I don't want to say too much about this or I'll give the plot away, but I will say this: it's not your average 'Sam and Tom have a baby' story, so please give it a go :) I'm sure many of you will be able to guess where this is heading from this, but oh well, enjoy it... Also, it's not connected in any way to Wherever You Wear Your Heart.

"She's gorgeous," Zoe congratulated Tom, who beamed. "What have you called her?"
"We haven't decided yet," he admitted.
"Is Sam asleep?"
Tom nodded, looking towards the curtains that were pulled around the bed in which Sam slept, as if he was trying to see through them. "Well I can't stay, but I brought you this." She handed him a gift bag.
"Zoe, you shouldn't have-"
"I wanted to. Give Sam my best, I'll come up again when I get the chance." She smiled and left him to his thoughts. Tom cradled his tiny daughter. She had only been born a few hours ago, a few threads of light, soft, straggly hair on her head, her cheeks still pink and shining.
"What are we going to call you?" Tom wondered. He knew the answer. Whatever Sam wanted. They had been arguing for weeks over it; Tom liked Lucy, and Sam liked Rebecca, perhaps Becky for short. However, he wasn't about to wake her up to ask her, which was a bit of a pity, as the baby was becoming restless in his arms. Although the labour had been relatively smooth, lasting eight hours, Sam had been rightfully exhausted. As soon as she had had a chance to hold the baby, and given her her first feed, which had also been easy - easier than people had said it would be - Tom had let her sleep, diverting the steady string of people hoping to see her.

But the truth was, Sam wasn't asleep. She was lying on her side in the bed, awake and dreading seeing Tom and the baby again. Her baby. She was beautiful, healthy, peaceful. The only time she had heard her cry was when she had first arrived, but now it was astonishingly quiet on the maternity ward, the only sounds being the low murmurings of the nurses, midwives, and her colleagues. Just then a wail tore through the calm. A tide of fear surged up Sam. She sighed inwardly. She didn't know what was wrong with her; this was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. But right now she didn't want to see Tom. She didn't want to feed her baby. And she didn't want to play happy families.

The curtain opened gently. Tom appeared behind it.
"I think she's hungry," he said apologetically. "Sorry to wake you. Zoe says hello."
She swallowed and forced a smile. "I was already awake." She held out her arms for her baby, and Tom placed her in them. She had been shown how to feed her when she was only a few minutes old, and already it was simple.
Tom sat down on the end of the bed. "She needs a name," he said.
"Mmm," Sam agreed, halfheartedly.
"How about Rebecca, Rebecca Lucy, you like that, right? Or at least you did last week."
"No, yeah, that's nice."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" she snapped. Tom put it down to fatigue - her eyes were bloodshot from exertion, and there were dark bruise-like patches under them - but before he could respond, the baby, Rebecca, she reminded herself, coughed. Sam burped her as the midwife had demonstrated. She tried to hold back a yawn.
"Do you want us to go?" Tom asked.
"No it's fine, you should be here. What would you do anyway?"
"We'll go for a walk or something. I think you need to rest," he said, bending down to kiss her and taking Rebecca from her. As they left, Sam heard him muttering to Rebecca. She almost smiled. He was going to be a great father, she just wished she could be a better mother. She closed her eyes in relief. It was a struggle to open them again. That must be the problem: she was just tired. She lay back down, letting the sleep she longed for drag her under.

She was still a bit sore, but, feeling better after the sleep, Sam managed to swing her legs round so that her feet were on the floor. She needed to get up, to move around; she was beginning to get a sense of unease that she couldn't quite place. Just as she made to get up, the curtain opened again, and a nurse entered, carrying a tray.
"Bad timing, I'm afraid, it's lunch time," she said briskly. Sam checked the time. It was indeed nearly one o'clock. "Where's your partner? And your baby? I haven't seen them up here for a while." She handed a tray of food to Sam.
She was right. Where were Tom and Rebecca? She hadn't meant to lash out earlier - it had just escaped from her mouth. "They've gone for a walk," Sam replied vaguely.
"Do you want me to send someone to find them?"
Sam was about to attack, before she remembered that the nurse was just trying to help. "No, they'll be back soon, I think Tom just wanted to give me some space."
"Alright then," she smiled. "Is everything going alright with baby? Have you picked a name?"
"Er, yeah, I think everything's fine. We've called her Rebecca."
The nurse grinned. "Aw, that's lovely. My daughter's middle name is Rebecca."
Sam smiled politely, feigning interest, but she really wasn't in the mood for this conversation. "Are you alright for pain and everything?" the nurse continued.
Sam nodded.
"Okay then, I'll be back to check on you again soon." She hurried off.

Sam looked at the food on the tray on her lap. She picked up a fork, then placed it back down again. Just thinking about eating was making her feel sick, which was odd, as she hadn't eaten for a while now. She settled for sipping the glass of water slowly, and was just about to push the food around the plate to make it look like she had eaten something, when Tom returned, Rebecca fast asleep in his arms, still wrapped in white.
"Hey," she said, apologising for her earlier mood with her eyes as she couldn't with her mouth.
"Did I miss lunch?" he joked.
"You can have mine, I'm not hungry."
He looked concerned, but didn't question her, expecting another outburst. Sam placed the tray on the bedside table. She was going to have to start making an effort. She offered her arms for Rebecca, unable to ask aloud. Tom understood. He placed her in them, as he had before. She didn't stir.
"She's been a little angel," Tom told her.
"What have you been doing?" Sam asked.
"We wandered around for a bit, then I met Fletch in the cafe. He also says congratulations. He said he'd have sent you flowers, but he didn't think you would appreciate them, so he gave us these." Tom lifted the wrap around Rebecca's feet to reveal a tiny blue shoe on each foot. Sam laughed. "And then I changed my first nappy," Tom said, almost excitedly.
"Only you." The corners of her mouth lifted, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"And I spoke to the midwife, who said we can go as soon as you're ready, but you need to go to the toilet, and they want to check your temperature, blood pressure and pulse. So do you want to stay here longer? Or do you want to go home?"
"Let's get out of here," Sam said, relieved, and she gave Rebecca back to Tom and got up out of bed for the first time in what seemed, to her, like ages.

While Sam was getting changed and being checked over by the midwife, Tom was getting the car seat that they had hurriedly bought only last week. As she came back, he was strapping Rebecca into it. She was now wearing a white babygrow with Fletch's blue shoes, and Sam thought she was already the most beautiful girl in the world. Tom picked up the baby seat and took hold of Sam's hand and squeezed it as they left the hospital.
"Did you get anymore sleep?" he asked. Sam nodded. They were quiet in the car, Sam sitting in the back with Rebecca's carrier buckled in on the next seat. She was awake now, gurgling occasionally. Sam tickled under chin, smiling.
"Our lives are going to be different forever now," Sam remarked.
"In a good way, I hope!" Tom chuckled. He hadn't stopped beaming since they had left the hospital. Sam didn't answer, but she looked down, hoping he wouldn't see her hesitant expression. She so wanted to enjoy this, but it was going to take a while for her to adjust and take it in.

Hopefully you enjoyed it, please let me know whether you want more; I do have a whole story planned.