills it to be so.

Baby Girl Hiddleston - because they've yet to officially decide on a name. [Rachel. Her name. They've just not yet vocalized the choice.]

Before he realizes it, he's speaking to her, voice contained to a low murmur. "You were unexpected, angel. And such a gift. So welcome a surprise. So welcome... And so loved, my angel. So very loved. You were the love that came without warning; you had my heart before I could even say no. Not that I would, or could ever fathom saying no. To you? My precious angel..."

He is sitting hunched forward, eyes downcast, all to better see into the bassinet. He doesn't dare speak her name. Not yet. He holds her name deep within him, because that will make it all-too-final.

"Tom?" Hillary is awake again, unhappy to discover she's drifted off. Both of them are desperate to have every last moment they can manage. "You promised me..."

They both seem to be speaking through filters, emotion welling up within them. These moments, so precious... She had made him promise to keep her awake. It was a promise he'd failed, but for good intentions. "I know, Hill. I know, but you seemed so exhausted."

She pulls herself up off the pillows, wearily moving so she too can peer into the bassinet. "She's?"

Hillary can't even finish the question for worry. Tom offers a strained smile to his wife, "Still with us. She's still here, Hill."

For now. The doctors had assured them that their daughter would not survive the night. There was nothing to be done but wait and gather every moment with her that they could. 

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