Maggie and Harry settled into the routine of their new school. Friendly, happy and outgoing, Maggie made friends quickly. More shy and reserved, Harry wasn't quite as popular, but Maggie refused to leave him behind. Every day at recess, she convinced Harry to join her on the playground, where the children challenged each other on all the equipment. Harry was slowly learning to set aside his shyness.

Occasionally, Maggie noticed him, sitting by himself, watching what was going on around him. She would scurry to the equipment room and dig out a playground ball, initiating a game of kickball or dodgeball, two of Harry's favorites. The little boy would forget his melancholy and join in the game. But Maggie had her father's memory. She remembered their kindergarten days, when Harry would sit by himself and watch for his father to appear, fear and apprehension plaguing his days. She wondered why he chose to sit by himself now, when there was no threat. So one afternoon, she sat beside him in a quiet corner of the playground, and she asked, "Why do you come out here by yourself to sit all alone, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes, I jus' wanna be where it's quiet, that's all."

Although Maggie rarely sought solitude, she did understand what he meant. "Daddy does that, too. Sometimes, havin' lotsa peoples aroun' is too much for him. He likes to be alone, where it's quiet."

Harry played with the gravel on the ground in front of him. "An' sometimes...I get scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"Bein' out here with all these kids 'members me of my old father."

"He can' hurt you no more."

"No, but he had friends, like I has you. Sometimes, I think maybe his friends can come lookin' for me."

Maggie rubbed her forehead and frowned. "Do you really think they would? I mean, did you see any of them?"

"I dunno. It's hard for me to 'member them. But sometimes, when a stranger walks past the playground and I jus'...I get scared all of a sudden."

"We should tell Daddy."

Harry shook his head. "Not now, Maggie. Daddy is worried about lots of other stuff."

"What about Mommy, or Uncle Mike? Or Dr. Bennett?"

Harry shrugged. All of their adults had big people worries, but maybe Dr. Bennett could tell him how to chase away the monsters that haunted him. Maybe... "Maybe if you watch with me, we can chase away the pretend scared and I'll feel better."

"Okay. I'll watch with you."

She sat beside him in the corner of the playground until recess was over and they went into the building, where Harry didn't have to be scared any more.

Bobby rarely slept well, but with the cooler weather, his sleep became less restless. The end of September brought an unexpected cold snap, and he settled down. Lately, he'd begun to develop an intolerance for the heat of summer, so the onset of fall was a welcome relief.

He had spent the past two weekends painting Molly's room, and they had just moved her into it. For the first time since they'd gotten married, their room was empty of baby furniture and sleeping children. Alex welcomed it, but to Bobby, it meant that time was passing too quickly. His days were numbered, he knew, and that number was getting smaller all the time.

Alex rested her head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. She couldn't tell by listening that there was anything wrong with him. She stroked his side with her fingertips. "I didn't hear Mike come in tonight."

He made a soft noise before he answered, "He's not here. He dropped Sean off at Carolyn's this morning. She has him for the next week."

She missed Mike, who had planned to help paint the baby's room. She'd found herself looking forward to the project, particularly to Bobby and Mike working on it together, but when Mike bowed out for the moment, Bobby completed the job on his own. "Is anything wrong?"

"No. Her parents are in town for the week and Mike agreed she could have him, if she gave him two consecutive weeks after they leave."

"And she agreed to it?"

"Technically, but I'm betting she'll try something. She's very unpredictable lately, and I bet her parents will make things worse."

"I hope not. Mike has enough to worry about right now."

Silence settled over the room and she was just beginning to think he'd gone to sleep when he softly said, "She only has about a month left."

After a pause, she offered, "We can hope for a miracle."

He was certain he'd misheard her. "We?"

"Yes, we. I don't want her to die, Bobby. I know how hard this is for you, and I want to believe they can help her."

He shrugged. "I won't stop you, but...there's no such thing as miracles, Alex."

She wished she knew how to restore his faith, to make him believe that somehow, Denise had a chance to beat her cancer. But life had beaten him down for so long, he no longer saw the bright side of things. Even when he looked at his children, he saw what waited in the shadows. She didn't say anything more, choosing instead to leave the words behind and respond with action. It was the only way she knew to settle him so he could sleep, and there was no better way to let him know she loved him.

The insistent ring of the phone pulled Bobby from a deep sleep. He squinted at the clock as he reached for the offending device. 4:12. Looking at the darkness beyond the curtains, he answered the phone, hoping it wasn't a call out. "Goren."

"Bobby..."

The hoarseness of his friend's voice pulled him to instant wakefulness. "What is it?"

"St. Clare's," Mike said. "Maternity..."

"I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Be...careful. Nothing is going to happen immediately. I just...need someone to wait with me."

"I'm on my way."

He climbed out of the warm bed and began to dress. "What is it?" Alex asked.

"It's time," he said softly, his voice tight, apprehensive. "Uhm...Mike...Mike doesn't sound...optimistic. He sounds...worried, scared."

"What can I do?"

He pulled on his shirt and returned to the bed with his shoes. He sat down. "I can't think of anything," he answered. "I don't even know what I can do."

She gently rubbed his back as he pulled on his shoes. He sat for a moment with his eyes closed, then turned to her and gave her a lingering kiss. "I'll call you," he promised.

Then he was gone.

The one thing Bobby noticed about babies was that each maternity ward had its own energy, and each birth was a unique experience. When Maggie was born, that energy was driven by apprehension because he had never been directly involved with a birth before. Although tainted by his own private longing for a life he could not have, her arrival proved to be a turning point for him, and she had saved him from himself. Tommy's birth had been very different. There had been no apprehension. There was anticipation and joy. Tom was the only one of his children whose birth was untouched by negative emotion and that seemed to be reflected in his sweet, happy demeanor. The circumstances surrounding Molly's premature birth caused worry and anger to overwhelm the experience. Perhaps that was what fueled her fiery personality.

As soon as he walked into the maternity ward at St. Clare's, he noticed the difference. Perhaps it was his own roiling emotion over what this birth meant that made it different. He walked to the nurse's station and said, "Uhm, Logan...I'm looking for Denise Logan."

The nurse took a clipboard off a nail and scanned the names. She pointed down the hall. "Take your first left. Room number five."

"Thank you."

He stood in front of the door, bracing himself for what he would find within. Finally, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The lighting was low, except for a small alcove on the far side of the birthing suite. Denise was small and pale against the pillows. Beside the bed, Mike sat, holding her hand as worry rolled off him in waves.

Although the doctors had not abandoned all hope, they were being realistic with Mike. There was a chance, albeit a very small one, that it wasn't too late for Denise. The doctors were being cautious with every word, unwilling to offer false hope but wanting Mike to know that they were going to try. They were not giving up on her.

Bobby approached Mike, resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. Mike looked up at him. "We saw the doctor yesterday, and he was talking about delivering the baby next week," Mike said. "She woke me up at about three, said something was wrong, and here we are."

"She's in labor?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, but they don't know if she's strong enough to get through the delivery. You know, all the pushing and stuff. But they're even more reluctant to operate. Right now, she's sleeping, conserving her strength for the big show." He paused. "You're sure Alex is okay with you being here?"

"She's fine with it. Do they have a plan?"

"They're getting the chemo drugs ready. As soon as she delivers, they'll start the treatment. Hopefully, she won't be too weak to handle it."

"The prognosis? What's her prognosis...her chance to, uh, to make it?"

"Not good, but they haven't given up on her, and neither will I."

Bobby nodded. He wanted to have faith that medical science could save her, but he had struggled with faith of any kind for many years. He wasn't sure he had it in him any more to have faith. Life had let him down far too many times.

Anxiety and worry ran high in the room, fueled by both men. Denise woke from a restless sleep, thrilled to find Bobby there, and then concerned because it was a school day. Bobby gave her an affectionate smile. "Alex can handle the kids," he promised. "It'll probably be easier for her, since I'm not there to distract them. She always tells me it takes twice as long when I help."

"I think they're the ones who distract you," Mike said. He turned to Denise. "It can take him ten minutes to put Tommy's shoes on, by the time they get done playing and actually put on the little guy's shoes."

She laughed and met Bobby's eyes with a tender smile. "Your children deserve you," she said. "Please, take care of yourself."

"I'm trying," he promised. "I, uh, I stopped smoking. It's a step in the right direction."

"Keep going."

Mike watched their easy interactions with envy, garnering some sympathy for Alex's jealousy. "So...how long have you two been friends?" he asked.

Bobby did a quick mental calculation. "Just over twenty-one years. I was a rookie on my first solo patrol when she put out an officer needs assistance call."

"He came to my rescue. I was never cut out for the streets."

"No," Bobby agreed. "You were too...uh, too gentle-hearted."

"We began dating, what, two weeks later?"

"Sixteen days."

She laughed again. "Do you ever forget anything?"

"I do...well, not exactly...I mean, I get distracted and then...then I get into trouble." His expression changed. "I-I need to make a call. I'll be right back."

Mike laughed as Bobby hurried out the door, pulling his phone from his pocket to call his wife. "Alex is good for him," he said.

Denise agreed. "She is. He's still so much in love with her."

"I just wish he'd calm down. He's so uptight. It's not good for him."

She made a quiet noise and placed both hands on her belly. "Contraction?" he asked.

She nodded. "They're getting stronger and more frequent. This one was the strongest one yet."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. I feel stronger. I think that nap helped. Oh...there's another one."

He looked around the room. "First time all day there's no nurse in here. I'll be right back."

She looked concerned. "Hurry, Mike."

He rushed out the door.

"Push!"

Mike leaned in, squeezing her hand. "You can do it," he urged.

Bobby stood nearby, feeling like a third wheel, not sure what to do or where to go. Mike had relied heavily on his presence until the delivery team announced that it was time. It had been a long, exhausting labor, but Denise had only been pushing in earnest for about fifteen minutes. Mike was trying hard not to panic, and Bobby was restless and upset. Unable to offer any help, he kept out of the way, watching with silent apprehension. He didn't want her to see his unrest; she needed to focus all her energy on the task at hand. No one was sure she had the strength to see this delivery through, but the doctors had let her start the process. Now well underway, the baby was in the birth canal. There was no going back. There was a real chance they could both die if Denise's strength gave out.

Somehow, though, Denise found the strength she needed to keep pushing. Unaware of anything going on in the room around her, she responded to the urges that drove her body to deliver the baby into the world.

Mike and Bobby supported each other and Denise in silence, and Denise drew strength from them both. The medical staff were the only ones speaking in the room. "The baby is crowning."

"It's almost over."

"Just a few more good, hard pushes."

Mike urged her to push and she cried out again with the pain. Bobby struggled with his own anxiety. He had been dreading this child's birth because it meant the end of her life. He wasn't ready to lose her, and he tried hard not to resent the baby. It had been Denise's decision to try to carry the baby to term, a decision he needed to respect, but it was difficult for him. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he would feel any differently if Mike had been the baby's biological father. Despite his reservations, his fear and resentment, he watched in fascination as another new life came into the world.

"One more push like that!"

Denise cried out again as she put everything she had left into that one, final push, then she slumped against Mike. Moments later, a baby's cry broke the stillness of the room. Bobby shifted his attention from the screaming baby to Denise. She was laying very still against Mike, face pale, eyes closed. He breathed a sigh of relief when she stirred, roused by the baby's strong cries. She opened her eyes and looked at Bobby. "The baby?" she whispered.

Her voice was lost in the room, but he read her lips. "The baby seems fine," he answered. "You have a son."

Mike kissed his wife, then offered Bobby an exhausted smile, but Bobby didn't have it in him to return it. The medical staff bustled about the room, caring for the baby and getting medication ready for Denise. A nurse approached Mike with a tiny bundle. "Here is your son," she said, laying the newborn in his arms.

Mike took the baby and held him for Denise to see. She smiled weakly but her face glowed with a radiance Bobby had never seen before. She motioned for him to come closer. "Say hello to Samuel Robert."

He`did his best to hide his reaction from her, but she knew him too well. She reached up and touched his cheek. "He's going to be a brave little warrior," she promised. "He has two brave guardians to emulate. I trust you both to raise him right."

"You're not going anywhere yet," Mike said.

"I'll try to stay," she answered. "I don't want to go."

"Good, because we're not ready to let you go, right, Bobby?"

With a nod, Bobby sat lightly on the edge of the bed and held her hand. She looked from one man to the other, and then to her little son. "He's healthy?"

"He's perfect," Bobby answered. "You did great."

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and she held him as tightly as she could. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "Thank you for being here. Thank Alex for me, for letting you be here."

"Alex is better, about us, I mean," he assured her. "She...She trusts me again."

Cuddling the baby, Mike said, "I don't think it was ever a matter of trust. It was jealousy, pure and simple. You two have a very long history and for years, Denise had what she wanted. And you've never been able, or willing, to walk away from the friendship."

"Jealousy is never rational," Bobby said.

"I think our marriage helped her overcome it," Mike replied, and Bobby nodded in agreement.

A nurse came over to take the baby, but Mike was unwilling to turn him over. She smiled. "It's just for a little while, Mr. Logan. We're going to settle your wife in her room and begin her chemo treatment while we weigh and measure your son and give him a bath. Then we'll bring him to you, I promise."

"Sam," he said as he reluctantly allowed her to take the baby from him. "His name is Sam. Samuel Robert Logan."

"I'll put that in his chart."

Two more nurses shooed the two men out of the room. "We need to check her and as soon as she delivers the afterbirth, we'll bathe her and get her settled in her room. She'll be going to room 219."

With a nod, Mike leaned down and kissed his wife. "I'll see you in a little while, honey. You've had a hard day. Rest. We'll be back."

Bobby also gave her a tender kiss. "You did a beautiful job. Stay strong. I'll see you later."

She caressed his cheek. "Try not to worry. I've still got some fight left in me."

"I'll hold you to that," he teased, but his eyes were sad.

"Whatever happens, Bobby, it's meant to be."

He took little comfort from that, but gave her another kiss and left the room. Denise grabbed Mike's arm. "You've been a blessing for me," she said softly. "I don't know how I would have gotten this far without you. Now...go and be there for him. I'm doing okay, but I don't think he is."

Mike nodded. "I know he isn't. I'll see what I can get out of him. You rest and I'll be back before you know it." He kissed her again and whispered, "I love you."

She smiled. "I love you, too."

She seemed to be stronger, but he dismissed that as simply wishful thinking. If only the force of his own will could give her the strength to survive. He went after Bobby, and Denise settled back in the bed while a nurse massaged her belly. She closed her eyes and tried to relax.

He found Bobby down the hall, leaning against a wall as he talked on the phone. "She seems...okay," he was saying. "But I'm not reading too much into that."

Mike didn't need Superman's hearing to hear Alex's response, her gentle chiding, a loving admonition for him to give it time and hold onto hope. Unfortunately, hope was not tangible; it wasn't something that Bobby knew how to grasp and hold onto. "I...I don't know," he said, growing upset. "Alex..."

He choked up, handed the phone to Mike and walked away. "What was that?" Mike asked.

Alex's voice was sad. "I told him she was going to be okay."

"Nice try, sweetheart. I hope you're right."

She paused, then said, "Bobby said you have another son. Congratulations, Mike."

"Thanks."

"Have you chosen a name?"

"His name is Sam. Samuel Robert."

"That's a good name," she approved. "Is he healthy?"

"Seems to be. Hey, I'm gonna go take care of your husband. I don't know when he'll be home, but I'll keep him safe."

"Thank you, Mike."

"Tell my little bunny she has a new baby to love."

"She'll be thrilled. She's never going to get to sleep."

He laughed. "Sweet dreams, Alex."

"Give Denise a hug for me."

"Will do."

He slipped the phone into his pocket and headed off in the direction Bobby had gone.