Love Letter
-endymion-

Disclaimer: School of Rock and any of its characters do not belong to me. Damn it.

Within the four walls of a reasonably small room, he sat quietly by a bedside. The steady hum of the air-conditioner was the only noise. The air was cool and it smelled strongly of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol. The walls were white, the sheets are white, the chairs were white…Everything was either white or metallic in this hospital room.

Only two things gave beauty to this room. One was the vase of fresh flowers on the bedside table. The other one is the petite woman who lay in slumber on the bed. In his opinion, the flowers pale in comparison to this delicate sleeping angel.

Such a setting could be depressing for some, as it tends to remind one of illness…deterioration… Even death. But not today. Not to him. Not when his wife lay on that bed, peacefully resting on the starched linens, with her silken raven tresses splayed on the pillows and one pale-peach hand on her highly engorged abdomen. She smiled in her sleep, her full red mouth curled upward unconsciously to express the happiness that he himself was feeling at that same moment. He stared unabashedly at her

Yes, he thinks. In a few hours, I Freddy Jones, am going to be a father.

When she told him eight months ago that she had conceived a child, he was beside himself with joy. Oh, he could hardly contain his excitement. He'd hugged everyone in sight, laughing hysterically and smiling like an utter fool. But he'd hugged his wife the longest, and tightest. At that moment, he was unable to find the right words to express his happiness and gratitude to the petite young woman who now carried his…No, their first child.

He felt the same excitement now, with just a few hours away from the expected time of delivery. He felt like his insides wanted to burst with anticipation. He wanted to talk, scream and declare to the entire world exactly how he felt right then. Alas, the only person in the room with him is his wife, and after four years of living with her, and a year of being married to her, he knew better than to wake her up. The last visitors had left half an hour ago, to give her time to rest. The doctors had suggested that he could go home too, just to freshen up, but he declined. He didn't want to leave his wife unattended even for a second.

He got on his feet, and paced the room to help pass time. Luckily, his wrought Chuck Taylors made little to no sound as he walked past the same wall several times over. After what seemed like hours, he glanced back up the plain round wall clock only to find that barely a minute had passed.

He couldn't take it anymore!

He then let his feet carry him back to the bed, where he carefully pulled out the bedside drawer. Knowing his wife, she'd have some writing materials in there somewhere. She was always taking notes on something or another, whether she needed it or not. He loved that about her. But then again, what did he not love about her?

He gave a grin of triumph when he had indeed found a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen.

Carrying the notebook and pen with him, he retreated to a secluded corner in the room and dragged a chair so he could sit down. He pulled his leg up and planted his foot on the chair so he could prop the notebook on his knee.

But what would he write about? He never really liked writing, and he wasn't particularly talented with words. What could he possibly do with this paper and pen? Doodle? Though he was pretty skilled at drawing, that wouldn't help relieve him of his thoughts.

He chewed on the pen cap. Yes, it was a disgusting habit, but it helped him think. He used to think that this habit of his had helped him pass the exams he never studied for. The perception was only made stronger when she forced him to study with her, and he managed to pass without having to chew on pen caps.

After several minutes of contemplation, he broke into a smile as he thought of what to say. Uncapping the pen, he pressed its tip on the paper and let the words flow…

Dear…well. I don't really know what to call you yet. Your mother and I have yet to decide on what to call you. We've argued for a long time on which name to choose, and still we haven't agreed on which name to give you. So for the meantime, let's call you…Baby Jones. Yeah all right, it's a pretty stupid name, but hey. Your mom's the smart one, not me, so deal with it.

I'm not really sure why I'm even writing to you, seeing as you're not even born yet but…I don't know. I'm just really excited, and I want to talk to someone but I'm alone, and your mom's asleep. Here's an important lesson for you Baby Jones: Never wake your mother up for no reason. You'll never hear the end of it. That's one of the very few reasons why we fight sometimes. Yeah, we fight, but never really seriously.

Let me tell you about your mommy and I. (I'm your daddy by the way. Hi.)

She and I used to fight all the time when we were kids. No, not because she's smart and I'm stupid. She doesn't think I'm stupid anyway. She says I just didn't try. Hmm…what did we fight about? Let's see… I guess it's because your mommy's one very serious cookie. It used to be so difficult to make her laugh. I should know, I tried many, many times. At first she just got really, really annoyed. Then, I've no idea why but I find it really amusing when she got annoyed so I'd start to laugh. For some reason, she can't stay mad at me when I'm laughing, so she'd start laughing too.

She's really pretty when she laughs you know. She's pretty all the time, but she looks her best when she's laughing. I hope you look like her, 'cause your mommy's really beautiful. She doesn't think so though, even though I tell her that all the time.

But if you look like me, that's OK too. Not to brag but…I'm hot. Yeah, this dad of yours had once broken many hearts when he chose your mom to be his girl.

I hope you got her brain too, 'cause like I said, she's really smart. But God, I hope you got my ear and talent in music. Don't tell her I told you this, but your mom? She's tone deaf. She used to manage our band, but she's tone deaf. Unbelievable right? But she's the only one who had organizational skills that good and we needed her. No matter how awesome our band is, we would've been lost without her. She's like the glue that kept us from falling apart.

Oh right, I haven't told you about our band. Okay here goes… I used to be the kick-ass (err…forget I used that word, it's bad. Bad Daddy.) drummer of an amazing rock band. We got together during fifth grade when this dude posed as our teacher, and got us in our first ever Battle of the Bands. We never even knew we could play like that, and we got into the finals. Cool huh?

That's kind of how your mom and I got together. We used to never get along because I played tricks on her and she was a bad sport (don't tell her I said that either). Then the band came along and it became our common interest. We got to know each other better because of it, and sometime during high school, I realized that I liked her a lot, and I did all those stupid things to her just to get her attention. I told her all that during our sophomore year, and we hooked up not long after that.

But that's not the end of our story yet. When we graduated, the band broke up and she went of to college. I broke up with her, because I was upset that she chose to study far away than stay with me in Manhattan. I tried to date others, but it didn't take long for me to realize that she's the only girl for me. She was everything I wasn't, and she was perfect for me in every way. She made me want to become…a better person. I'd rather risk having a long-distance relationship with her than not have her at all.

I flew all the way to Boston (yeah Harvard Law. Toldja she's smart) just to tell her I'm sorry and that I wanted her back. We got back together then, and we were inseparable since. And now, here you are.

Yeah, the band broke up, but we still get together once in a while to jam. Just this morning they came to visit us you know. Uncle Zack and Aunt Katie (your mommy and I agreed to make them your godparents) promised to come back when you're born, and so did Uncle Dewey and Uncle Ned. Uncles Gordon and Frankie said they'd be here tomorrow, and so will Aunts Marta, Michelle and Eleni. Uncle Billy and Aunts Tomika and Alicia said they wouldn't be able to visit anytime soon, but they promised to be at your first birthday.

You'll meet them soon enough, and they'll love you, I promise. I know I do, and I haven't even seen you. I have felt you kick mommy's tummy several times though. You're pretty strong for such a little dude.

Oh hey, I think your mommy's awake now. I guess I'd better wrap this up. This letter's getting so long anyway, and my hand's starting to hurt. There are so many things I wanna tell you…so many stories I want to share and so many places I want to take you to, but there'll be enough time for that. Right now, I just want to meet you. Maybe then, we'd have thought of a better name for you.

I can't wait to see you Baby Jones.

Until later then.

With love,
Daddy

His hand began to tremble when he signed the letter. Somehow, the word Daddy had made his heart jump with happiness. It's such a cheesy letter and it would undoubtedly mar his macho facade. The letter wasn't really supposed to be about his love life, or his wife, but that's all that he could think of while he wrote. Whether or not he would let his child (or anyone else for that matter) read this letter remains to be seen.

He recapped the pen just in time to hear movement coming from the bed.

"Freddy?" said a sleepy voice. He smiled and pocketed the notebook, deciding not to let anyone see it for the time being.

"Hey, Summer," he replied softly, sitting down beside her and lacing his hand in hers. "Feeling OK? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine." She smiled drowsily at him, touched by his concern. Noticing the flowers, she decided to ask him whom they were from.

"Katie and Zack brought them. They were here around half an hour ago, but you were sleeping. They said they'll be back tonight," Freddy explained. "I didn't think you'd wake up until later."

"Contractions woke me up, that's all. They're becoming more frequent."

Freddy nodded, understanding that the increase in contractions meant the time was near. They were quiet for a while, lost in their own thoughts until Freddy decided to voice out one of his.

"So I'm gonna be a daddy soon, huh?"

She shifted her neck so she could look at the handsome blond ex-drummer that was her husband, startled by the odd statement.

"Yeah," she reached up a hand and cupped his cheek, stroking his skin with her thumb. She gazed at him, silently admiring the way he looked both youthful and mature at the same time. Beneath the boyish charm a full-grown man looked back at her with loving eyes. "You'll make a great daddy."

A single tear then spilled itself onto her hand, warming her fingers.

"Freddy, you're crying," she said, slightly astounded by his sudden display of emotion. Her husband hardly ever cried. He laughed at his own silliness and brushed away the tear, tasting its salt on his lips.

"I'm just…really happy, that's all," he told her in all honesty, locking his bright blue eyes on her warm brown ones.

She tightened her hold on his hand, her own breath catching in her throat the way it always did when he looked at her like that. "Me too, Freddy. Me too."

He bent over at the waist and leaned down so he could capture her mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss, their hands still intertwined. In that moment, three hearts beat as one within the confines of the small hospital room.

A/N: All righty, that was exceedingly sappy. I don't know where it came from though. It was a boring morning, and I was trying to think of ideas for What You Least Expect, but this idea kept popping in and out of my mind. I began to write (by hand, yay me!) and I wasn't able to stop until I finished it. It is very roughly edited so forgive me for any errors.

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