35 Dawn at Last

Snow knew he didn't need to worry too much about his wife. She was in the best hands in the hospital, under the watchful eye of people who could actually help her. Besides, in modern times, giving birth was hardly a dangerous endeavor. The more he thought about how he shouldn't worry, though, the more he ended up worrying. She hadn't been completely well when she went in, and he hadn't had enough opportunities to visit her. This would be their first child. Becoming nerve-wracked had to be a normal occurrence.

Being roused in the middle of the night by the hospital letting him know it was finally happening made him both excited and horribly, gut-wrenchingly nervous.

He had to get there, but waiting for a hospital shuttle to arrive from the capitol would take too long.

So, he decided to call Sazh – a man who probably wouldn't mind being woke up this early in the morning, not for something like this – and have him bring his airship. His hands shook as he called the number, and his heart pounded in his chest the longer he waited for the other man to pick up. Sazh had to be fast asleep, exhausted from his work as a pilot – day in, day out, moving supplies and troops and whatever else from point to point, getting up too early and going to bed too late, dealing with picky customers…

"Hello, Katzroy residence."

Snow breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, Sazh, it's Snow. Sorry for callin', but, uh, I was wonderin' if you could give us a ride to the hospital in Academia."

Sazh had sounded groggy when he answered the phone, but when he spoke next, that had dissipated. "I'm guessin' it's for Serah, right? Man, is it that time already?" He whistled softly. "Sure, kid, I can give you a lift. Give me about ten minutes, and I'll be right there. And, uh, don't you worry, alright? She's in good hands. She'll be fine."

"Easier said, but yeah. I'll try."

There was a rustle on the other end of the line. "You get yourselves ready, and I'll be there pronto. See you soon."

"Yeah. Thanks, Sazh. See you soon."

Sazh hung up first; Snow did the same, then went into the master bedroom and put on a fresh change of clothes, tucking the phone into a pocket. Only then did he go over to Lightning's room and, instead of knocking, bravely open the door and stick his head in. He could see her lying on her side, body twitching at the sound of the door opening, and called her name, quietly but firmly.

"Huh?" She suddenly sat up. "Snow? What the– it's one in the morning! What's going on?"

"Serah's gone into labor."

Lightning stared at him a moment. "She's–" And then she was scrambling out from under the covers in her pajama top and pants. "Are we going to see her?"

"We are. Sazh is gonna take us there." Aware his voice sounded taut, he swallowed and forced himself to sound more cheerful – although, unfortunately, it came out sounding completely faked. "Go get Caius up, will ya? I think he should be there, too. He's pretty much part of the family now."

"Technically, no."

"Sis, he doesn't have to be married to you to be family. He's your boyfriend."

She moved over to her closet and pulled out a jacket, which she proceeded to put on. "That's really a weird thought, saying I've got a boyfriend. I'll need to get used to it." She sounded distracted as she spoke. Zipping up the jacket, she walked past Snow. "I'll go get him. When's Sazh getting here?"

"Uh, probably about… five minutes."

She nodded and walked to the cubby next to the front door to put on some shoes. Snow watched her slip them on and tie them, feeling as though she did it with agonizing slowness. Only once she unlocked the door and headed to the inn did he finally sit down on the couch and try to relax. This would be their first child. Serah would finally and officially be a mother. He would finally and officially be a father. A new life was coming into the world just a brief trip in an airship away. His family. Their family. Lightning would be an aunt. The family that had so long been broken would finally be complete.

But the more he focused on the joy, the darker the fears inside him became.

How many more visions would have killed her, his subconscious whispered, and did they have anything to do with her being sick? But no, she wasn't sick, she was healthy but for a few minor abnormalities. Everything would be just fine, he knew. He simply had to be there, holding her hand as tight as he could, watching a new life be brought into the world, then holding that new life with the joyous realization that everything would be fantastic. The two families of heroes would at last be properly joined, as he saw it.

The front door opened, and Lightning came in with Caius trailing a step behind her. He looked as though he were barely awake, but he followed her to the couch, where they sat together. Instead of speaking, though, the three of them simply sat in tense silence, and Snow stared straight ahead, swallowing against a swollen throat. Soon enough, he would be there, holding her hand, urging her on, encouraging her through her discomfort. Everything would be fine. There would be a new life in his arms, and then–

"Caius, you're my friend and I trust you, or else I wouldn't even ask this, so be honest: how many more visions would've killed her?"

He heard Lightning shift her weight. Snow continued to stare straight ahead, terrified of looking at Caius, of seeing what could possibly be on his face in response to his dire question. The man would know, he knew. He half-hoped that his friend would lie to him and spare his fears and feelings. Sometimes, it was better not to know. Maybe he'd spoken too hastily. Maybe this really wasn't something he needed to ask about.

"Snow, is this something you really need to know?"

Snow gritted his teeth for a moment before saying, "Too late, I asked. Answer me, or lie to me."

Lightning again shifted her weight. Caius said, "If she had succeeded in seeing the future change just once more – if Noel had succeeded in killing me, or if Cocoon had fallen, or any number of other variables…" He hesitated. Snow already knew the answer, but he waited for it to be said all the same. "Visions wreak havoc on the body. Yeul never lived long enough for them to take a harsher toll, but the older one is, the worse their effects can be. Serah had them all at once rather than throughout her life. Therefore, for her, the temporal effects–"

"Caius, answer the question. Give me a number. Now."

Silence, then, "One."

He heard Lightning make a soft choking sound at the same instant he felt something squeeze his heart so hard that he couldn't even breathe. "One more." Something pricked his eyes. "Just one more would have killed her. Could the problems she's been having be linked–"

"Don't." Lightning clamped down on his arm, and Snow looked down at her hand without really seeing it. "Things are alright now. She's safe in the best hospital in the area." When he lifted his gaze to hers, she stared back without a single flicker of doubt in her eyes, mouth tight. "She's fine, Snow. She'll be your wife for a long time yet, and your life together will be long and happy. Don't start that."

Snow looked at her hand again, just before she removed it. Before he looked away again, he saw Caius take her left hand in his right and lace his fingers through hers. He didn't miss the way she squeezed it hard enough to make the tendons stand out under her skin.

A shudder raced through the house, making glasses rattle and vases tremble. From her new bed in the corner of the room, Snow the cat leapt to her paws and made a concerned sound, tail switching. The roar of an airship's engines pierced the hubbub before spinning down to a dull rumble somewhere out in front of the house. He was on his feet so fast that it seemed he could leave his very shadow behind, making sure his keys were in his pocket before opening the door and shooing the other two out. He locked the door and followed Caius and Lightning to a familiar little airship with the pilot's family name painted in neon yellow on the side.

As they approached, a door slid open on the side. Snow hopped up, followed by Caius, who then turned and held out a hand to Lightning. She didn't need it, of course, but she took it anyway, letting him help her up, and she didn't let go even when she sat down. The only time she released him was to strap herself in, after which she just laid her hand back in his again and laced her fingers with his.

Snow sat across from them and got the feeling he wasn't seeing the whole story.

"I told you ten minutes, and I meant ten minutes!" Sazh's strong voice rang through the seating area from a speaker in the ceiling. "Now, make sure you're all strapped in. We're goin'." There was a pause, during which the engines spun up and gee-forces tugged Snow down into the seat, and then he said, "ETA, about half an hour."

Half an hour. Snow appreciated that they were going in the first place, and that Sazh had graciously accepted this task, but half an hour suddenly felt like an impossibly long stretch of time. Without a source of amusement, the time felt as though it were passing even slower than usual. He squirmed for a while as the airship climbed, and once it reached cruising altitude, he undid his restraints and headed for the cockpit.

"Snow, leave the pilot alone," Lightning said.

Snow stopped and glared over his shoulder at her. "Right now, I'm not taking orders," he said, before going right back to what he had been doing. Between the seating area and the cockpit was short, narrow hallway he squeezed through, at the end pressing a button to open the door to the cockpit. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon he saw two human shapes: a tall one on the left, and a smaller one on the right. "Sazh? Did you bring your boy with you?"

"Oh, Snow. You know, you really shouldn't be up here. Should be sittin' down with the other two." He sighed and pointed to an empty seat, which Snow sat in. "Yeah, that's Dajh over there. Getting big and strong like his old man, isn't he? I remember the day he was born as vividly as if it'd happened yesterday."

"Were you really nervous?"

Sazh laughed. He glanced back at Snow, his eyes twinkling from the lights in the airship's control panels. "Boy, was I ever. Never been so nerve-wracked in my life. My wife was just laying there, looking like she was gonna take my head off if I got too close, but it was just because she was focusin' so hard." Snow heard him chuckle. "And once little Dajh joined the world, everything was suddenly more perfect than it'd ever been before. Man, we were all so happy, so…" Pause. "Everything was perfect."

"You never told us what happened to her."

"Yeah, well, because it's not something I wanna talk about. She's gone, and I miss her and respect her memory, but life goes on, no matter how much you grieve. That's the trick, you see? You remember the people who came before, but you also remember that life always goes on." A smile slipped into his voice. "No matter how rough it gets."

Snow looked at his hands. "She's sick. Serah is, I mean."

"Know that for sure?"

"Well…" He sighed. "No. Some test results were slightly abnormal, and there were other factors in her life, but, uh… no, I don't know for sure. I just– I gotta–" He felt his heart leap into his throat. "I'll only know she's okay when I'm sittin' next to her and I've got her hand."

Sazh nodded and said nothing for a few minutes. Snow stared out the windshield and saw nothing but the sky filled with stars and a few scattered clouds. There had to be something he could use to distract himself. Something, anything. He wracked his brain, gaze searching all around him for a topic to bring up, and at last his gaze fell to the little boy whose paradox had been resolved – a ten-year-old, intelligent and inquisitive, leaning slightly forward in his chair as he looked between the view out front and the gauges on the console.

"Hey, Dajh, how's your chocobo doing?"

Dajh turned in his seat and leaned around it with both arms wrapped around the back. "Chocolina? She's doing great, but she got way too big to keep in the house anymore. She had, like, a growth spurt, and turned into this big, fluffy, yellow giant." He grinned. "So, we sent her to a chocobo farm to take care of her. I can visit anytime I want, and they take really good care of her. She's happy."

Snow managed to smile. "Good for you, man. Still wanna be a chocobo wrangler when you grow up?"

Dajh tipped his head. "I don't think so. I'm not sure what I wanna do yet. There's a lot of cool stuff we talk about in school, and they talk about the Academy a lot. It sounds really cool. I don't know." He laid his head against the seat and sighed. "Dad says I got plenty of time, but it feels like it's taking forever."

Sazh laughed; Snow chuckled. "Wait 'til you get to be my age, son," Sazh said. "Then you're gonna wonder where all the time went!"

Snow stayed where he was for most of the rest of the ride. At last, city lights came into view, and they quickly grew brighter and more spread out until he could pick out the lights blinking atop the Academy building and the patient tower of the hospital. It was then that Sazh told him to get lost again, so he reluctantly went back with the others and buckled himself in. He glanced at Lightning, but she no longer had her hand in Caius's and seemed more interested in the wall now.

Sazh set the airship down with painstaking precision on one of the hospital's landing pads. Only after the engines switched off did he allow his three passengers to disembark, but Snow had already stood and been waiting at the door since touching down, making him the first to leap out of the airship. He didn't wait for the others, running his identification card through a security system to get through the security checkpoint, waved through by the guards, and headed straight for the elevator. Without checking to see if the others were close behind him or not, he punched the fourth-floor button and rode the car up to the obstetrics department.

He did slow enough to check in at the front desk, but then immediately headed for room 418.

At this time of night, the hospital was virtually silent, all the halls dark and all the doors closed. Night-shift nurses either sat at terminals making entries or scurried back and forth taking care of patients. One of the rooms he passed had a "labor in progress – do not disturb" sign on the door. He swept past it and hurried to 418, where he didn't even bother to knock before entering the room.

Serah lay on her back on the same bed as before, but this time she had three nurses and a doctor with her, all of whom were doing different things and murmuring to each other. They all looked up when he entered, one of the nurses opening her mouth as if to ask who he was.

He heard a familiar voice say, "Snow?"

He immediately forgot whatever worries he'd had and bounded to his wife's side, taking her hand in both of his and leaning over her. "Hey," he said, smiling. Her hand trembled slightly in his, her face a bit red, face muscles tight and slightly contorted in discomfort. "Hey, sweetie, it's me. I'm here. Sazh flew us here. Sorry I'm late. How's it going so far? Did I miss anything?"

She gritted her teeth before speaking. "It's really only just starting. I can feel her moving, Snow. I can–" Her face contorted and she seemed to strain for a moment. The doctor told her to keep at it, waited a few seconds, and then told her to relax again. She looked tired and strained. "Our daughter, she's–" She swallowed hard. "Never thought anything could hurt so much. Why'd I let you talk me… into this, again?"

Snow squeezed her hand harder. "Ask me later."

"Here," one of the nurses said, and wheeled a stool over. "Go ahead and sit down. Don't worry, if we need you to move, we'll let you know." He smiled, and Snow sat, still holding Serah's hand. The nurse moved away to look at Serah's vitals, pressing buttons on the screen to scroll to different views, his face a perfect mask of concentration as he worked. Snow felt her shiver again before she suddenly gasped and gave a sharp cry of pain.

"Serah?" He leaned closer. "Are you–"

"It's time, you'll be hearing a lot of this, can you just let it go for now!" Again, she cried out, the doctor giving words of encouragement from where he stood at the other end of the bed. "Why does it hurt? Oh, why did I think this was a good idea? Snow!" Her eyes turned fierce as she looked at him. "After this, no more kids! Don't you dare try to talk me into having another one after this!"

All Snow could think about was that he wasn't getting a son, but a daughter. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his thumb across her wrist, "no problem."

"I don't suppose Snow told you two which room she was in, huh?" Sazh grumbled, leading the small group of four through the security checkpoint and into the main hospital. There was a small lobby manned by a receptionist, who looked up as they approached. "Guess we'll just have to ask. Wish he hadn't run off like that."

"He's just excited," Lightning said.

"I admire his loyalty to her." Caius glanced around, taking in the room's muted earth tones and plush carpet and liking the choice of aesthetics. "Sazh, do you think it best if we wait outside the delivery room? We may be in the way if we intrude on the crowd that has no doubt gathered."

"Yeah, it's best. Besides, Dajh doesn't need to be traumatized." At this, Sazh smirked at his son. Moving away, he walked up to the desk and leaned on it. "Good morning," he said. "We're here for a delivery."

The receptionist nodded. "Not a problem. Just a second." The woman frowned in concentration; Caius shifted his weight and looked at Lightning. She stood off to the side a bit with her arms loosely folded, mouth working slightly, not looking at him. Her emotions were a tangled mess, and he knew better than to try and undo the web without her express permission. Still, he wondered what he could do to help.

"Here we go." The woman handed four visitor badges to Sazh. "Clip those on."

He snapped one on his lapel and one on Dajh's shirt, then handed the other two to Caius and Lightning. Once all the badges were in place, the receptionist said that obstetrics was on the fourth floor. The group moved away after that and got into the elevator, taking it up to the fourth floor.

The obstetrics floor was eerily silent, the lights turned down low, all the patient rooms closed. At each of the four corners of the floor was a nurse's station staffed by at least two nurses. Sazh took the initiative again, asking one of the nurses which room Serah was giving birth in. The nurse directed them to room 418, which was down the hall and to the left. As he headed that way, Lightning quickened her pace and began walking ahead of them.

"Lightning," Caius almost whispered.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes cold. "My sister's giving birth. I need to be there with her."

"We already agreed that we would not intrude. Her husband is there with her. You must remain outside with us until the time comes and the child is born. That may be many hours yet. There is no point to hurrying." When she didn't slow her pace, Caius scowled. "Light, please. It makes no–"

"Everything I've ever done has ultimately been for her, and I'm not abandoning her in her time of need."

Sazh groaned softly. "Alright, fine, do what you want."

"Thank you." Lightning turned away and quickened her pace even more; Caius felt a pang of frustration. He followed her path alongside Sazh and Dajh and arrived at room 418 to find the door closed. A chair stood on either side of the door; Sazh sat down on one, and Caius directed Dajh to sit on the other. The three of them began the long process of waiting as patiently as possible.

"Man, she's still stubborn," Sazh muttered. "Thought she'd grow out of that."

"Hardly." Caius reached out for her heart, trying to feel her emotional state a little better. The emotions were still all tangled, but the knots seemed a bit looser now, which brought a bit of relief to his heart. "She ultimately does what she wants, and I respect that. Her sister remains the most important thing to her."

Sazh hesitated, then said, "And she's most important to you, right?"

Caius looked at him. "I don't understand."

"You two are close, everyone knows that. The thing is, just from the way you said what you just said, I can tell you really care about her." Leaning back against the wall, he lifted an eyebrow. "You're letting her choose what's most important to her, and that's pretty awesome. Good for you."

He didn't quite feel like it was so great. Things were still so early in their relationship, even now – even after kisses and confessions of love, even after her breaking down in his arms, even after touching each other's hearts and feeling what the other felt across vast distances. He had said he would be patient, and he would be. That was the honorable and respectful thing to do.

Yet, it wasn't what he wanted. Having spent so many long centuries without any company his own age, all he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold onto her as often as he could. She deserved as much. He loved her – dearly, deeply, impossibly – but he wanted this madness to end. He wanted her to stop being unable to make up her mind about him, decide how their relationship should continue, and do it. Sometimes, she melted into his touch and stole little moments of intimacy with him, but more often, her demeanor stayed coolly professional, as though this were some business arrangement.

That was who she was. And she had confessed her fear of letting herself go, breaking down and letting him comfort her, just last night.

"She is the closest thing I have ever had to something truly worth living for." He spoke in a voice so soft and small that he almost couldn't hear it himself – or, perhaps, he didn't want to. "I came here for her, but I have stayed to be with her. The only problem is that I have no idea what our relationship actually is at this point."

Sazh nodded. "Then it's somethin' you need to discuss."

Suddenly, the sound of commotion came from the room. Sazh stayed where he was; Caius sensed a flash of fear from the woman he loved and quickly squelched his instincts, keeping himself planted. A moment later, the door opened, and Lightning came out, her skin pale and expression drawn. She faced the door, but it closed; she stumbled back, hands waving about, mysteriously directionless.

"Light." He and caught her, letting her fall against him. Her body trembled, and he felt her pulse pounding through her body. "What's going on?"

"Serah, she's– there's something–" Abruptly, she pushed him away. "There's something wrong with her. The baby's coming, but something happened. It's like… it's like there was some sort of injury, and– and there's–" Lightning shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "There's blood, and they can't–"

Sazh swallowed so hard that Caius heard it. "Uh, Dajh? Let's go over to the waiting room, okay? Probably should have been there anyway." Taking his son by the hand, he led the boy away. Caius stayed where he was, trying to think of what he could do for her, but knowing there were very few options.

"She was– she's hemorrhaging."

He winced, reaching out for her with his heart. "They will take care of her."

"You don't understand!" Lightning suddenly turned on him. "My sister is in there giving birth, bringing a new life into the world, and now she's– she's– she might be–" He sensed her panic as she turned her back to him, clutching at her jacket with both hands and gripping the fabric in her fists.

"Lightning, not so loud. You mustn't worry the other patients. Keep your voice down."

"Keep my voice down? My sister could be dying!"

"And standing here shouting about it will do no good. You must let them take care of her." Just then, a light went on over the door, colored an ominous red, and an alarm rang out at the nurse's station just down the hall. He gritted his teeth. "Let them do their work, and they will take care of her. You will only interfere by panicking."

"That's my sister! I'm supposed to take care of her!"

"No, her husband and the hospital staff are supposed to take care of her." He moved forward, reaching for her with both hands, but she backed away. "Lightning, don't be like this. You must calm down."

"Don't touch me," she snarled. "Don't even touch me."

He felt his brow knit. "Lightning."

"Don't. I mean it."

Feeling his heart clench in his chest, he turned his back to her and sat in one of the chairs. Serah had survived so much, including him attempting to kill her during her travels through time. She had come so far, and now bore a new life into the world, and yet, if she were defeated here, the resulting sadness would great. Caius had grown fond of her in his own way, though not as close to her as he was to Snow, and to see Lightning reduced to a panicking, angry mess hurt him so much that he couldn't think straight. No, this couldn't happen. Lightning had to be happy, and the only way she would be happy was if Serah stayed in her life as long as possible. Dying here wasn't an option. No, she had to live, had to be a mother and a sister and a wife, had to live a long and full life, had to see the future they had worked so hard to build come to life.

He knew the source of Lightning's anger: dread, the same dread he had felt before, and she likely wasn't actually angry at him at all.

His heart broke for her as he dropped his face in both hands in hopelessness and helplessness.

"Caius?"

He looked up at the sound of the uncharacteristically tiny voice. She gazed at him with wide eyes, but they were devoid of the panic she'd held before. The expression she gave him now was not of denial, not of anger, not of frustration, but terror. At the sight of it, he leapt out of his chair and pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her shivering body close to his, trying to envelop her as much as possible. She didn't cry. She simply clung to him, face tucked into his shoulder, and her emotions swept through him like a wave.

Serah, the woman Lightning had gone after the whole of Cocoon for. Serah, the woman who had stared into the face of certain death and chosen to continue onward anyway. Serah, the woman who had given him a brilliant fight far fiercer than Noel and gotten up every time he had knocked her down. Serah, the woman Snow had done everything for and now wanted nothing more than a family with.

She didn't cry, but there were no other words to describe what came to his eyes.

Yeul had passed away in his arms. Keeping her alive had been out of his ability to accomplish. For all he knew, though she had withdrawn from this timeline, she still existed somewhere else, living and dying in her endless cycle, always bravely facing the future, though she cried sometimes about it. Endless worlds, endless possibilities, and this had just been one of them – the one where he had gotten away.

His meddling with time had broken Serah's body to where her getting through this would be a miracle unto itself.

What a selfish, ignorant fool he was.

"Hey," his love whispered, "don't cry. This– it's not– you don't have–" Then she stopped, and wasn't the one being held anymore.

Her shoulder happened to be just the right height for him to rest his face in, wishing he weren't turning the fabric of her jacket damp and warm, but not knowing what else to do. "This is my fault," he managed to say, barely able to choke it out except by his own strength of will. "I started this. I–" His chest constricted, cutting him off; he felt her run a hand up his spine. "You should not be here, not with me."

"Don't be like this," she whispered.

"If she dies tonight, I will not forgive myself."

Her hand went to his hair and tugged on it. "Don't you start that. You didn't send her out on her journey. This is not your fault. Don't start feeling guilty. She'll–" He heard her swallow. She ran her fingers through his hair, over and over in a hypnotic rhythm. "You're such a wreck. You hold yourself together for so long, and then something happens, and you just…" She sighed. "You just break."

He didn't dare let go of her. Just being in his arms was a paradox, something so impossible he still couldn't believe it was real.

"Don't let go of me." She whispered the words against his cheek. "We never spend any time together. If you let go of me, I'll go right back to fretting, and I don't… want to do that." Her fingers continued stroking through his hair, and her other hand trailed up and down his spine. "Don't let go. Please. I need you." He felt her emotions slip out of her heart and touch his, and a flash of warmth cascaded over him.

In the end, he was still so human.

"Claire," he murmured, "never think for a second that I would ever abandon you."

Snow allowed his hands to finally stop gripping his wife's slender wrist as he sat up straight, staring at the doctor and surgeon at the other end of the bed. All of the worst bodily fluids had been cleaned up, and a nurse worked at getting the rest of them cleared away. Another nurse turned to face Snow, cradling a bundle of white cloth in both arms and gently using a corner of one blanket to clean the bundle's face. Snow's heart pounded before it began skipping beats, and at his side, the exhausted, pale-faced Serah managed a weak, triumphant smile.

"There you go," the nurse said, and handed the bundle over.

Snow panicked a moment, not sure how to hold his daughter, but somehow, he formed his arms well enough to support her head and looked down at her. The girl's face was red and slightly swollen, eyes bulging slightly and closed tight, mouth working and tiny hands writhing about inside the blanket. He didn't care. Newborns weren't the most pleasant things to look at – he knew that going into this – but to him, right then, she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"We'll need to keep mother and baby here for a little while just to be sure everything's alright," the doctor said, running the back of his hand across his brow, "but otherwise, it's a success. We'll need to take her later to run some tests and give her some shots, but you can hang onto her for a few minutes." He said something to the two nurses that were left, nodded to all of them, and left the room.

Snow stared down at the girl. It still hadn't sunk in that this was his child. "Serah, you're amazing."

His wife looked terrible, but at least she was finally stable. "Should we call her what we agreed on?" she whispered, her voice quiet, but strong.

"Yeah." Snow grinned. "Summer it is."

"Summer." Serah closed her eyes, smile widening. "After what we just went through, we still went with a name that is really kind of silly when you think about it." She chuckled, dissolving into a small coughing fit. The nurse that had given Snow the stool came and looked her over as she finished. "My whole body hurts. Think I need sleep."

Snow looked at her. "Do you want to hold her?"

Her eyes flicked open. "Why not?"

Snow handed the bundle to Serah and watched with a measure of pride as the new mother took her daughter in both arms, demonstrating a strength she hadn't had just moments ago. In silence, the two sat and gazed at their first child as the clock in the corner of the room struck four-twenty-three in the morning and the sky began to lighten.

I apologize for the wait. I was very busy and exhausted. Enjoy!