It was finally here. The day they had waited for with bated breath, in wonder, and in fear.

Their first reaction had been overwhelming joy, but a doctor's visit had revealed alarming news: the doctors were prepared to do everything they could, but it was uncertain if Holt could survive the delivery.

The Progressive Box had begged his lover not to go through with it. It was dangerous, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing him. 'We could adopt!' he had pleaded. But Holt was unwavering; he desperately wanted to bring their child into the world, even if it ended up costing his own life. The Progressive Box eventually came to terms with the police captain's wishes. This was so incredibly important to him.

Seeing him lying there on the hospital bed, in the struggles of labor, the Progressive Box could only think that he had never been more beautiful.

"Progressive… I love you," Holt said shakily. "I just want you to know that in case I don't make it."

"Don't worry, my beautiful chocolate man," Progressive Box said while grasping his husband's thick-ass hand. "You're going to be just fine."

"Promise me, you'll take good care of her…"

The Progressive Box placed a loving hand on the police captain's cheek. "You know I will. But you're going to help me! We're going to raise our beautiful child together, okay?"

Holt smiled. "Of course…"