We don't have that long way to go of this story. If I've calculated it correctly, there are two chapters left after this one and an epilogue. I have most of it mapped out, I just need to write it.

Alvernogrl – my faithful reader. Thank you!

Chapter 60

A couple of days later

His body jerked abruptly as the nightmare frightened him awake. He blinked in the darkness as the dream world began to disintegrate around him. Slowly becoming increasingly awake, he forced his breathing to calm down by taking deep breaths. Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he grabbed the hand to the arm that was positioned across his waist, the palm pressed up against his naked chest. He practically jumped when he felt her lips press just below the hairline at the back of his neck.

Feeling guilty about waking her up, he turned around to face her. She was looking up at him, her eyes misted with sleep but nevertheless acutely aware of her surroundings – and him.

"Did I wake you?" he whispered.

Scooting closer to him, so that her silk-covered breasts pressed up against his damp chest, the sweat a testament to the horrors of his nightmare, she ignored his question by saying, "I'm worried about you."

He considered what to answer her and decided to act as nothing was wrong and his tone was light when he said, "That's my line."

The seriousness in her eyes as she brought her hand to trace his eyebrow thwarted his attempt at a light mood. "I can see it in your eyes."

Even though he knew that she was referring to the terror he was unable to mask, he feigned ignorance. "See what?"

She frowned, observing him as if he was this great puzzle that needed to be solved. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He let himself fall into the depths of her eyes, felt the pull – the desperate need – to talk to her, but was just as quickly reminded that she wasn't getting a lot of sleep herself. Not wanting to weigh her down with his problems as well, he nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck, breathing in the combination of the lotion lingering on her skin and the mango shampoo in her hair.

"Let's go back to sleep," he mumbled against her skin, feeling her fingers making soothing circling motions against his back. "You need your sleep."

"Maybe it will help if you talk about it?" she suggested.

Small legs, cold and blue, flashed through his mind and he pulled away from the warmth of her neck. His eyes were closed, as if that would help to force the image away.

"Max?"

Her voice was one of concern, but instead of soothing him it caused the image of her crying over the dead baby in her arms to spur to life. He loosened his arms around her and pulled away, pushing the covers off him in the process.

"Honey?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "I can't. I can't…" talk about it, he silently added.

He swallowed against the concern in her eyes and clumsily got his trembling legs out of bed. He stopped at the edge, his feet pressed against the cold surface of the wooden floor, prepared to spring into action, and his head fell heavily into his hands. He heard the whispers of the sheets as she rose in bed and his body trembled when she placed her hands on his shoulders. He moaned in anguish when she softly kissed his shoulder blade.

But she didn't say a word, compelling him to stay with her touches but still letting him take the first step if he wanted to talk.

"I need her here," he whispered after several minutes of silence. He felt her still behind him, and cursed himself for giving in. He should've gone with his initial impulse to not share his troubles with her. Even though she wanted to be there for him, she wasn't emotionally strong to shoulder both her own and his worries.

"Me too," she whispered. "Is she…are you… is she the one you're dreaming of?"

He swallowed and tried to decide if he should stop this right now, before he upset her. But he had already breached the subject. To walk away now would be more inconsiderate than to have this conversation with her.

"I dream of her every night," he answered truthfully.

Her hands slid off his back and with the absence he became aware of how cold the room was.

"Good dreams?"

Her voice was weak and not quite as hopeful as it should've been, because it had been evident that Max had been having nightmares. He turned around to face her. Her eyes were downcast, focusing on her hands in her lap, her hair shielding most of her face from his scrutiny.

"No."

She nodded slowly, biting her bottom lip.

"Baby," he said quietly, touching her chin to get her to look at him. She was on the verge of tears, his fears having awakened her own. "It's just nightmares. I can deal with it."

She looked at him for the longest time, but even under the weight of her teary eyes, he refused to look away. "I'm sorry."

He sighed in frustration, already knowing where the conversation was heading from here. "Liz, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"I…I… if you had met a normal woman, you would've had a normal child and you wouldn't have to worry about me or your child dying," she stuttered in guilty sadness. "You would've been able to get over your grief about Tess and Josh, and your nightmares would've stopped."

Irritated, Max left the bed and stood to stare at her. "Liz, I swear to God-"

"You would've been able to heal. I'm just stopping you. I'm making your life horr-"

"Liz," Max almost yelled and watched her jump with a twinge of regret. "Don't you ever dare to say that again." He crawled back on the bed, cradling her face almost forcefully between his hands. "Without you I wouldn't have a life. Don't you get it? After all we've been through? How can you for a second think that I would be better off without you? You're the only reason I'm alive right now. I would have died if you hadn't come into my life."

She was staring at him with an expression of fear and shock, her mouth hanging open and her eyes blinking slowly.

He looked down, taking a deep breath before looking up at her again, his voice softer, "Liz, with the risk of sounding cheesy, you saved me. You brought me back to the living. I don't regret a single second with you. It's the only thing that keeps me going. You," he stroke her cheek lovingly with his thumb, "and Miranda."

Speechless, she kept staring at him. He smiled softly at her. "I don't know how your previous boyfriend treated you, but I'm not him. I don't see you as a burden. I admit, I worry about you every second of the day – and night – but that's what I do. That's what you do when you love someone."

Tears slid down her cheeks at him touching one of her largest insecurities, implanted in her by Kevin. How Kevin had never wanted to look at her naked body in the revealing glow of the lamp, always wanting the lights off because he didn't want to see her scar. How Kevin would sigh and scold her for not calling him and telling him where she was, accusing her of making his life difficult because he had to unnecessary worry about her just because she couldn't pick up the phone.

"If you haven't noticed already, I'm your typical mother hen," Max said and smiled self-consciously. "I worried before the accident and I will always worry. It's what I do. Even when we have Miranda safe at home – which will happen – I will worry about her. I will worry about her when she falls and scrubs her knees. I will worry when she is learning to ride a bike. I will worry when she goes on her first date-"

Liz gave a teary laugh at this and Max momentarily stopped talking as he smiled. "I will worry if she's marrying the right guy, if he's going to treat her right. And about the nightmares…" He inhaled deeply, shuddering. "I don't know why I still have them. I want them to disappear, but I think that as long as Miranda is not here and I won't be able to get up and look at her and ascertain myself that she is alright, I will continue to have the nightmares. It's just a matter of time, Liz. I'm healing a little bit more with every day, and it's all thanks to you," he kissed her lips softly. "And that gorgeous daughter of ours."

Silence embraced them as Liz looked into his eyes, searching them, trying to mop up every precious emotion shifting through the golden irises. Next she smiled in relief and put her arms around him, pulling him close against her in a tight hug.

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Two weeks later

"You're getting a bath," Liz said softly, smiling as the large eyes looked up at her, "Yes, you are."

Miranda made a gurgling sound which was a typical sound for a baby to make, but a sound of divinity to Liz.

"Just hold her like this," Anna instructed, showing Liz how to support Miranda's head while they lowered the small body into the water.

"This is your first bath since you left mommy's tummy," Liz said, ignorant to everything going around her, everything except Miranda's face.

Anna smiled at the image they made and gently repositioned Liz's hands when Miranda gave sounds of discomfort. Liz laughed as Miranda's small legs repeatedly impacted with the water surface, causing water to splatter everywhere.

"You like that, don't you? You like the water, huh?"

"Here," Anna said taking a hold of Miranda, causing Liz to break free of the spell her daughter had placed over her. "Put your hand here instead." She directed Liz's hand to the side of Miranda's head, covering her right ear. "And the other one here." Liz put her hand where instructed under Miranda's belly and with Anna's help they turned Miranda around. She was now floating on her stomach instead, her head resting in Liz's palm. Miranda quieted down and the content smile on the baby's face made Liz grin widely.

"They usually like to be on their stomach," Anna said.

"Look at her," Liz said, a soft laugh escaping the barely contained happiness building inside of her. "She's in heaven."

Miranda was smacking her lips together, her eyes drifting close as she appeared very satisfied with her current position.

"I wish Max could have seen this," Liz murmured regretfully.

"There will be more opportunities," Anna assured.

Liz nodded. There would definitely be more opportunities. Miranda was doing really well. The nasogastric tube had been removed and Liz had, on some occasions, already been able to breastfeed Miranda. All Miranda's organs were fine and she was gaining weight. She was looking a little bit more like a baby now, healthy pink skin and rounded cheeks. According to the doctors, if Miranda kept progressing in the same manner as the last two weeks, she would be dismissed from the hospital earlier than they had thought in the beginning. Liz couldn't have been happier.

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Five days later

"Seriously, what's wrong with that cat?!"

Maria looked up from searching her purse for her car keys and looked at Liz's cat that had been living with Maria since the start of Liz's pregnancy to decrease the risk of Liz miscarrying. The cat in question was, with her claws firmly attached to the fabric of the foot stool, running around the edges of the stool, her body almost completely horizontal to the ground.

Maria couldn't help but laugh at the sight. The cat seemed incapable of fatigue and the speed it was running round and round this stool with was enough to make someone dizzy if they looked at it for too long.

Maria shrugged. "She's a cat."

"She's possessed," Michael said. He put the car magazine to the side, deciding that there was no way he would be able to concentrate on reading when the risk of being attacked by a psychotic cat was increasing by the second. While still keeping one eye on the cat, Michael looked over at his girlfriend.

"Where are you going?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "I've told you."

"So tell me again."

She sighed. Keeping track of dates had never been one of Michael's strong sides. "Liz is bringing Miranda home from the hospital."

Michael's eyes widened with interest and Maria smiled inwardly. Even though Michael would probably never admit it, he had grown quite attached to the small baby. It was very possible that Michael had visited Miranda more times than Maria.

"That's today?"

Maria nodded. "Uh-huh. I wanted to be there."

Michael stood up, ruffling a hand through his hair. "I'll come with."

Maria concealed a knowing grin and instead gave him an incredulous look. "Why?"

Michael hitched his thumb over his shoulder towards the cat that was still running around the stool. "You really think I'm gonna be here alone, with that one?"

"Alright," Maria said and grabbed her jacket. "Let's go."

As Michael rushed up to the door, Maria laughed.

Michael turned to her and looked at her as if she was the one to just have behaved uncharacteristically. Before he could ask the question, Maria's lips pressing against his stopped the movement of his lips.

She pulled back and looked up at him, barely stopping herself in time from pinching his cheek. "Ah, you are just…"

"What?" Michael asked, somewhat dazed when she didn't finish the sentence. Kissing Maria always seemed to have an immobilizing effect on him.

"You are so cute!"

Michael scrunched his nose. He really didn't like to be called cute.

"Come on, we're going to be late," Maria said and took a hold of his hand to drag him out of the apartment.

Michael, however, turned out to be the one doing the pulling and after asking for the car keys with the lame excuse that he needed to warm up the car, he rushed down the stairs leaving an amused Maria behind. Who warmed up the car in the middle of summer in New Mexico?

---------------------------------------------------

The last rays from the descending sun were stubbornly squeezing themselves through the half-open blinds, chasing each other over the carpeted floor. Some of the rays reached further than others, some victorious in tickling the feet – and even legs – of the people standing in the middle of the room. The rays entering the room from the opposite window intersected the other rays and stretched high up on the painted walls, adoring and circling around the figures that had been painted on the walls.

To a human, the figures would mean Disney – Snow White, Cinderella, various animated mice, Nemo, Simba, Belle – but to the rays they meant nothing but contrasting colors that would highlight under their touch. As a soft voice whisked through the silence, the attention was drawn to the people; the man and the woman.

"She's so beautiful."

He put his arms around her middle, fitting her head under his chin and she sighed, embracing his arms with her own. Their eyes were fixed on the small baby resting on its back in the wooden crib, her arms and legs occasionally twitching from whatever a one-month old baby would be dreaming of. Around the edges of the crib were all types of stuffed animals, having been supplied by the people that had already fallen in love with the little girl.

Max kissed Liz's temple, whispering in her ear, "Are you happy?"

He felt her head move in a nod against his cheek and he smiled.

"Yes…" she breathed wondrous, as if she couldn't quite fathom that idea.

Their daughter was finally home.

TBC...