Sorry about the delays in updates. I've been and still am without wifi in my new house. I had to type this whole thing out in my phone. So, I apologize in advance for any errors there are in the story. Enjoy!

"My love."

The blankets, the one's he cherished so dearly, who had so easily and willingly wrapped him in their warmth, were being pulled away from him.

"A few more minutes," he whispered, blindly reaching for his stolen comfort. "Just a few..."

"Ichabod, it's time."

A heavy grunt escaped him as he flipped onto his back and opened his eyes, the dimly lit room taking a moment to register as foreign. The unfamiliar blue gave him pause as the texture of the wooden walls he was so accustomed to in the cabin were absent.

"Ichabod." Katrina pushed at his shoulder. "The baby's coming with or without your rising."

The urgency in his wife's voice sorted out his attention.

"The baby..." he groggily whispered as his blurry vision settled on Katrina sitting up beside him, her face expectant. "The baby!"

Eyes popping open, the blankets he'd once cherished were thrown away as he rolled from the bed and began fumbling with his trousers. A new urgency was about him, one that had his mind working overtime with his attempts to clothe himself; something his frantic movements were doing nothing to help.

"We-we have to go, then." Hurrying around the bed, he struggled with the strings to tighten his trousers. "Are you alright?"

"My love, you needn't rush," she whispered as he took her hand to assist her in standing. "It's simply the beginning of what I can assure you is going to be a very long labor."

"L-long?" He knit his brow as the word settled on his tongue. "I thought you said she was coming."

"She is," Katrina answered as she calmly pointed at her clothing. "But she won't actually be here for some time."

Of course, he thought as he picked up the clothes she'd laid out. Time. Labor took time. He knew that; had read about it rather extensively. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to panic. It was simply in his nature to do so. Since childhood, it was an ailment that followed him about like the plague, never leaving him be or allowing his mind to find a calm.

"Be that as it may," he began as he knelt in front of her. "I'd rather have you at the hospital sooner rather than later."

"Then, perhaps, you should go and awaken our means of transportation."
Lifting his eyes to her, he frowned, having not a clue as to what she was going on about. "What?"

The way her lips curved spoke to her amusement over his state as she held tight to his shoulders and stepped into the sweat pants. "Abigail, my love."

The suggestive nod of her head toward the door prompted him to truly take in his surroundings for the first time since waking.

Blue walls.

Quilted blanket.

Rocking chair in the corner.

They were at Abbie's house!

"Oh," he replied a bit slowly as he stood and reached for her jacket, the cobwebs in his mind somewhat clearing.

"Of course."

They'd decided to remain at Abbie's house the day before as a means to be closer to the hospital and so they might actually have a means of getting there when Katrina said it was time. He wished he could take the credit for the forward thinking, but, alas, it was Abbie who had offered such clear logic.

"I'll go and do just that," he said, as he turned and hurriedly grabbed the bag they'd prepared. "Come, my love, let's get you to the door."

Katrina's hand pressed against his chest, pulling his gaze to find her smiling. "Just breathe."

At her request, he paused his frantic shuffling of both her and their things. "Forgive me, I'm-"

"It's alright," she whispered, her grin still in place. "But I assure you, I'm well. Go and find Abigail."

Nodding his consent, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "My haste is meant to be filled with love."

"As is my assurance that it isn't needed," she replied, pushing at his chest with a chuckle. "Now, go."

Quickly making his way to the door, he did his best to not rush, but found his feet disobeying his mental commands anyway. His daughter was coming. Today. In a few hours... or however long it took, he was going to be a father.

The idea of it attempted to bring a smile to his face, but he couldn't quite conjure it as his need to complete his mission of getting Katrina to the hospital before he could actually stop and appreciate those facts took precedence.

"Abbie!" he shouted, as he came to her door and repeatedly rapped his knuckles against it. "Abbie, it's time!"

When he didn't hear any response, he became nervous. What if he had to actually enter into her bedroom? He'd never been in there before. Was it appropriate? Would it be invasive? Somehow, he felt it was best to remain where he was.

"Abbie!" he called again, deciding against invading her personal space. "Ab-"

"I'm up," she muttered as her door flew open, revealing her to indeed be ready, if not a bit out of sorts.

Good. At least, he wasn't the only one feeling less that enthused by his daughter's choice of a time to arrive.

As Abbie walked past him, pulling her hair up as she went, she called, "Are you coming? Or are you just going to stand there and let me take care of your wife?"

Swiftly hoping into motion, he hurried after her. "Katrina said the baby won't come for some time."

"That doesn't mean we should just stand around like idiots." Abbie rounded the corner into their room. "Alright, come on, let's go."

The attitude Abbie was giving off could have easily been misconstrued as rude, but one look at her told him she was doing her best to maintain her calm demeanor. It was the lines along her brow that spoke to her anxiety; a giveaway of which he was pleased to be aware.

Once again satisfied he wasn't the only one on the verge of panic, he took Katrina's arm and began guiding her out the door.

By the time he had Katrina loaded into the front passenger seat, Abbie had dialed her sister and climbed behind the wheel.

"Yeah, I know it's the middle of the night, but you said to call you."

Rather sure Abbie's newer tone was due more to aggravation than anxiety, he chose to divert all of his attention to his wife.

"Is this alright, my love?" He checked her over as he buckled the seat belt. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Katrina smiled, her head resting against the seat as she adjusted the strap. "I don't believe there's any preventing that."

Such knowledge did nothing to help his nerves. At a loss for anything else to do, he reluctantly closed her door and moved to his own.

"Everyone in?" Abbie asked, as she dropped her phone in the cup holder. "We have everything? I refuse to make a second trip."

He placed Katrina's bag beside him. "Yes."

"Good." Abbie began backing out of the driveway. "Then, let's get this show on the road. Mission Baby Crane is a go."

"Don't they know we're expecting a baby at any time?" He paced the waiting room, throwing the occasional glare toward the older, and in his opinion quite rude, nurse behind the front desk. "Shouldn't there be more urgency about this place? It's a hospital for God's sake!"

"Crane," Abbie growled, propping her head against her fist as she leaned over in the chair. "They're working on her a room."

Not to be silenced, he went on, "This is unquestionably the worst hospital I've ever visited." He halted his pacing to give Abbie his most pointed glare. "And I lived when they only had one room and burning candles to light their way."

"Crane, if you don't shut up-"

"My love," Katrina whispered, drawing his gaze from the daggers in Abbie's eyes to the hand Katrina was holding out toward him. "I need you with me."

The way her eyes pled with him to come to her had his feet moving before he'd taken his next breath. How could he not concede to such a wish? She was sitting there, her patience ever faithful and her discomfort clearly visible.

"Forgive me," he begged as he took the seat next to hers. "I've been no comfort to you at all."

Katrina's smile as she leaned her head to his shoulder successfully soothed his nerves enough to allow him to wrap an arm around her. "No, you've not."

Feeling like the worst kind of fool, he promised, "I'll not take my hand from yours again."

"I'm pleased to hear it."

The way her body trembled in his hold reignited his worry, prompting him to lean forward to catch a glimpse of her face. "Are you in much pain?"

She met his gaze, her expression pinched. "Our little girl isn't content to be within me any longer."

That information took hold of his heart and squeezed.

"Well, as soon as I'm done marveling over her, I'll have to give her a strong reprimanding for her behavior."

A smile came to Katrina's lips. "You're going to lecture her? I'll believe it when I see it."

"Oh, I will," he assured, before nodding his head side to side with a small measure of playfulness. "But perhaps a little more softly than previously stated."

"Hmm," she hummed as she resumed her place against him and closed her eyes. "I'm just ready to meet her."

Pressing a lingering kiss to her head, he agreed, "As am I."

Restless and more nervous than he can remember being in previous history, he picked at the sleeve of his shirt as he kept his eyes focused on Katrina's half hearted smile.

She was doing her best to keep her pain from showing. It was obvious in the way every so often, she would clench the sheets, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Then, there was the way she would release a sharp breath every time Jenny turned away to speak to Abbie, her eyes falling closed as she turned her face into her pillow.

He observed it all and he endured it all, wishing with everything within him that he could offer her some means to prevent her pain. If he had it his way, he'd have run the sisters out some time ago.

However, he knew doing such a thing would only further upset his wife, leaving him to bear his frustration in silence.

Yes. In silence.

Since Katrina had been brought into her own room, he'd made sure she was as comfortable as possible before stepping away and allowing the sisters to keep her company. They'd kept her amused, which alleviated a small measure of his worry... but only a small measure.

There was still so much that could happen between the present and the moment their daughter was with them. What if the baby was in the wrong position? What if something within his love stopped functioning? What if Katrina didn't survive the birth?

The last thought nearly brought him to his knees. What if he was left alone? What if he became the sole parent to their precious gift? How would he ever survive without his love?

Eyes falling closed, he slumped further down the wall and leaned his head back, praying he would never be faced with such a circumstance.

He wouldn't survive. At least, not in mind. Without Katrina, what light would be left to guide him? Who would he look to for the comforts only she provided? She knew him as no other did. She knew his deepest fears and his most loathsome thoughts. She knew every facet of his personality and how to manage his moods, both the pleasant and the volatile.

She was his love and his life. He'd called her the very air he breathed at times.

Without her, how would he breathe? How would he face the morning knowing she wouldn't be there to be his light? How would he raise their daughter, their gifted daughter, without her soothing presence? Without her gentle voice to ease his worry? Without her tender touch to calm his racing heart?

"Hey."

Eyes popping open, he lifted his head to find Abbie taking up the space next to him, her smaller form slouching down the wall to match him.

"Hello."

The crack in his voice caused him to flinch, his disdain for the emotions taking hold of him too evident for his liking. He loathed the times during which he knew his weakness was on full display. Such lack of control never sat well with him.

"You know," Abbie began, nodding her head toward the bed. "She'd probably like to hear she's not the only one who's terrified."

Shoulders slumping further down the wall, he nodded and found his hands to suddenly be of great intrigue. "I've never been so afraid."

It was the truth. Moloch, the Horseman, staring down the barrel of a gun loaded and aimed for his head; they all paled in comparison to the looming fear that seemed to have crawled within his being and taken up residence.

Abbie squeezed his arm in a familiar and affectionate way before stepping toward the door while gesturing toward her sister. "Hey, Jenny, I'm starving. Walk with me?"

The younger Mills sister vacated her place on the sofa which she'd been stretched across for the past three hours. "Only if you pay for mine, too."

Abbie muttered something he couldn't make out as the door closed behind them, leaving he and his love alone at last.

"My love?" Taking a deep breath, he turned to Katrina, who's glistening eyes were boring into him with silent pleading. "You should go, too. I know you're hungry."

Conjuring his best smile, he grabbed the back of a chair and dragged it to her bedside. "I'd rather be alone with you while I can."

A flash of pain flickered over her features as she pressed her pillow under her neck. It bothered him so deeply he moved to the edge of his seat and laid a hand over hers.

"Where do you want it?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, her lips thinning as she attempted to smile.

"You're not," he replied, the break in his voice hardly the greatest part of him revealing his worry as he felt himself very near on the edge of tears. "I can see how you're struggling. I can't stand it, Katrina."

The chill of her fingertips on his cheek drew his head to the side so he could press his lips to them, hoping the gesture might provide some measure of comfort for her.

"You're always thinking of me." Her smile finally broke through. "I'm so blessed to have you."

"I don't feel as though I do enough," he argued, his eyes falling closed as he felt the tears finally slipping down his cheeks. "This isn't fair to you."

"I'm sure if I asked you to breathe for me, you'd attempt to do that on top of all the other wonderful things you do for me."

Lips pressed to her palm, he whispered, "I wish I could take your discomfort."

His words were meant to be heroic, to be a reference to the fact that he was willing to do anything for her; go to any lengths to make her happy. The last thing he expected was her laughter. It was enough to snap his eyes open to find her head tilted back as she shook her head.

"What?"

She cast him an amused look. "Ichabod, if our roles were reversed, there'd be no end to the complaints and demands."

More than a little ruffled she'd say such a thing, he rolled his eyes. "I'll have you know, Mrs. Crane, that you are very..." He grinned. "Correct.

Glad to have finally brought a true smile to her lips, he threaded their fingers together and shared in her amusement.

"It's good to see you smile."

If it took making the biggest fool of himself the world had ever seen, he'd do it to see some of the weight lifted from her. Swallowing his pride was an easy task when it came to the love and understanding with which Katrina never ceased to provide him.

When her laughter finally died down, she whispered, "All I want is for you to stay with me."

Well, if that was all she asked in return for all she was giving him, who was he to deny her?

"I can do that."

"And maybe tell me a story," she added, her brow lifting. "You tell the best stories."

Pressing another kiss to her knuckles, he whispered, "Whatever you wish, my love."

Never in his life had he felt so helpless. As his wife struggled for her every breath, fought with every ounce of strength afforded to her, he was able to do no more than hold her hand with encouragements pouring from his lips.

"I can't do this," she panted, her head rolling back and forth. "It hurts."

At a loss for feeling any sort of usefulness, he smoothed his palm over her forehead and looked down the bed at the doctor and two nurses assisting him.

He'd yelled at them earlier and nearly had himself thrown from the room. The threat of his dismissal had brought around Katrina's pleas for him to not leave her, causing him to do his best to keep his voice restrained to only her vicinity. The last thing he wanted to do was be separated from her.

"Alright, Mrs. Crane," called the doctor, an older gentleman who looked like he already had one foot in the grave... a thought he may have mentioned aloud when scolding the man earlier. "Let's meet this little girl."

The next several minutes saw his hand begin to lose all feeling, something he did his best to keep from his face. Instead, he attempted to draw her attention to the fact that any moment now she'd have her greatest wish fulfilled; to hold their little girl.

"She's nearly here, my love," he whispered, while smoothing a hand over her sweat drenched hair. "You're doing so wonderful."

To see his wife in such dire need of relief fueled his desire to help her. Katrina wasn't one to complain or exaggerate her pain. She was a woman of steadfast strength and grace. So, to witness the tears leaking from her eyes as she sought out the help he cold not provide was torturous. To see her begging for his aid, for his intervention, paralyzed him with helplessness.

"Ichabod, I can't."

Squeezing her hand, he leaned closer and whispered, "Yes, you can. You're fearless, Katrina; the strongest person I know. Our daughter is going to be so blessed to have you as her mother. There'll be nothing in this world she'll fear facing due to the steadfast strength and love you'll teach her."

Her face contorted with pain as she followed the doctor's orders to keep pushing.

It felt like a lifetime of watching her fight. However, as he did, a steady admiration for his wife continued to grow.

To think that if Katrina had given birth in the time in which they were born, he wouldn't have experienced this with her. He'd have never been allowed the insight into all she was going through to give him a daughter; to give them a daughter. How many men had taken their wives for granted in what they did? How many men had missed the opportunity to see the strength their wives possessed?

"Alright, Katrina," the doctor called, his voice steady and calm. "We're nearly their. I just need one more strong push."

Katrina's body arched as she did what he considered the impossible. He didn't care how many women had birthed babies throughout history. His wife was amazing. The way she conjured another bout of energy to bring forth their daughter left him stunned.

As the doctor pulled away from Katrina and turned to the nurse, he kept a firm hold on his wife's hand even as he sought that first glimpse of his daughter he'd been longing to see for quite some time now.

It was then that he heard a sound he'd surely never forget. "Is she-?"

He wasn't sure what to even ask. Just the should of her had successfully robbed him of his thought processing ability. That squeal of discontent at being taken from her mother's womb; of being exposed to the harsh elements in the world; it was a sound like no other.

"Ichabod."

Eyes back on his wife, he found her lifting her head in an attempt to see their squealing baby; her face expectant with a smile tugging at her mouth.

"Is she alright?"

"She surely sounds it," he answered, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're amazing."

Katrina's breathing was still labored as she dropped her head back to the pillow with a smile, her fingers tightening around his. "I want to hold her."

"Yes, they're just..." He wasn't sure what was taking so long, but from what he could tell, they were simply checking their baby over. "Cleaning her up."

"I don't care," Katrina replied, rolling her head back and forth. "She's allowed to be as dirty as she likes. I just want to see her."

Unable to help his grin at her spirit, he turned to voice their wish just as the nurse came around the bed; a white blanket bundled in her arms.

"Well, well," the young nurse said as she paused beside him, prompting him to quickly stand; his attention already diverted to the bundle in her arms. "She's here, daddy."

So, she was.

Bright red and a head full of dark hair at that.

"Just be gentle with her head," the nurse instructed, as she began handing over his whimpering daughter.

"Oh, I-" He shook his head as he retreated a step. "Katrina should- I'm not-"

The nurse smiled. "You'll do fine. Just slip your hands under mine."

Doubting very much his ability to do this, his eyes darted from the nurse to his daughter.

"Here." The nurse took one of his hands and placed it under his daughter's head. "Just pull her close."

"I've never held a baby," he whispered, his voice teetering between terror and awe.

"Well, she's lucky to be your first," the nurse said, as she pulled away, leaving him holding his daughter with both hands, her small form pressed into his chest.

She was so light and he was sure she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever beheld. Her head full of hair stuck out every which way, causing him to smile as he held her closer. Everything about her was more than he'd ever wished for since learning she was to be his.

"Ichabod."

Katrina's voice pulled him from the spell in which he was caught.

With great care, he turned to her and bent a knee to allow her sight of their creation.

"Oh," she whispered, as she lifted a hand and stroked a finger over their daughter's cheek. "Look at her."

"Isn't she perfect?" he beamed, his pride not to be denied. "Do you still wish to hold her?"

In is mind, it hadn't been possible for Katrina's smile to spread any further. He should have known better. Katrina had always been in the habit of exceeding his expectations.

"I'm quite sure I've never had a greater wish."

Hardly able to disagree, he eased their daughter into his wife's arms, taking care to mind her head for surely he'd never held anything more fragile.

When Katrina had her, she laughed, the tinkle of it swelling his heart to the brink of exploding. Never in his life had he seen anything he wanted to be part of more.

"She's extraordinary," he said, leaning over the bed and pressing his lips to Katrina's hair. "You're both extraordinary."

Katrina lifted her free hand to lay against his neck as her eyes remained transfixed on their daughter. "Just as you are, my love."

Smiling against her skin, he dropped his gaze to their daughter's round face, splotchy and tinged pink as it was, but still perfect.

"We'd never have made it this far without you." Katrina shook her head as she leaned back to look at him. "You've made my deepest desires a reality."

The way she was looking at him spoke volumes to her happiness in this moment.

Despite what she'd gone through to bring such happiness into the world, she looked as light as he'd ever seen her.

"What's her name, my love?"

Her smile spread as her eyes once more found their baby girl. "I have the perfect one."

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