Title: great and small (you surpass them all)

Author: royal_chandler

Summary: When his child is born, Matthew understands.

Rating: K+/PG

Disclaimer: I do not own OLTL or any of its characters.

:::

On New Year's Day of 2012, Matthew Buchanan falls in love.

:::

Matthew wakes up on New Year's Eve feeling completely lousy. His family, sparkling decorations and joy and laughter don't bring him good cheer. But honestly, it's not that big of a change. Recently most of his mornings have started that way, Matthew hardly being able to find the motivation to lift himself out of bed, only for his mood to turn more sour while the sky darkens. It's all very poetic, how the bitter winds and icy storms mock him and beat against his bedroom window. It's during the long nights that Matthew truly can't find peace. He can't help but watch, rewatch, rewind, fast-forward—more often than not pause and wonder what the hell—the weird reel of the past year, from killing Eddie Ford to waking up and feeling his unborn child move beneath his palm.

It should really go without saying but Matthew enthusiastically wishes 2011 good riddance.

However the tides don't change with the calendars and when Matthew's sat to breakfast on the last day of December, his cells rings…as does his mom's and his dad's. They all look at their phones, then each other and back at their phones. Nora chooses to be the one to answer, worry deeply woven into her cautious hello. And Matthew hates that. It's something he's picked up on since his return from Philadelphia. He hates that he's the cause of that, that him spending six months in a coma has caused his mom to be that afraid of something as mundane as answering a phone. Sure that bad news is creeping around the corner.

She becomes urgent on her end and jumps out of her chair, repeatedly shaking her head yes and exclaiming, "okay, okay." Apparently, they'll be somewhere soon.

"What's going on," Matthew asks once she hangs up.

"That was Phylicia," Nora says, her hand still clutching the phone. "It's, it's Destiny, honey. She's in labor."

:::

Matthew doesn't breathe until he sees Destiny's face.

(Call it impossible but he'll swear from that day forward that he didn't.)

:::

When Matthew finds her on the hospital bed, his heart aches like it never has before. In a second flat, he's by her side, closer to Shaun than he thinks the older man is probably comfortable with but not caring because his best friend is in pain and somehow, it feels like it pulses through him too.

Understandably she doesn't notice him until after the contraction passes. She gives him a smile that's unbelievable. Even though they both know he's done nothing in the past few weeks to deserve that. God, he hasn't spoken to her since their fight. But she silently requests his hand and Matthew doubts that he'll ever meet anyone braver.

"Hey, Des." He takes her hand in his. "My hand, it's ice. It's freezing outside; I'm sorry," he tells her but she just grips tighter.

"I'm glad you're here," Destiny says.

And that's just wrong. The fact that he gave her any reason to think that he'd be anywhere else.

He's been the biggest kind of idiot.

:::

His mom sort of reiterates that after he's kicked out hours later. Destiny, who is now seven centimeters dilated, has come to the conclusion that all men are the scum of the earth. According to Destiny, Matthew can return when he gets that through his thick head. Smartly, he gives her space. Self-preservation and all that because Destiny has been in his life for years now. Matthew knows better.

When he stalks out to the waiting area, scratching the back of his head and caught between shame and confusion, his dad and Destiny's look at him knowingly.

So yeah, he ends up sipping crappy hot chocolate in the cafeteria with his mom, watching the ball drop on the tv mounted on the wall.

It reaches the bottom and the numbers glow brightly. Matthew watches the carefree couples kiss, youthful and untied people blow into their noisemakers and sing happily. He's envious of the ease in their shoulders, their unrestrained grins.

"Happy New Year, son," Nora says against his temple. She's got an arm wrapped around him, an anchor at his side.

"It flew, mom. It totally flew away from me," Matthew chokes out, harsh and broken. "It's a new year but I still don't know what's going to happen once this baby is born. Everything is happening so fast."

"You'll figure it out, Matthew. I promise," she replies.

It frustrates Matthew, how absolutely sure she sounds. How in the world does she know?

"When? In a few hours?" Matthew snaps. "It's been more than a month and I still think that someone's pulling my leg, that none of this is true. Destiny is in a room screaming her lungs out and it's all my fault. How did it all get so messed up? I screwed up so badly."

"Matthew, you can't approach the situation that way. That kind of attitude—"

"It's twenty-four days too early, mom. Do you realize that? I mean, is that karma? Maybe if I hadn't insisted on—"

"Matthew! That's completely ridiculous. That doesn't even make—"

"being such a douchebag when I woke up, if I hadn't immediately disowned my child—"

Chasing after him on the cliff he's determined to run off of, Nora grabs his chin. Hard. He doesn't mind the pain though because she doesn't point out the unshed tears that he knows are brimming his eyes. She doesn't judge but is unbridle with her words. "No one is going to hold you to anything because you want this baby to be alright. It's okay to care, Matthew. You are the kindest boy; I expect nothing less. And it's even more than okay for you to be scared for this baby and for Destiny. However, you need to realize that there is no room for guilt because the blame lies at no one's feet. Whatever happens from here on out is not your fault. You choose what's best for you and the consequences, whatever they may be, will still not be your fault."

:::

When it's time, Matthew is one of the two people Destiny allows to be with her. Mrs. Evans, of course, is the other.

And let's just say that there are some things in life that Matthew never needed to see.

But when a baby girl swathed in pink is placed in his arms, wraps her tiny hand around his finger, strong and trusting, everything is less of a mess.

Sneak, his mom is. She knew it would come to this.

It's a crock. It's a crock that before this moment he had thought he knew what falling was.

This instantaneous and growing, growing, growing love his feels for this little person untangles the knots and cobwebs that have been crowding his head and heart. His daughter, this beautiful girl, not only warms his hands but dismisses all of the uncertainty that had left him feeling frigid and alone for the past month.

A miracle set within a miracle.

Then and there, he swears to never let her go.

:::

It takes forever for Matthew and Destiny to convince their parents to take a break. His mom and Mrs. Evans see fit to give endless instructions on how to hold the baby, the most efficient ways to change a diaper, and overwhelm both new parents with the pros and cons of breastfeeding. The men are easier to handle; Bo and Richard choose to just coo at the adorableness of their granddaughter—she is the cutest baby in the history of ever, honestly—and everyone gets that.

After a while though, Vivian ushers them out, familiarly sweet but professional.

"How are you feeling?" Matthew asks once they're alone. He whispers, mindful of the infant's sensitive ears.

"Tired," Destiny sighs, looking at Matthew and their child fondly. After a quiet moment, she adds, "really super tired."

Matthew smiles huge, beyond proud. Quickly, he says, "You did great, Des. I just—it was amazing. Very bloody and disgusting but cool." He glances at their daughter in awe, taken by her eyelids of all things, the pout of her small mouth. He grins impossibly wider. "Definitely cool."

"Thanks," Destiny says. She worries her bottom lip, hesitantly asks, "Can I hold her?"

"I'm not used to you being so reluctant to say what's on your mind." Laughing softly, Matthew carefully gets up and moves the baby into her arms. He remains at Destiny's side. At this point, he doesn't feel that comfortable being far away from them.

"I was just trying to be considerate," Destiny retorts, sticking her tongue out at him. She then goes silent, lost in soft touches to their daughter's cheeks and exposed arms. It's all so strange but Matthew can no longer imagine his life any differently.

"Destiny," he starts. "I want this."

She turns up at him in surprise, expression open in vulnerability. "What? Matthew?"

He leans in and presses a kiss to her lips, shushes her doubts—wants so badly to rebuild her faith in him. They can do this, he knows. A breath away and his forehead touching hers, he says with eyes closed, "I'm sure. I'm sure, Des. We can do this."

When he opens his eyes, he catches their daughter looking on, can't stop himself from kissing her as well, gently.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Matthew asks.

"Are you kidding me? Names suck, Matthew," Destiny proclaims. "I have three books filled with them but I didn't like any."

Matthew nods in agreement. Nothing will ever be enough for this baby they share. It's just a fact of life. But he reassuringly says, "Truth be told, you're kind of picky that way." He rushes before she can protest, "But don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah?"

Matthew hears so many more questions than that single one: Will you still be here then? Can I count on you? Do you promise not to change your mind? Stay with me? With us?

"Yeah."

The End