Rick could hear the commotion the moment he stepped out of the low dependency nursery.
Buzzers and alarms blaring, medical staff shouting, but the sound he could hear above all others, the sound finding his ears just as clear as the bell tolls was, Kate sobbing his daughter's nickname name over and over.
As fast as his feet could carry him, Rick ran towards the chaos.
"Kate?" He begged as he flew into the door way to the suddenly crowded room. He couldn't see his daughter through the throng of people, could barely see his fiancée, but she turned at his call. Her face told him masses, the absolute terror in her eyes, the open-mouthed look of shock, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Rick..." she sobbed, rapidly shifting her gaze between him and the centre of the mass. All of a sudden, everyone was moving, shoving Rick out of the way as the swept the perspex box, holding their tiny miracle of a daughter, away.
"Kate...?" Rick started but she was running after their child, for all intents and purposes, ignoring him entirely. "Kate?!" He started after her, realising pretty quickly where they were headed.
Soon enough, without a single word between the couple, they were stood, statuesque, watching their three week old daughter being rushed into surgery.
Kate silently slipped her hand into his, gripping his palm tightly, her entire body trembling, but Rick couldn't move.
This was it.
He could hear it echoing through the silent corridor. The sudden thud of the metaphorical 'other shoe' dropping.
Kate sat silently and alone, staring at the theatre doors, silently begging, anyone that she thought may listen, that her tiny baby would be okay.
Rick was busy calling around, telling the family to get to the hospital as soon as they could, to bring Charlie.
That they could lose Sugar, and they all needed to come see her.
He had barely said a word since he'd walked into the chaos. Only enough to ask what he would tell the family, after she'd told him.
Kate shook her head.
It didn't seem possible.
It wasn't right.
Three week old babies didn't have heart attacks.
"Excuse me, sorry, but, are you alright?"
Kate looked up slowly to face the man suddenly in front of her. His face was kind and his stance open. He had an air of comfort about him, in an odd way, he reminded Kate a lot of Roy Montgomery. He gave her a tentative smile.
"I don't mean to intrude, and if you'd rather be left alone, please say so..." He continued, already second guessing his interruption of the young woman's day, but she looked just so completely devastated that he couldn't, in good conscious, just walk past.
Kate gave him what she hoped would pass for a smile. "I don't mind." She murmured, her voice hoarse from her sustained silence. Sugar had been in surgery for two hours already. "But no, I don't think 'okay' would be the descriptor I would use." She huffed a sad laugh, prompting the man to sit beside her.
"Would you like to talk?" He asked gently. He presumed someone very dear to her was inside, not many people sit outside theatres if they don't have, but only if she wanted to tell him would he pry.
"My," Kate's voice cracked painfully, "my daughter had a heart attack."
The man gasped softly. "My dear, I'm so sorry. Is she...?" He couldn't ask, but he needed to know.
"She's alive." Kate nodded, though it was not said with relief the man noted. "She's in there now." Kate motioned to the double doors in front of her. "Has been for a while now."
"I see." He murmured compassionately. "How old?"
Kate laughed bitterly. "Three weeks. Though, given that she was ten weeks early, she shouldn't even be born yet." She shook her head, her tears returning. She had three children at home who needed her, one child still in the hospital, and one who had just had a heart attack, a heart attack, and a fiancé who was nowhere to be seen.
The man beside her sighed gently, being slightly presumptuous as he gently squeezed her hand. But Kate merely squeezed his fingers in return, desperate for any reassurance right now.
"I don't know if you're particularly religious," the man started softly, "but if you don't mind, I'd like to pray for her...?"
Kate looked up at him, shy, and broken, and oh, so tear drenched. "I..." She shook her head. "I haven't been for so long, but this..." she shrugged.
"Whatever you believe in, and whenever you believe in it, is just as valid as my beliefs, or anyone else's." He promised softly. "So long as we all try to be good to one another, I don't think any of them care what we believe." He winked, smiling softly, just enough to get a note of genuine laughter out of the terrified woman next to him.
"Would it, would it be alright if we, prayed together?" Kate asked softly.
"Of course." Her companion murmured gently. "Ready?"
Kate nodded, taking his hand more completely, before bowing her head and letting her eyes slip closed. She hadn't done this in years. But in this moment, she would do anything.
"Heavenly Spirit, we ask that you protect..." He paused.
"Oh, Hayley." Kate murmured quickly. "Her name is Hayley."
"That you protect Hayley, in her earthly journey right now. That you guide her through this horrific and trying time, and safely into her mother's arms. We ask for your guidance, and your support as we travel though this with her, and we ask for you to keep us strong enough, to be strong for her. Father, watch over us now, and watch Hayley as she fights to cling to life, and please help her to get home where she belongs. In your name we pray, Amen."
"Amen." Kate sobbed quietly, resting her forehead on the man's shoulder, and he quickly wrapped his arm gently around hers.
"She'll be okay, whatever happens, she'll be okay." He murmured softly.
Kate took a long moment before lifting her head to grace him with a smile.
"Thank you." She smiled.
"No need of thanks." He promised softly. "Just try and stay strong for your little girl. You're allowed to break down too, but you have to get back up, that little girl is worth it."
"I will." Kate nodded, determined and emboldened by their conversation. "I can never thank you enough for what you've done."
The man shook his head softly. "I told you, you don't have to thank me." He rose slowly and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I must be going, but I really do hope you hear good news soon."
Kate stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not used to all of this touching with a perfect stranger, but unable to say enough with her words alone. He held her back for a moment, letting her pull back first.
"I hope your day gets better." He murmured before setting off down the corridor, towards his destination.
Rick sat on a low wall, outside the hospital, his head in his hands.
He had called his mother, asked her to call everyone else. He couldn't do it.
He shoved his trembling hands between his knees, squeezing hard, trying to get himself together.
His daughter needed him.
The woman of his dreams was in the hospital, begging him for his support right now, and he was failing them both.
But he just couldn't do it.
He couldn't bond with a daughter he, in the deepest crevices of his soul, knew he was going to lose. He was more sure she wouldn't make it, than sure she would and he couldn't take that negativity anywhere near Kate.
She needed to be strong, to keep herself together through this, and if he wasn't going to add to her positivity, then he should just stay away. She would never forgive him for running from this, but she would forgive him even less if he dragged her down now.
He was a terrible partner, a terrible father, and god help him, a terrible man. But he honestly couldn't bear to watch it all unfold. To watch what he'd been afraid of, since she had been born silent, finally come true.
He wanted her to live, of course he did, but if he bonded with her now, and then lost her, he gagged at the thought. There was no way he would recover from that, not ever. It was safer to not bond with her. To distance himself. To take himself out the equation. He would wait for the family to get here, then take Icing and go for a walk. She shouldn't be back in the hospital, and he needed to be as far away from it as possible.
Rick felt his chest crack and sobs started to rack through him, pulling at his ribs, making his whole body hurt.
How on earth was he contemplating being anywhere but here right now?
The woman he wanted to marry was upstairs, watching over their baby, exactly where he should be. How was he leaving her to do this by herself? If he loved her, even a fraction of how much he said he did, how on earth was he anywhere but at her side right now?
If he lost his daughter, she would lose hers too. The baby she felt move inside her for seven and a half months. The baby she fell in love with, long before she could see her face. The baby who happily sat in a comfortable position, nudging her mommy only to let her know that she was there. How did he expect Kate to cope with that, alone? The woman had been through enough, with and without him. How could he possibly even think of abandoning her now?
In one movement, Rick stood and took off running.
No more. Kate needed him. Hayley needed him. Enough was enough. It was time to be a partner. To be a father.
He knew where he was supposed to be, and he wouldn't spend another minute anywhere but watching vigil, at his fiancée's side, watching over his daughter like a good father should.