Disclaimer: I cannot possibly stress how much this is not mine.

A/n: Thank you all so much for the encouraging reviews! I, like you all, really wanted to see more Scavo scenes in the finale, and though I know that this can't replace anything the show could have given us, I'm glad to know that it helps to fill in the void a little. So thank you, thank you, thank you! I really couldn't ask for more wonderful readers.

Sacrifices of a Nightingale

A story by Ryeloza

Chapter Five

The maternity ward of the hospital was as shockingly sterile and devoid of life in appearance as every other room and hallway on the floor. Tom had never appreciated that the look of the room so starkly contrasted the fact that this was the one part of the building that consistently brought new life into the world until that horrible December day that they'd lost one of their babies. Then, the cold, white walls matched his mood; the hollow clacking of shoes on the tiled floor echoed the pain in his heart; it seemed fitting that the chairs were uncomfortable and that there was no window to see that the world outside was moving on with one less soul. Walking into that room now—even for a happy purpose—brought back every lifeless memory of that dark day, and Tom had to pause before he opened the door.

Through everything that had happened over the past thirty-six hours or so, neither he nor Lynette had once mentioned the baby boy they didn't have. For Tom, the thought was a throbbing kind of pain; a dull ache that would always be present, but that he had to ignore in order to go on with his life. And contrary to whatever he and Lynette might have thought, holding his daughter now helped more than anything. She was an affirmation that love could overwhelm cruelty.

But the waiting room…

It was like the words were waiting for him all over again. We tried our best, but there was nothing we could do. We lost him… We lost him: as though he was misplaced or missing; something Tom could find again if he looked hard enough. When the words had finally sunk in, Tom had felt like his heart and soul had been crushed by grief and nothing but the thought of Lynette and his children had been able to draw him away from what could have been an eternally dark place.

His children, who waited for him now.

Tom opened the door and to his surprise, his forced smile became genuine at the sight of his kids. They'd already left for school by the time he'd gotten home this morning, but seeing them now seemed right. They'd all be together for the first time, almost the way it was supposed to be.

Penny spotted him first and ran toward him with a childish enthusiasm that teetered on extinction with every passing day. It was an instant of perfection and Tom hugged her gratefully. "Can we see Mom?" she asked eagerly, as the boys walked over to join them. "Let's go!"

Without waiting for a response, Penny began to tug on his arm, impatiently leading him to the door. Parker rolled his eyes, but Tom noticed that the indifference was marred by the own hint of impatience in his strides. He wanted to see his mother as much as Penny did.

"Okay. Okay!" he acquiesced as Penny gave a particularly ferocious yank. "We're going."

As they walked down the hall, Penny gave a running commentary of everything she had to tell her mother—Caitlyn was getting a puppy and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to play at her house any more because she was allergic; she'd gotten full marks on her spelling test from last week; she'd done her own hair that morning and what did he think Mom would say about it?. The words filled the void of the boys' odd silence—none of them had mumbled more than hello—in a cheery sort of way that lasted until they actually entered the room. Then, every bit of Penny's verbosity seemed to vanish, and she held back, still clinging to Tom's hand while the boys became all warmth and smiles.

"You okay?" asked Tom softly, bending slightly to be closer to Penny's level.

Penny nodded, but her fearful eyes were glued to her mother and her sister. She bit her lip for a second and then tugged Tom down even closer to her. "Are you sure Mom's okay?"

Tom watched as Lynette handed the baby to Porter, realizing that where he saw only her strength and courage, Penny was for the first time seeing her mother in a vulnerable position. He kissed the top of her head reassuringly and said, "She's fine. And I bet she would be even better if you went over and gave her a hug."

There was one skeptical look, but Penny stole her hand from his and walked over to the bed. "There she is!" said Lynette with the brightest of smiles; the one she reserved only for her children. Even from behind, Tom could sense Penny relax. "Come here, sweetie."

Penny climbed up onto the bed and Lynette pulled her into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth for a second before pulling back and kissing her forehead. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too." Penny stared at the baby, who Porter had passed on to a reluctant Parker, and all of her stories and questions and comments seemed to leave her. Instead she leaned back in the bed, resting her head against Lynette's shoulder.

"What's her name?" asked Preston as he began to complicatedly take the baby from Parker's arms. Tom hovered behind them, more than ready to interfere if they needed help.

Lynette glanced at Tom for a moment and he tore his eyes from the boys for a second to giver her a warm smile. "Peggy," she said. "Peggy Beth Scavo."

"Why Peggy?" asked Parker, looking relieved that the baby was out of his arms. It was funny to see him so nervous considering how rough he'd been with Penny, and Tom wondered just how long it would be before he felt comfortable around her.

"Yeah. I thought her name was Polly." Penny didn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out of her voice as she said this. Lynette gave her a sardonic look, and Tom bypassed the moment by ignoring Penny's comment.

"Well my grandmother's name was Margaret."

Penny frowned. "How do you get Peggy from Margaret?"

"It's a nickname," said Porter condescendingly, not really answering Penny's question, though she merely gave a shrug in response.

"It's a lot better than Polly." Parker nodded in emphatic agreement with his sister and Tom gave Lynette a slightly superior look that she pointedly ignored. Unaware of the silent conversation between her parents, Penny turned to Lynette. "Can I hold her now?"

"Sure. Just be careful. Make sure you support her head."

Preston gently placed Peggy in Penny's outstretched arms. His eldest daughter, though she looked somewhat awkward, still seemed more relaxed than Parker had. "She's really little," said Penny. "I didn't think she'd be so little."

Lynette ran a finger over the baby's forehead. "You were just about the same size. Porter and Preston were even smaller."

"Smaller than me?" Penny grinned as though this was a triumph and then stuck out her tongue at her older brothers. Finally, she seemed entirely relaxed in her surroundings and she eagerly turned her head toward her mother. "Mom, guess what? Today at lunch Colby Schmidt threw his mashed potatoes at the wall and got sent to the principal's office!"

Tom shook his head and smiled, letting Penny's words fall over him like a warm rain. Tomorrow Lynette and Peggy would be coming home. They'd be back to the chaos of their everyday life. Back to their kids' busy schedules and work and cleaning the house and doing laundry and sitting out on the porch on warm spring evenings. But right now the reality of that seemed far away and hazy; right now they were just together as a family for the first time.

They said that people could feel when their families were finished. Tom wasn't sure that they'd ever feel entirely whole with the shadow of loss over them, but he knew for certain that this was it. Their family was finally complete. And as Lynette caught his eye over Penny's head, he knew that she was thinking the same thing.

-Fin-