Striker looked down at his sleeping daughter's form as he held her small hand, his thumb running circles along it.

This moment would've been a lot more peaceful if she weren't sleeping in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask on her face. As much as he hated seeing it on her, he understood it was helping keep her breathing under control.

Fortunately, it would only be like this for a couple more days then they could go home together.

Tears of relief welled up in his eyes and a small smile was on his face. He so damn happy the operation was a success. He put a lot of trust in the doctors who worked in this clinic to bring her back to him. The wait was difficult, but worth it.

As happy as he was that Maria made it, his mind couldn't help but wander back to what lead to this.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Striker bolted right upstairs the minute he heard Maria's cries for help. Once he arrived, he was horrified to find her lying on the floor tearfully clutching her chest. Her heart was pounding rapidly.

"It hurts, daddy! It hurts!"

The cowboy immediately picked her up, got a blanket to wrap her in, and held her close as they rode Bombproof right into town towards the clinic. He shushed and whispered comforting words to the impling over and over the whole way despite being just as scared as her.

Lucky for him, he knew just about every doctor there. One in particular just so happened to a friend of his mother and had been there for his family since the day he was born. If they could do anything to help him then surely they would now.

Of course, the hard part was having to part from his daughter so she could be checked upon. Poor Maria cried and begged for him to not let go even after he assured her he'd see her soon. It took a while, but he was not prepared for the results when they approached him.

She had a tumor... in her heart.

Striker felt for a split second that his would just stop.

Almost before he realized it, he'd collapsed onto his knees sobbing profusely.

It can't be. It just can't.

Losing his love was bad enough, but this? No, not like this.

He can't lose his little girl!

And then, a familiar face appeared; his family's friend, Katrina, arrived just in time and came to his aide. After much reassurance and comfort-it helped a little that she'd been a mother herself-Striker's sobs died down. At least, enough for him to make words.

"Please... tell me she's gonna make it..."

"Good news, the tumor is benign. But she's going to need surgery otherwise it'll only get worse."

Surgery? That's NOT what he wanted to hear. "But what if-?"

"There's no need to worry. If it's in our power, and I think it is, we will save her. I give you my word."

Striker knew damn well Katrina was determined. Therefore, he should be too. His daughter's life depended on it.

"Daddy?"

Striker must've fallen asleep at some point if the sound of the impling's voice startled him. Despite her droopy eyes, she was looking right at him.

"Hey there, sugarplum." The cowboy gently stroked her cheek. "How do ya feel?"

"Okay. What about you?"

"Ya don't have to worry about me, I'll be alright."

"I'm sorry... for worrying you..."

"Don't apologize, baby doll, it's not your fault." Striker gave her a kiss on the cheek. "What's important now is that you're here with me."

Maria managed to make a small smile and give his hand a little squeeze.