Amber sat on the floor in front of Walter, her knees bent and ankles crossed in an attempt to sit criss cross like he was. She was staring at the bright yellow rubber ducks that he had sitting on the floor in between them. "Duck."

"Yes. Good job. Ducks."

"Would be more encouraging if she didn't call every bird a duck," he said glancing over to where Paige sat, at the little table by their living room window while she worked.

Paige smirked. "Ducks! Ducks, Amber! Quack quack!"

Amber giggled, flapping her arms. "Quack quack quack!"

"That's right. Smart girl." Paige went back to her laptop. Amber grinned at Walter.

"Any luck over there, Mom?" Walter asked.

"Allie sent an e-mail with attached photos of the fragments Cabe and his contact found. It does appear to be a drone that hit us. But they won't know more, or from where, until they can find the rest of it."

"Hmmm." Walter glanced down at his daughter, who was pressing her finger down on one of the ducks. "Do you know how many ducks there are?" Walter asked. There were three, sitting next to each other facing the toddler.

"Ducks," Amber said, pointing.

"Yes," Walter said. "Yes, they're ducks."

"That's right, Amber," Paige called, "you keep Daddy in line. Make sure he keeps his ducks in a row."

"I didn't know I married Uncle Toby," Walter said to Amber.

"Uncle daddy."

"That's not how it works," he said. "This isn't Arkansas, Amber."

"Oh boy," Paige said, "now I'm the one that married Uncle Toby."

"This is getting weird, so I'm going to proceed with playing with my daughter," Walter said, "who I did not have with Toby Curtis."

Paige chuckled. "No, you most certainly did not."

"Okay, Amber," Walter said. "We're playing a game called How Many. Do you know what that is? It means I'm going to ask you how many ducks are here. Okay?"

"Okay."

There were four yellow ducks between them. Walter pointed. "One? Or more?"

"More."

"Good." Walter smiled. He added two more rubber ducks. "One? Or more than one?"

"More."

"Good girl." He held out his hand. Amber smacked it. She had become a fan of high fives. "Now." He took the two ducks back. "How many?"

"How many," she repeated.

"One or more than one, Ambie?"

"One."

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"One, or more than one?"

"More."

Walter narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you sure?"

"No."

He sighed. "Amber, can we focus?"

"Walter," Paige said from her desk, "she doesn't have the attention span of an adult."

"It's just been a couple minutes. You know that toddlers can focus for a couple minutes. That's why time outs are the same number of minutes as you are years old."

"Yes, but…"

"You're not the only one who knows how to parent our child," he said shortly.

"I didn't say that."

"I didn't say you said that, I'm only saying that…"

"No," Amber said, her face crumpling. "Mommy Daddy no."

"We're not fighting, sweetheart," he said reaching for her. Amber flinched, leaning away. Walter looked at her in alarm. "Ambie, Mommy and I aren't yelling. Promise."

"Pomise?"

"Yeah, promise. Come here, lovie."

Amber crawled over to him and he hugged her close to him. "It's okay, it's okay."

Paige got up from her work space, crossing the room and dropping to her knees next to Walter. "Come on, group hug."


Tilly was very still.

It made sense. She didn't have the muscle development that a full – term baby would. But just because something made sense didn't make it comforting. Florence felt sick looking into the incubator.

"Hi, Tilly," Sylvester said, his voice quiet. "I'm glad your ears are working. Probably. Maybe. Ahem. But you're old enough that it's possible you hear us, anyway. It's Dad and Mommy."

"Not Daddy and Mommy?"

"As glad as I am that Happy has banned Toby from referring to himself that way in a different context, I still kinda…" he shuddered. "What society has done to that word is a travesty."

Florence gave him a small smile.

"Tilly girl, I'm sure you're used to our banter." Sylvester gave a deep sigh. "We wish we could spend more time with you. But you need to grow and get strong and the nurses…"

"The nurses are the best at doing that," Florence finished.

"Yeah." When Sylvester glanced at her, Florence smiled again. Puttig his hands together and rubbing them slowly, Sylvester gave another sigh. "I'm terrible at talking to her."

"No you're not. You did a great job talking to me."

"I updated you on everyone's lives. She doesn't know any of them. She doesn't know anything. I could read from the phone book and she wouldn't know the difference."

"So maybe we should just talk to each other in front of her. Like we would if I was still carrying her." The last two words came out differently as Florence fought the urge to cry. As is, the nurses were best equipped to care for Tilly. But she, Florence Tipton – Dodd, was the one who was supposed to be doing it. Tilly wasn't supposed to be born yet. All these milestones they were sitting around waiting for while she lay nearly motionless in the incubator were supposed to happen within the safety of Florence's body.

"I like that idea," Sylvester said. "So yesterday Happy was reading me an article about…"

"Do you think she really can hear us?" Florence asked. "Or maybe she's deaf. Sly, what if she's deaf?"

"Then she's deaf, and we learn how we can communicate with her, and we proceed. Deaf isn't a bad thing."

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm saying if she can't hear us, she has no idea we're here. We can't hold her. We can't touch her. Not yet, anyway. She got put into this big scary world early and now she doesn't know her parents are right here. She might be scared. I know they can't really distinguish fear until they're older but they can be stressed and overwhelmed and…"

"Stressed and overwhelmed," Sylvester said. "Just like her mom."

"Like you aren't both of those things, too.

"I am. You know I am."

"Sorry. It's just so much. So much to think about."

"I know. I just think we have to focus on one thing at a time. Her making it day by day, week by week. Any health problems she has, we will do our best to make sure she has the best quality of life possible."

"But that's the thing, Sly. We can't just worry about one thing at a time. We have to plan for the future. What if she has lifelong health issues and we aren't prepared to help her? What if she…" Florence's eyes widened. "What if she's not able to survive without assistance? What if needs constant care and something happens to us and we aren't there for her and then she ends up in a situation like that woman from – "

"Florence," Sylvester said. "Trust me, my mind is going at light speed. I guarantee anything you're thinking about, it's crossed my mind about fifty times. Okay? We will get through it. But we have to take this one day at a time. If we let ourselves get lost in everything, we'll go out of our minds."

"But life doesn't hit us one day at a time," she said, wringing her hands. "It's not like the brain damage will be like 'oh hey, we were going to get really bad but since you're currently dealing with debt and vision problems we'll just hold off until you're better equipped to handle it' or 'oh we're Tilly's respiratory system and we were going to have a severe asthma attack but since her mother just died in a nuclear reactor we'll just be healthy instead.' Things hit people all at once. And we have to be ready for that."

Sylvester put his hands on her upper arms and kissed her forehead. "I know. Trust me. My brain is doing everything you're doing, but silently."

He wasn't making a joke about how women didn't know how to shut up, but Florence bristled at the word choice anyway. "Okay. I'll just be quiet."

"No, I didn't mean that. I just mean we're thinking the same things."

"She can't hear us."

"We don't know that."

"No, I mean she can't hear us like this. We sound tense and upset. That will make her worse." Florence looked at the monitors. "Look. Her heart rate has changed. And her blood pressure, is that thing measuring her blood pressure?"

"Those changes are barely noticeable."

"But they changed. Nurse. Nurse!" Florence said, startled at how shrill her voice sounded. "Nurse, something's wrong!"

Two nurses, a man and a woman, rushed over immediately. "Okay, Tilly," the man said, "let's just get a look at you."

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Florence said, her voice quieter but still louder than she'd like. Tears were springing to her eyes. Her baby was so tiny. So red. So still.

"Slight variation," the woman said quietly.

Florence couldn't see Tilly, or what they were doing. She saw the man turn toward them, looking up at Sylvester, and she realized her husband was standing behind her with his hands on her arms. He was speaking to Sylvester, and then she felt her body being turned and headed out of the room.

"What's the matter with her? She said, whirling to face him as soon as the door was closed. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing, you were just…"

"Oh God. I was making a scene."

"No, you were just upset. It's okay."

There were tears in his eyes, too, but Florence saw the reassurance there that she was looking for. "Then why…"

"Stuff fluctuates. You know that."

"Right." She nodded. "Right." She dropped onto a bench that was sitting in the hallway, putting her head in her hands. "It's not like me to react like this. I can usually keep it together."

Sylvester sat next to her, opening his mouth to speak, but continued before he could do so. "Thank you. You help." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I love you, Sly. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he said, sliding an arm around her.

"Kiss me," she said quietly, before leaning in and kissing him. He shifted his weight, allowing him to kiss her back properly, and she curled her fingers around his shirt to keep him close. Kissing him was comforting. This is Sly. This is your husband. Your other half. You're his wife. His Everything – To – Me.

"I love you," she whispered again in between kisses, her eyes hot from the tears. When they broke apart again, she dropped her head, her forehead on his shoulder. She started to cry.

She was crying because she was sad, scared, and overwhelmed. When the nurse came to tell them that yes, Tilly was fine, she kept on crying.

For the same three reasons.