Hannah & David
"Shepard. Shepard. S-H-E-P—"
"Here it is," the nurse says with a tight, irritated smile. "Shepard, Maternity."
"Maternity?" Hannah repeats. "Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard? Came in on the Normandy?"
"She's the only Shepard in the system, ma'am. Maternity's on level six. Do you need directions?"
He points down to the elevators and turns back to his console with a dismissive sniff. Hannah balls her fists on the counter's edge, but David's gentle tug on her shoulder refocuses her frustration to fear. They stand close in the elevator, not talking, and Hannah counts each floor under her breath.
The nurse on level six is much more accommodating.
"Room 4-7-C," she says, with a genuine smile balanced between rosy cheeks. "Right at the end."
They don't need to check the doors—from down the hall they can see Jack, curled on a bench outside, frowning in sleep. The room is dark, curtains drawn, lights dim. David is careful in closing the door.
Jeff is asleep in a chair pulled right up to the bed, arm stretched out to Jane, who curls around their joined hands. Hannah approaches them as quiet as she can, but Jeff twitches himself awake.
"Admiral, Captain," he yawns, and David shakes off his salute.
"At ease, Lieutenant."
"You just get here?"
"I had to pretend I was scared of a court-martial," Hannah whispers, leaning over the bed, surveying her sleeping daughter. Jeff laughs quietly, and then glances to the door as it opens. A nurse enters backwards, pulling along a little cart.
"See, brought you back," she coos. "Just like I promised."
Jeff stands and untangles himself from Jane's hand, grinning. Hannah feels David's arm tighten around her back, and realizes that she's holding her breath. Jeff bends over the cart and gently lifts a tiny bundle.
"I think she wanted to be the one to tell you," he says, smoothing back a corner of the blanket. "Meet baby Shepard-Alenko."
He hands the baby over, and for a moment, they are an awkward jumble of arms and fingers. The baby, unhappy at the continued movement, whimpers and squirms in the swaddling.
"Baby boy," Jeff says. "No name yet."
He turns to the nurse, who is running her omnitool over Jane's sleeping form.
"Grandma," he says, pointing first to Hannah, then to David. "Grandpa."
"Congratulations," the nurse whispers. "I'll get you added to the system as soon as possible, so you can come and go as you like."
Hannah hears herself say something vaguely grateful, but she's absorbed in examining her grandson. The Alenko in him is obvious, those dark eyes staring so steadily, the barest hint of a cleft chin, the serious brow, the smattering of black hair across his head. But there's some Shepard, of course, in movement mostly, the little hand that works itself free and latches onto David's finger.
"Hey, there," he whispers, peering down over her shoulder. They hear the door open and Jeff exiting.
"I'll take Jack down to surgical. Get an update on Kaidan."
"Thanks," Jane rasps, waking, and Hannah looks up at her daughter through tears.
"Surprise, Mom," she says.