Chapter Thirty-Four: Breathing

"So I got a dress," Jordan announced, practically dancing through the door into Woody's and her apartment. He was sitting on their sofa watching Sunday morning cartoons, and looked up from his bowl of Cheerios with an odd expression that was somewhere between confusion and happiness when she entered.

"Um... yay?"

She held up a white garment bag that was almost taller than she was by the protruding clothes' hanger. "Nigel's gonna kill me for doing it without him... but it's perfect." Woody put his bowl down on the coffee table and switched off the television.

"Explanation, please?" Jordan sighed and rolled her eyes, kicked off her shoes and headed to the bedroom to hang up her purchase in their closet.

"I was at the hospital with Kate," Jordan started in a half-yell so he could hear her from the living room, hanging the dress carefully in the back of the closet. She turned around and just about walked into her fiancé, who was standing right behind her. "No peaking."

"Would dream of it. Scout's honour." He did the hand sign as if to validate that, and Jordan rolled her eyes again before continuing.

"She's doing better, by the way. And Erin's as good as we can hope for at this point, breathing on her own and drinking small amounts at a time." She paused, then pushed past him and walked back into the living room with him trailing slightly behind her. "Nigel flew back from England, like Kate said he would. He saw Erin then relieved me of my friend-sitting duties." She frowned at Woody's raised eyebrow. "Not that I minded sitting with her, not at all! I just honestly can't stand hospitals at the moment. Too many painful memories."

Woody nodded and picked up his bowl off the coffee table and shovelled a large spoonful of now-soggy cereal into his mouth. Jordan flopped down onto the couch beside him and resumed her story.

"I went for a walk to clear my head— I was planning to go back to the hospital right afterward, I swear, but I saw this little bridal store, and in the window was the perfect dress." She sighed happily. "The store was just opening for the morning, and you know me, I couldn't wait to have Nige there with me when I went to try it on. And it fits me like a glove! It feels as though it was made for me. He's still going to kill me for doing it without him, but I really couldn't resist. Plus Kate and he'll be busy with baby stuff now, so he might not have time to do it later, anyway."

Woody drank the milk left over from his breakfast from the side of the bowl while nodding, and a trickle of the now off-white liquid dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Jordan wiped it off with the back of her hand and Woody grinned.

"You're being rather quiet this morning. What's the deal?" He shrugged.

"Voice hurts a little." Jordan frowned, noticing for the first time since she'd gotten home how hoarse his voice sounded.

"Open up," she commanded, and he did as he was told, obediently saying 'ah'. She peered down his throat and grimaced and he breathed on her face.

"You haven't brushed your teeth yet."

"I just woke up an hour ago!"

Jordan snickered, then glared at him almost seriously, as if to warn him not to breathe on her. She took a closer look at his tonsils while he obediently breathed through his nose. "Your throat looks a little inflamed. Nothing some chicken noodle soup and a couple days without straining your vocal cords won't fix right up." Woody closed his mouth and got up to put his bowl in the sink.

"I could have told you that."

XXX

Kate slowly opened her eyes. The usual noise of the hospital drifted to her ears, and she could see Nigel sitting not half a foot away, his eyes closed. He had his hands clasped together in front of him, almost as though in prayer, and hand his chin resting on those hands. He looked exhausted.

She watched him for a moment, then attempted to shift into a more comfortable position than laying on her back. She winced— her stomach ached. She put a hand on it and felt tears spring to her eyes; not from the pain, but because she could no longer feel the little flutter of life inside her. A three-pound baby was no longer sitting on her bladder, and she felt slightly lost without that feeling.

Nigel opened his eyes, sensing her movement. "Kate." He said her name like a statement. "You're awake." She nodded slightly, noting that his voice was rough in the way it went when he was holding in his emotions. But the sadness in his eyes could not be covered up so easily.

"Where is she?" Kate managed to croak, and Nigel took a deep breath before answering. That was all the answer she needed to confirm her worst nightmare, though, and the tears that had threatened to fall did just that, running down her pale cheeks and gathering in the corners of her mouth.

"No, no!" Nigel said quickly, brushing away her tears, "She's breathing Kate. She's breathing all by herself. Shh, don't cry." A sob escaped her anyway, and Nigel continued to wipe away the onslaught of tears. "She's in the NICU."

"N-not the morgue?" She sounded like a kicked puppy, and Nigel almost started crying himself.

"Not the morgue. She's breathing Kate. Erin is breathing. She's beautiful, she looks just like you..." He kissed her forehead lovingly and leaned his own forehead against hers. "She's breathing."

"Thank God," Kate murmured, closing her eyes and enjoying the closeness. Her eyes flew open. "I want to see her." Nigel nodded. "I want to see her now." He chuckled.

"That's my girl."

Nigel got up and went to find a doctor. Not ten minutes later Kate had convinced (more like intimidated) the doctor into letting her get into a wheelchair and go up the floor to the NICU, and five minutes after that she was staring at a little bundle in a pink blanket, counting fingers and toes just like Nigel had a few hours earlier.

Nigel watched Kate's face intently as she held their little sleeping beauty. He eyes were sparkling, and her smile was gigantic. She was mumbling words of affection to Erin, who, to the best of his knowledge, was still fast asleep.

Kate looked up from her daughter's face and smiled. "She looks so much like you." Nigel laughed.

"She doesn't have my nose, thank goodness." Kate frowned.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your nose," she protested. She looked at her daughter again. "And you can't really tell yet. She could develop your family's British nose."

"Let's hope not."