The last chapter. Stay tuned for an epilogue chapter and some exciting announcements, coming soon. :)

Serenity felt as though she were half-dreaming, half-awake.

First of all, she was stuck in a half-sitting, half-lying-down position, she felt numb from the waist down (which, something told her, was probably for the better) and - thought it admittedly sounded less-than-poetic - she could honestly say that she felt like she had just been hit by a truck. Her throat was dry, her brain felt more than a little bit foggy, and whatever muscles she could feel were achy and exhausted.

But as she looked up, squinting, at the three precious people standing around the bed and Seto sitting ever-vigilant on the rolling stool beside her, her heart was on fire.

"So when do you get to see her?" Mai demanded. "Soon, right?"

In the midst of her elation - and dopiness from the drugs - Serenity felt an additional burst of excitement and nerves. She opened her mouth to respond, but her voice seemed a little slow even to her own ears.

"I think Dr. Park said whenever I feel up to it, Seto can help me move into the wheelchair and we can go."

"Well you're up to it, right? You should go now!"

Serenity started to say something else, but before she could string her thoughts together, Seto had already cut in.

"Hold on," he said, placing a hand protectively over Serenity's. "The doctor's barely been gone ten minutes. The epidural's still in effect, and the blood pressure drugs are still wearing off. She probably isn't even able to stand up."

"Well that's why you'll use the wheelchair!"

Serenity would have been the first to admit that she did not have full use of her cognitive faculties - and that was putting it politely. However, even she was aware enough to realize the strangeness of who dove in and took Seto's side.

"He's right," Joey said. "Look at her, she's totally exhausted. She needs to get her strength back up before we even try to get her out of bed. I know we're all anxious, but that beautiful little baby's in good hands and she isn't going anywhere."

"What do you need?" Seto asked, turning toward Serenity and looking at her as though she were the only person in the room - or perhaps even the universe.

It may have just been the drugs, but then again, she often felt it when she wasn't under the influence of anything at all: when her eyes met Seto's, it was like he had unwittingly cast some kind of spell. The tenderness in the look he gave her made her want to regain control of her limp, stubborn muscles and crawl up to him so she could disappear into the stable warmth of his embrace.

Instead, she merely shook her head.

"I mean, I'm kind of thirsty, I guess."

"What do you want?" Joey demanded immediately. "There's a vending machine downstairs, I can get anything."

"Well don't get her Coca-Cola. Was there like, SmartWater or sports drinks or anything?" Mokuba asked. "She needs electrolytes."

Seto and Joey both gave him a bemused look.

"When did you get so smart, kid?" Joey demanded. "You some kind of expert on what happens after you have a baby?"

"It's not rocket science," Mokuba said, rolling his eyes. "She's been sweating buckets. Anybody who goes to the gym knows that after that, you need something with water and salt - like magnesium or potassium. See if there's anything like that."

"Does that sound good to you?" Seto asked.

"Actually… yeah," Serenity replied. "The sports drink maybe more than the water. Also... can you see if you can find a straw?"

"I'm on it!" Joey replied. "Mokuba, if you're so smart, you're coming with me."

"Whatever."

The two of them headed out the door, leaving only Mai, who had taken a seat at the end of the bed. However, after giving Seto and Serenity a long look, she seemed to pause.

"You two haven't had a moment alone since the baby was born, have you?" she asked.

"I guess not," Serenity replied. "I mean, the doctor left for a second or two, but it was just a second. And I was really sleepy."

"I'm going to give you two a minute to yourselves. I'll intercept the others and send them on a mission for chicken noodle soup or something."

Mai didn't give them a chance to protest - not that they probably would have regardless. She merely got to her feet and headed to the door, where she gave them a quick wink and then departed, closing it behind her.

Suddenly, the silence was almost overwhelming. At the same time, though, something about it made Serenity feel as though her thoughts were coming back to focus. Though she had the feeling her words still probably wouldn't make as much sense out loud as they did in her head, she also felt a burning need to take the opportunity to voice the thought that was going through her mind.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Seto gave her a smile, but he also raised an eyebrow.

"You just went through the hardest and scariest experience of your life - getting stuck everywhere with needles, using muscles you didn't even know you had, and pushing out a literal human being - all for our daughter, and you're the one saying 'thank you?'"

Serenity shook her head.

"I know… but what I mean is, thank you for staying here with me and sticking up for me and giving me strength. You really fought for me. The second they said you could come back in, you were here beside me, holding my hand. Even after Joey and Mai got back here, you still stayed."

"Of course," Seto replied, looking almost a little offended. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't do those things?"

"Well...I guess I had this little worry, over all the months I stayed with you," Serenity admitted. "As wonderful as things were, there was a part of me that worried that your caring about me was really all tied in with the baby. Maybe more than even you knew. Like, sometimes late at night, I would get worried that once the baby was out, you suddenly wouldn't want me anymore."

Seto's eyes widened, conveying a look of shock and anguish deeper than she'd seen him express before.

"What would make you think a thing like that? And why didn't you ask me so I could tell you how wrong it was?"

"I don't know," Serenity sighed, her voice breaking a little. "It's probably dumb. I just worried that maybe even you didn't realize that's how it was. Don't get me wrong; it's nothing that you said or did. I guess I just... haven't had a whole lot of experience seeing couples love each other unconditionally."

Seto slowly got to his feet and gave the trusty black rolling stool a gentle push out of the way. When he had the space he needed, he eased into the hospital bed beside Serenity. Though he seemed careful - almost reverent - with the way he touched her, he passed an arm behind her shoulders and placed the other one across her lap in a sort of sideways embrace.

"Serenity Wheeler, look at me," he said gently. "I mean it."

Serenity, though she still felt a little embarrassed, looked sideways and allowed her eyes to meet his.

"You are everything," Seto said, his voice unwavering. "Believe me when I say that I'm anxious to meet our daughter, because I am. I'm as excited about that as I've ever been about anything. But in a way… she still doesn't feel completely real to me. You, on the other hand, are more than real. You're one of the only things I've ever been able to hold on to. If, God forbid, something had happened to the baby, you'd still be here. And I'd only need you more."

Serenity nodded, hiding her face in his shirt.

"We'll meet her together," he continued. "And then we'll take her home together. Because believe me when I say, you're in the same boat as Mokuba now. I've fucked up my priorities before, but there's no challenge I wouldn't face or mountain I wouldn't climb to be able to keep you safe, next to me, always."

It was in the wheelchair in the elevator, heading up to the neonatal intensive care unit, that Serenity suddenly snapped back to reality, all traces of drug and exhaustion-induced fogginess forgotten.

They were on their way to meet their daughter.

Over the months the baby had grown within her - and the long quiet hours she had spent by herself - Serenity felt as though she had gotten to know her well. Their baby was a constant, sympathetic companion, quietly living and growing and content simply to exist, never judging her or worrying about her the way the others did. Asking nothing of her other than the things she would have needed to sustain herself anyway.

However, now that the baby was out, Serenity suddenly felt like she was meeting a stranger.

The little person she had come to know so well was suddenly different: a whole separate person out there in the world with a brain full of her own thoughts and opinions and a long list of new needs that Serenity would have to learn how to meet.

She wasn't afraid, exactly, but there was definitely an anxious edge to her excitement.

What if she was terrible at this? What if the baby didn't like her? What the second they handed her over, she dropped her?

Serenity knew how irrational the thoughts were, but they filled her mind all the same.

As the elevator doors opened, she glanced up, hoping to see Seto looking down at her with a reassuring expression. However, as it happened, he didn't even notice. He was staring straight ahead and biting the corner of his lip, his expression exactly as anxious and conflicted as Serenity's thoughts.

Somehow, she found the knowledge that he was experiencing the same kinds of feelings she was to be more of a comfort than any comforting half-smile he could have given her.

As they moved forward, the red vinyl letters over the door at the end of the hallway came into view:

NICU

The closer they got, the more Serenity could see through the two large windows on either side of the door and make out what was going on: first of all, the room itself was a little darker than the harshly-lit hallway. It was also bigger than she had expected, and it was filled with machines with blinking LED lights and the shadows of nurses moving around from one plastic bassinet to another.

She felt her heart start to pick up again, but about that time, one of the nurses apparently saw them coming, because she walked over to the door and opened it.

"Hello," she said pleasantly, pulling down the surgical mask she had been wearing to reveal a disarming smile. "I'm guessing you two are here for Baby Girl Kaiba?"

Serenity nodded breathlessly, and she could only imagine Seto did the same.

"Excellent, we've been expecting you. If you wouldn't mind, please go ahead and wash your hands at the sink on the other side of the windows there. I'll hold the door open so you don't have to touch anything, then I'll introduce you."

Introduce them.

It was strange how appropriate that sentiment seemed, even though she had been closer with this baby than she had with any other person.

Seto gently maneuvered Serenity so that she was directly in front of the sink, and she noticed that it was very well-placed for someone in a wheelchair to reach the soap and taps. That probably hadn't been a coincidence. She was careful to wash her hands very thoroughly and dry them with a paper towel afterward. She almost used the towel to turn off the taps, but then she remembered she should leave it running for Seto.

"Thanks," he said softly, shifting the wheelchair out of the way so that he could position himself in front of the sink. The sink was so low - and he was so tall - that he had to crouch a little to get his hands under the water, and Serenity felt the urge to laugh in spite of her anxiousness.

When both their hands were clean, they turned back to the nurse, who beckoned them into the quiet room.

Once they crossed the threshold, Serenity was overcome by a sense of peace and order. The quietness in the space was deliberate, something like a library, and the lights were lower and the room was warmer than the rest of the hospital.

A womb.

It felt like being inside of a womb.

How appropriate.

"Your little one is near the back," the nurse explained smoothly, talking over her shoulder as they walked. "She was already far enough along that she didn't need a whole incubator, just a heating bed."

"Did they move her?" Seto's voice asked from behind Serenity.

That's right, she remembered. Joey had said he and Mokuba had seen the baby through the windows facing into the hallway.

"No..." the nurse replied, glancing back with a puzzled look on her face. "All of our older and stronger ones tend to be grouped together in the back of the room. Why do you ask?"

"I think our brothers were confused about something," Serenity explained quickly. "They thought they saw her through the windows, because there was an incubator with our room number on it."

"Oh," the nurse replied. "Well, no, she's always been back here. And besides, we don't label bassinets with room numbers in here anyway. We have our own separate system. It must have been a coincidence."

Serenity leaned her head back again, and this time, Kaiba met her eyes with a smile. Again, they were thinking the same thing:

The boys hadn't seen the baby after all. They would still be the first ones.

"We're here," the nurse announced, smiling and coming to a stop a few feet away from a clear plastic crib that was so well-outfitted with tubes and lines and machines and lights that it almost looked robotic.

Serenity imagined that the nurse must have seen the look on her face - or maybe just had a great deal of experience dealing with panicky new mothers - because she merely widened her smile and shook her head.

"No reason to worry. I know it probably looks like she's on life support, but that's just how they make this equipment. Really, this warming bed is our least-invasive system, made for our babies that need the least help. Your little one is strong. Only thirty-two weeks, but her heartbeat is strong and her oxygen levels are excellent. She won't be here with me for long. You two might have a genius on your hands."

Serenity felt her heart skip a beat, and she wanted to look back over her shoulder to grin at Seto, but she also couldn't tear her eyes away from the clear bassinet - where she could just barely see the corner of a pink blanket twitch through the plexiglass.

"Can we hold her?" Serenity asked breathlessly.

"Of course you can!" the nurse replied. "Just a few things: she has a couple of lines attached to her chest, but they're just some wires hooked up to stickers that help us keep track of her vitals. They won't hurt anything, just try not to get tangled up. She's still sleeping a lot at this point, so don't be surprised if she doesn't respond to you too much. She's healthy, but she's still trying to get used to this big bright world."

The nurse leaned down toward the bassinet, then paused and gave Serenity one last smile.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes!"

"Then here she comes… your little girl!"

With the confidence of a woman who had been doing her job for many years - but the delight of one who still hadn't tired of it and probably never would - the nurse reached down and lifted the pink bundle gently out of the crib. Serenity felt herself being pushed forward a few feet closer, and as soon as she came to a stop, she felt a soft, warm weight being lowered into her arms.

And there she was.

Her daughter.

Serenity's eyes widened in awe as she gazed down at the tiny, pink face looking up from the blanket in her arms.

She was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Her eyes were closed tight below her tiny knit hat, but she had long lashes and soft, round pink cheeks. Her tiny rosy lips were pushed together into a grimace of uncertainty. Serenity hadn't realized it until that moment, but she had been worried she was going to be presented with a frighteningly small baby who had clearly been born too soon and looked like she was struggling with every breath. However, she was realizing she had worried in vain, because this was a picture-perfect newborn… just a little small.

"She's incredible," Seto breathed, leaning over Serenity's shoulder. "So, unbelievably beautiful."

"She's ours," Serenity whispered, looking up at him. "Can you believe she's really ours?"

Serenity shifted the baby gently so Seto could get a better look, but as she did, the knit cap tumbled off - revealing a head full of wispy blonde curls.

"She's blonde!" Serenity gasped, looking up at the nurse.

The latter chuckled and shrugged as she reached down for the fallen hat.

"She's yours, I promise. I watched them bring her in with all your paperwork. Genetics are strange. I've seen redheads and brunettes have blonde babies plenty of times. Do you have any blonde family members?"

Serenity looked at Seto and they both burst out laughing before either of them could help it.

"Can you live with a little girl who might have a little bit of Wheeler family resemblance?" Serenity asked.

"Yeah," Seto replied softly, gazing down at his daughter's closed eyes and drawing a finger gently down her perfect velvet cheek. "I can."