AN: Wow, okay, can I start off by saying a huge sorry for not being around for like two months? For a while, it's just been so difficult for me to sit down and write anything. And around Christmas it just got to this point where I almost dreaded having to sit down and write something. So for the people that read Don't Hold Your Breath, I do have like half a chapter done. But I'm pretty much stuck from there. I don't know, I'm just not good at writing stories any more, especially multi chapter ones because I prefer writing one shots because then once it's done it's done. I'm not giving up on DHYB though, I will try my best to update more often.
Anyway, ever since I saw the last episode I really wanted to write something like this. Because I think it's pretty obvious who this new character is, and it seems like a lot of people have figured it out or read the spoilers. If you don't want spoilers, don't continue to read. When I saw makesmecrave's (a flawless tumblr user) photofics of Clay and Sara and a baby, I've been inspired to write more.
Okay, so this is dedicated to: Kelly, Jodie and Jessica, who've been supportive with my writer's block and have been trying to help me through it. I love you guys.
This is my first thing I've wrote in months, so sorry if it's not good and tenses are always a problem for me so sorry if they're wrong too. I'd love to know what you think, so please review! Also, Happy Valentine's Day!
His hand brushed against the cotton sheets, expecting to reach the comforting, soft body of his wife, but instead feeling the cold spot where she used to be. Clay sighed, his chest aching slightly. Not again, he thought, pushing himself out of bed. He quickly slipped on some trousers over his boxers and threw on a t-shirt. He hopped through the living room towards the front door as he tried to put his shoes on quickly. Then he grabbed his keys and a jacket, got out of the house and drove the familiar route to their local park.
The sun had barely risen and the air was still crisp cold as he stepped out of the car. The park was almost silent, just a few barking dogs with their owners and school kids cutting their way through it as a shortcut to school. His eyes travelled to the familiar bench, finally spotting his wife sat, watching the empty playground longingly.
So once he reached her, he shrugged the jacket off his shoulders and put it around hers. "You gotta stop doing this, babe."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes not meeting is, just set on almost frozen swing set.
"It's gonna be our turn soon, I promise."
Sara looked at him then, her eyes cold. "Stop saying that. We've been trying for months, Clay, and I'm still not pregnant. Maybe it's just not meant to be for us."
His heart broke in half as he looked at her, so desperate and unhappy. He wanted to fix that for her, but he knew that the only thing that could fix it was a baby. Sure, they're only still young and they're only been married for over a year, graduating college only two years earlier. But that's all they've wanted, was to have a family- be a family. And it just wasn't happening for them.
Clay wrapped his arm around her shoulders, a small attempt to try and keep her all together. "Of course it is," he said. "Me and you are going to have a bunch of kids, at least five. It doesn't matter if we have to adopt, or get a surrogate or a sperm donor or... anything. We are having a family, Sara Kay Evans. I promise." He pressed a kiss on her cheek. "I love you."
She managed a weak smile. "I love you, too."
We'll be okay, he told himself. We'll be just fine.
.
.
"You've been perfect with me," she whispered, her head resting on his chest and her finger drawing invisible patterns on his stomach. "Through all of this, you've been perfect. And... if I can't get pregnant- if we can't get pregnant. Then I'm not going to let it ruin us."
He placed a small kiss on the top of her head, smiling against her golden hair. "We're perfect. Nothing's gonna ruin us."
.
.
He started buying pregnancy tests by the bulk. The cashier (who always managed to be the same person, whenever he went to the store) always looked at him strangely as he scanned the expensive (but it was worth it, she was worth it, they were worth it) pregnancy tests, but never said anything. Sara would take a test every day, just in case. But they had always been negative, and she would cry and his heart would break all over again. He tried to persuade her to stop, just limit it to once a week, or unless she actually felt like she may be pregnant. But she refused. Because if she is pregnant, then she wants to know right away, feel happy as soon as possible.
When he got home, he threw his keys in the bowl and put the bag of tests on the counter. "Sara, you in here?"
Sara walked out of the bathroom, her hands behind her back, a strange glint in her eye. She was in a better mood today, he noticed. It made his lips curve up into his familiar grin. Almost nothing made him happier than seeing her smile, especially after all this time.
She looked at the counter, her eyebrow rising. "More tests?"
"I thought you wanted some..."
"Oh, oh, I did."
"What's making you extra goofy today?" He laughed at her strange behaviour.
She shrugged, biting her bottom lip, fighting a huge smile. "Nothing. It's just- we won't be needing those tests any more, that's all."
His heart jumped and his grin widened. Is she- "What's behind your back?"
Sara moved her hands from behind her back, showing him the small white stick. "I was going to wait until you got home... but I didn't expect that it would be positive."
"It's positive?"
She nodded quickly. "I took like five more, and they were all positive. And it could be a faulty set of tests but- but,'' she paused, beaming at him with tears glistening in her eyes. "We might be pregnant, Clay."
He reached her in two quick strides, wrapping his arms around her tightly, never wanting to let her go. They'd done it, this was happening, they were going to have a baby. A little bit of Clay and a little bit of Sara. A little ClayandSara. He felt her wrap her legs around his waist, kissing his neck which was now wet with tears. "I love you so much," he whispered, his own eyes shiny.
Clay headed to the kitchen, with her still holding onto him, and sat her down on the counter. He lifted up her shirt and placed a soft kiss on her stomach, causing her silly giggles to escalate.
She grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling him up so his face was meeting hers. "Come here, you knucklehead." She pressed her lips onto his, kissing him in a way she hadn't over the past couple of months. Full of so much love and joy and happiness. She pulled away suddenly, looking at him earnestly. "Remember, they could be wrong. We still need to go to the doctors."
"You are pregnant, I know it."
.
.
"Congratulations, you're definitely pregnant." The doctor announced with warm eyes and a kind smile.
Clay squeezed her hand, grinning knowingly. "Told you so,"
.
.
She never complained. Not about the cramps, the morning sickness, her swelling feet. She commented about it, but never complained. Clay knew that she was too happy to even have been blessed with a child to moan about all of changes it brought to her body. So he always tried to help her. He would buy her all strange food for her cravings, rub her back as she threw up in the toilet, give her foot rubs. He wanted to make everything easier, because the blessing was just as much his as it was hers.
But he couldn't not laugh when she cried watching Tangled.
"You're such a goof," he said, munching on his popcorn as they sat on the couch.
She hit him in the chest. "Shut up!"
(And it hurt).
"Their baby was stolen, Clay! What if- what if our baby gets stolen?'' She gasped.
Okay, so her sudden mood swings were a little annoying, but he was trying not to complain, following her lead and all.
"I'm not going to let anything happen to our baby," he swore.
"You've got to promise,'' she stated. "I know you keep your promises."
His mind travelled back to the morning on the bench, "We are having a family, Sara Kay Evans. I promise."
"I promise a thousand times over," Clay kissed her salty lips gently. "Our baby's gonna be safe and loved and no one is ever gonna take him or her away from us."
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. "That's exactly what I needed to hear,"
.
.
"Sara, you ready?" He called from the bathroom, adjusting the tie around his neck. Tonight his agency was throwing a party to celebrate being in business for ten years. He was looking forward to it, actually. Introducing Sara to some of his work friends that she had yet to meet. And he swore that she had been glowing ever since she became pregnant, but she swore that he was just delusional.
(He wasn't).
She emerged from the bathroom, wearing a pretty dark blue dress, like the ocean. It stopped just below her knees and looked comfortable around her swollen stomach. Her hair was straight instead of her typically loose waves. She looked radiant (which wasn't a word Clay had ever even used before).
"Who knew maternity dresses could look so hot," he commented with a smirk.
Sara rolled her blue eyes, disbelievingly. "I really don't want to go tonight,"
"C'mon, you know how much I'm looking forward to this."
"I know. I mean that I really don't want to go tonight, but of course I'm going, because it's important to you.'' She smiled, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
Clay grinned. "It's only fair. I go with you to the movies to see all those lame movies you like to see."
"You know you love them," she laughed. "And they're not lame. You are."
He chuckled, feigning pain in his chest. "Oh, you wound me." He frowned, remembering her previous words. "Why don't you want to go, anyway?"
"Lately, everyone just thinks because my belly sticks out, they can touch it.'' she said, her eyebrow scrunching in annoyance and her lips forming a pout. "And I know there's gonna be people here tonight that think they're being sweet but I'm just gonna feel all..." she shuddered. "Gross."
"You pregnant women are very hard to please, you know that?"
"Oh, don't talk like you've had experience. When my sister was pregnant, she was a lot worse than me." Sara laughed suddenly and he knew why. "Remember when-"
"She threw a shoe at my head,"
Sara raised an eyebrow as she thought the giggles that obviously wanted to escape. But there was more.
"...On our first date." His cheeks darkened slightly. It wasn't the best first impression Clay had of her family when he went to pick her up for their first date. Even though she had a dorm room, she had asked him to pick her up at her house because she was spending time with her heavily pregnant sister before their date.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her stomach nudging his. She was trying to get as close as possible. "I'm just glad it didn't scare you off,"
"Nah, you couldn't scare me off."
"Even if I threw a shoe at your head?"
"Even if you threw a shoe at my head," he confirmed. "But that's not an invitation."
Sara laughed her wonderful, contagious laugh. "Noted."
.
.
"You know, we still haven't thought of a name,'' she said, sitting down on the couch and placing her feet on his lap. She leaned her sore back against the cushion, sighing contently.
"Well that's something you don't have to worry about. I've already thought of a name,"
"Oh, how silly of me. I must have forgotten that the name has to be decided by the father, not the woman carrying the baby for nine months," Sara quipped.
Clay started to rub her feet, a silent peace offering. "Just hear me out. Of course, it's our decision. But I just really love this name."
"Okay, shoot."
"Logan."
Her eyes widened. "After Wolverine?"
"Just hear me out," he repeated quickly, before she could object. "Wolverine is a superhero, and he's strong and he's a leader! That's the kind of qualities we want our kid to have, right?"
She pursed her lips, contemplating it. Sara stayed quiet for at least a minute before responding. "Okay, maybe. If it's a boy, then okay." She raised her finger warningly. "But if it's a girl, I get full choice on the name."
"Deal," he agreed quickly, leaning down to kiss her. "You're the best wife ever."
She smirked against his lips. "I know."
.
.
The same doctor, with the warm eyes and kind smile, moved the probe along her stomach. The heartbeat rang across the room, "And there's your baby,"
"I'm never gonna be able to get used to this," Clay whispered in awe, at the image of his baby on the screen. It was a lot bigger than last time, this was definitely happening. They were getting closer to her due date. Soon, their baby would be here. He kissed Sara's hand. "Look at our baby."
She nodded, a tear spilling from her left eye. She looked at the doctor, "It's okay, right? The baby, it's okay?"
"Perfectly healthy," she assured them. "Now, would you like to know the sex?" Her smile widened when the two of the nodded. She looked at her documents. "It's a boy."
"It's Logan," the two of them said in unison, before laughing jubilantly as Clay kissed her, not caring about the doctor watching them.
Clay, Sara and Logan.
The Evans'.
It was perfect.
.
.
"Clay, where are we going?" She asked, puzzled, with one hand on her stomach and another in front of her, trying not to bump into anything as Clay guided her through the house, his hands over her eyes. "Oh my God, did you finish the room?"
The room had been his special project. While Sara took charge of the baby's clothes, toys and other necessities he took charge of the room. They both took charge of everything else in between. Sometimes he would spend half the night painting, decorating and building furniture to put into the room. He had even installed a lock (which he would remove once they baby was born), so Sara couldn't peak. He wanted it to be a complete surprise for her. And now he could finally show it to her.
He tapped the door open with his foot and guided her inside. "Keep your eyes closed," he commanded gently as he switched on the light quickly before bringing his hand back to covering her eyes. "Okay. On the count of two..."
"One," she sang, and he could sense the smile in her voice.
"Two," he declared, and moved his hands from her eyes. "...Tada!"
Sara gasped quietly, her hand still resting on her stomach, as she stared, frozen, around the room. "Oh my God..."
The room was a soft shade of blue, around the same shade as her eyes (she may not notice, but he did when he went out and bought the paint) and there was painted pictures of little giraffes, bears and monkeys on the wall, painted buy some woman he'd hired when Sara was out shopping for the day. A bookshelf was on the wall, covered in picture books. There was a crib, a changing table and a set of draws, with stuffed toys sat on top of them. There was a mobile, with mini footballs, baseballs and basketballs hanging on it. And in the corner, there was a wooden rocking chair, like the one her sister had for her kid.
As he was basking in the proud feeling of completing the room, he realised that she hadn't said anything except Oh my God since they walked in. "So, what do you think?"
"It's... Perfect."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "Well, I wouldn't go that far..."
"Okay, well maybe it wouldn't hurt to have some pink in here. You know that's my favourite colour."
"We're having a boy," he said pointedly.
"Well, I don't agree with that blue is for baby boys and pink in for baby girls, like on the balloons and cards. I think our baby should like my favourite colour too."
"So if I add some pink, then it will be perfect?"
Sara nodded, grinning at her accomplishment. "Exactly."
Clay headed further into the room, towards the toys that he wanted to show her, but she grabbed his hand, stopping him.
"Clay," she said softly, looking at him sincerely. "I do love it. It's beautiful, and I'm so proud of you for doing all this. He's gonna love it almost as much as I do."
He leaned forward and kissed her for a second. "I'm glad, now you need to come and look at this teddy I got him. It's awesome."
.
.
It happened on a Tuesday.
He was at the office (too many days off sorting out the room, shopping, Lamaze classes. He was going to be fired if he didn't start spending more days at work) when he got a call from her. He was used to these calls, the ones where she complained about the kid the kept kicking his football into their yard, how she told him about whatever she was doing, watching or eating. But he looked forward to them, always.
But he found it odd how she called him at a different time that she usually did, when she knew he was in a meeting. Her due date was in two weeks, but it was possible that she could have- crap.
"Sara, what's wrong?"
All he could hear was the sound of her heavy breaths and gasps. "I'M HAVING THE BABY!" she screamed down the phone.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. Okay, okay. Breathe, just breathe. I'm on my way." He quickly shot out of his chair, ignoring the questions from his colleagues. "Sara? Sara? Hello?"
"Clay?" Another voice responded. He recognized it; it was their neighbour, Mrs. Stevens.
"Is she okay? he asked as he jogged through the parking lot towards his car. "What's going on?"
"I'm taking her to the hospital," Mrs. Stevens said, her voice calm. "You can meet us there, okay? Her contractions are getting closer and closer, it's happening quickly."
After a quick thank you, he hung up the phone and headed into the car, trying to keep his speed not above the speed-limit.
It's happening quickly, their neighbour had said.
He's going to be a father. Soon, really soon.
.
.
And three hours later (after pushing and screaming and shouting- lots of screaming and shouting) he was here.
Logan Kay Evans.
And he was perfect.
.
.
Sara stared at her little boy, just a few weeks old, peacefully sleeping in his crib. She had finally done it, had a baby, created a family. Just like Clay had promised. And she was happy, so unbelievably happy that sometimes she felt like she couldn't breathe. She never though it existed, having an amazing husband and perfect child. She thought that belonged to movies. But she was living it.
She stepped out of the bedroom and headed downstairs, placing the baby monitor on the small table outside the kitchen, so she could hear it.
As she walked into the kitchen, she smiled at the sound of the Willie Nelson song, Angel Flying too Close to the Ground softly playing. "I love this song," she commented. Her smile widened at the sight of her husband sat at the kitchen table, writing something down on those pens that he hated so much. She knew she'd have to listen to him complaining about those later.
He grinned his typical grin when he looked up to her, the same love and adoration shining in his eyes that had been there for as long as she could remember. "You look beautiful,"
"Well, thank you, handsome." she nodded towards the open space in the room. "Dance with me."
.
.
fin.