AN: Thanks to TheOofOof for giving this a read through. A quick one shot that came to me last night and took an hour to write. Not really tied to anything and not a huge plot, just some fluff.
Standing alone in the wide corridor, Harry arches his back. He feels the muscles crack as his shoulders slump, the lines of exhaustion haunting his face as he smiles at the two babies kicking their legs in the secure nursery.
"You can hold them," a nurse says quietly.
Turning, he looks at the short woman, shaking his head softly. "Their mum is asleep, I don't want to wake her by bringing them in."
The woman watches, a smile filling her own face as the exhausted man is back to smiling at the two, small babies in the other room before he's evening finished speaking to her. Many of nights; and days; she's stood here watching father's stare at their new children, but never has she seen one so enthralled with them and yet so concerned with their mother as well.
"The room next to your wife's is empty, the couple leaving a few hours earlier. I can bring them in there if you want, just let me know."
Harry nods, watching the twins a moment longer before calling her back.
"They'll need to be fed in a few minutes," the nurse says, carefully lying the infant boy next to his sister on the wide hospital bed. Raising the side, she smiles at the rumpled man, leaving the room quietly as he stares down at his two children.
"Hello," he says, reaching out to adjust the blankets they're swaddled in, smiling as the little girl reaches out to wrap her tiny fingers around his larger one. "I'm your dad."
They're quiet lying there, wrapped in green and purple blankets, a blue and pink hat respectfully on their heads, their blue eyes wide as they stare knowingly at him.
"You've got my finger," he says to the girl, his smile growing as he lifts his other hand to his son, the tiny hand gripping a finger. Carefully, he uses his thumbs to brush the tops of their hands, his heart swelling as he watches his youngest two.
"I wasn't a good father to your brother and sister. In fact, it's safe to say I wasn't really a father to them at all. That would be Robin, their step-father. Being a spy was more important to me than being a good husband and father. I hurt them. Badly. But I promise, I'm not that man anymore. Your mum, she changed me. Made me a better man. Made me want to be a better man so she'd love me."
"You were always that man," Ruth says quietly from the doorway. "You just needed someone to believe in you fully and completely to realize it."
Still holding the fingers of their children, he turns his head, smiling as he sees her crossing to him slowly, dressing gown hanging open over a thin hospital gown. She stops next to him, her head leaning against his lower shoulder as she grips his arm.
"You shouldn't be up," he says quietly, leaning his head sideways, he rests it against hers.
"It's almost time for their feeding," she says, grimacing slightly at the uncomfortable weight in her breasts. "You should bring them to our room."
"I will," he says, looking down at their children. "Just as soon as they let me go."