The standard disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.
Ben was pacing the floor.
The hallway was mostly quiet outside the delivery room. Nurses filled out paperwork at their station; families appeared with older children in tow, eager to visit new loved ones. The silence was occasionally broken by a baby's cry or the ringing of a call bell.
And his child was no closer to being born. He poured himself a cup of water from a nearby water cooler, hoping that it would help calm his shattered nerves. He clutched the paper unsteadily, realizing that his hands were shaking.
"I'm surprised that you aren't chain-smoking cigarettes."
He'd called Adam – the closest thing he had to a father – to let him know what was going on, but hadn't expected his former boss to make an appearance. It was getting late, and the older man looked to be on his way home.
"Don't tempt me," Ben replied. "If they allowed smoking in here, I might."
"Thought you might need some moral support," Adam said. "Why aren't you in the delivery room with Shambala?"
"I wanted to stay with her, but she insisted on being alone for a while."
"You two are a good pair. You're both stubborn."
Ben smiled faintly. "And frankly, Adam, I can't stand to see her in this much pain. I damn near passed out when they gave her the epidural."
"The what?" Adam asked.
"It was a big needle that went in her back. For pain."
Adam cringed. "When Josh was born, I wasn't allowed anywhere near the delivery room. I think they had the right idea then."
"I'm scared." Ben blurted it out without thinking. Men weren't supposed to be afraid; if his own father were there, he'd likely be facing a barrage of insults.
"I know," Adam replied. "You're shaking like a leaf."
"It's been so long since Emily was born. And Anne did most of the work then – I was busy building a career. I haven't the slightest clue how to change diapers, for God's sake. And Shambala will be going back to Legal Aid in a little over a month."
"And that bothers you, doesn't it?"
Ben lowered his voice to a whisper, betraying at last what he'd barely allowed himself to think for nine months, let alone say. "Of course it bothers me, Adam. I don't mind looking after the baby, but I'm the one who should be providing. Not her."
"Your job is still there if you want it. Rescind your resignation."
Ben shook his head. "I caused a woman's death, Adam. I can't un-ring that bell."
"You would say that."
The call light outside the delivery room switched on, catching Ben's attention. A nurse walked in, then stepped out into the hallway a few moments later.
"Your wife needs you now, Mr. Stone."
"Go," Adam said. "Witness the miracle of life."
"How do you feel?" Ben asked.
"In a word, exhausted," Shambala replied; she'd just given birth to a seven-pound girl, another daughter for Ben. "Do you want to hold her?"
Ben nodded, not wanting to appear hesitant. He nervously took the baby in his arms; as soon as he did, she began to wail. "Shhh," he whispered, holding the little girl close. She was a beautiful child, with light skin and a shock of dark hair.
Shambala smiled. "She's already got you wrapped around her little finger."
"I've been thinking," Ben said. Long ago, they'd settled on a name; but a memory had nagged at him, changing his mind. "Perhaps Alison isn't such a good name after all."
"What is?"
"Dierdre."
Shambala's face conveyed instant understanding. "You never forgot her," she said.
Dierdre Lowenstein, the little girl who'd died so terribly at the hands of those who were supposed to love her. Ben and Shambala had forged their relationship during that case, so many years ago.
"What do you think?" Ben asked.
"I think it's fitting," Shambala replied.
Things had been rough during the past while, and traveling the road ahead wasn't going to be easy. But their Didi would have the love and stability that her namesake didn't. Ben would ensure that, no matter what it took.
finis