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prince--thomas · 2 years

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Levi John Phillip Tremaine Harrington (the First) ~~ [Tonnie]

In which Annie and Tom become parents...[takes place: May 20, 2022]

@ugly-anastasia

[tw -- labor and all that comes with it (though not super detailed)]

ANNIE: Annie always knew when it was time.

Jaxson’s due date came and went and Annie didn’t bat an eye, and when the doctor finally delivered all 8.5 lbs of him seven days later, Annie was exhausted but not surprised. Harlynne jumped the gun, sending Annie into an early labor, then taking her time and only turning herself around to emerge head-first in the fourteenth hour. This time, a few days before he was due, Annie knew her son was coming. And he would be here sooner than anyone expected.

Maybe it was something each of her kids had gotten from her, a stubborn refusal to be on anyone else’s schedule. Maybe that was why Annie could always tell. She had gone along with Eloise’s suggestion to travel out to London the week of the due date, but Annie had, deep down, had a feeling Levi would show up much sooner or later than that. And her theory was confirmed while driving to Jaxson’s soccer game, early Saturday morning.

“Zelly,” Annie said calmly, pulling into the parking lot of Swynlake General while Jaxson stared at her, bewildered, and Harlynne obliviously babbled into a plastic toy cell phone. She knew her sister was probably busy with some work thing, but her mother was much further away geographically and she needed someone who could be here fast. “Zelly, I need you to get to Swynlake as soon as possible and watch the kids. It’s time.”

She wanted to wait for her sister to get here anyway before she checked herself in (someone had to stay with the kids) so Annie decided to make a few more calls. Her thumb oscillated between two different names— next to each other in their phone due to their shared last name— and then, against her better judgment, called the latter name. She just felt… wrong not doing it. She didn’t want to be alone, too.

Also, she was kind of scared to tell Eloise that she wasn’t going to London (she knew she wouldn’t make it in time). So maybe Annie was putting that one off a bit.

“Hey Tom,” Annie said cheerfully. “You’re not driving or anything, are you?”

THOMAS: Although he had read all the books that said a due date was more of a guideline than a sure thing, Tom was still operating under the fact that his son was not coming for several more days. There were several more days to prepare. To get things in order. He wasn’t even sure what things he still needed to get in order, but it felt like there was always something. He had cleaned the whole house top to bottom on his last day off, much to Phil’s delight and John’s bemusement but he’d just been nervous--

What if there was too much dust and the bairn choked? That didn’t make any sense, but--Tom couldn’t help himself. He wanted as much time as possible. To finish the finish on the bairn’s crib. (There was one more layer drying on the one for his own bedroom, he’d gifted Annie with hers last week.) To fold all the wee clothes he’d bought (there weren’t many, he wasn’t sure how many he needed and had no one, really, to ask--except Hera, but even the witch couldn’t help him with everything.) To find a place for the diapers and the toys and everything that a baby needed in their house, which felt so tiny the more Tom tried to cram into it. There was so much to do…

Tom was asleep on his cot at work when the phone rang. The ringer jolted him from his sleep and he groped blearily for it as one of the other firefighters threw a pillow in his direction. It was the middle of the day, but that didn’t matter for the fire house. Tom rolled off the cot and left the room, so as not to disturb his bunkmate.

“Hullo? What? No. I’m not.” His heart jumped to his throat. There was only one reason that Annie would be calling: “What’s wrong?”

ANNIE: Tom sounded like he’d just woken up. Well, she thought, not her fault that he had the weirdest sleep schedule in existence. Although that would probably help him, once the baby was born…

Suddenly, Annie felt nauseous again, and it wasn’t the nausea she had gotten accustomed to over the past nine months. It was the realization that the baby was here several days early, and she and Tom hadn’t really talked about how they were going to do this. Annie had just assumed, like Eloise had told her, that Tom wouldn’t care to be involved. That obviously wasn’t the case, Annie could tell from his tone.

So what was she going to do with that?

She couldn’t think about that right now. She was stressed enough as it was, and wasn’t stress supposed to be bad for the baby or something? “Nothing’s wrong,” she said quickly, trying to keep her voice even and calm, even though she felt anything but. “I just thought I would let you know that I’m going into labor, I’m at the hospital, and you’re going to want to drop by in the next couple of hours if you want to be here when the baby is born. But my sister’s on her way, so no worries if not!”

Her voice betrayed the slightest strain. The truth was that Annie had never done this before, going to the hospital alone like this. Even if it was someone she hated, she wanted someone by her side. Even Charlie.

Even Tom.

THOMAS: “What? But--there is still two days,” Tom said, stupidly.

He had just been--counting on two more days. Two more days to prepare for the Order. Two more days to…prepare for the bairn. That was what the doctors had told them. May 22, the day after Philly’s birthday. They had plans tomorrow: to go to the pub. A last hurrah for Phil before Tom was not able to go out to the pub anymore. Two more days. He had needed those two days to stretch on and on, until he felt like he was ready.

Except, you were never ready for a baby. That was what Mistress Alexander had told him. That was what all the baby books he’d diligently made his way through said. He had just thought--maybe, he would be. He could do whatever he needed to in order to be ready.

Tom was still standing in the middle of the hallway, frozen. Several seconds had passed--he wasn’t even sure if Annie had said anything else.

The bairn was coming. Today. Right now.

Tom jolted, as if he’d been struck. “‘Course I’m comin’.” He spun in a circle in the empty hallway, trying to determine where best to find Chief Denim and tell her that he had to leave. Should he call Elliot to come and cover for him? “Do you--uh, do you need anything? I can swing by your house…” He twisted his ear as he started down the hallway of the fire department.

ANNIE: Annie wasn’t entirely unprepared. She had a “go” bag in the car with the essentials and some snacks and entertainment for the kids, a tip she always gave anyone she met who was pregnant. Nothing ever happened the way you planned it, and while Annie had humored Eloise by arranging to go have the baby in London at the hospital Eloise suggested, she had known it was pretty likely that life would have other plans.

And she was secretly kind of happy it had worked out this way. She wanted Dr. Robbins to deliver her baby. Annie trusted Eloise’s judgment, obviously, but Dr. Robbins had been there from the beginning. Before Annie had even known Eloise.

Ughh, Annie did not want to have to tell Eloise about this. Wasn’t that funny? That, for once, she was dreading hanging up with Tom and calling Eloise?

“I’m good. I have the go bag.” Annie reached for the bag and dug through it, double checking that everything was there. Except… wait. There was one thing. Why hadn’t she put that in the bag? Maybe– oh, yeah, Annie had been updating it recently. “Actually… sorry, I forgot the baby book. It should be on the kitchen table. There’s a key under the mat. Just don’t take too long, I really think we’ve maybe got an hour.”

She wasn’t entirely sure about that timeline, and she didn’t want to make Tom panic, but after two births, Annie was pretty in-tune with her own body. One thing was certain: the baby would be here soon.

THOMAS: An hour?!

Tom felt his whole body jolt as if he had been struck by lightning. In just one hour--his son would be born? He had thought labor took much longer than that! His brain was pure static as he wandered the halls of the fire department, as if they were a brand new labyrinth instead of the place he spent most of his time these days.

It took him a moment to process that she wanted him to swing by her house to…pick up a book. He almost wanted to scoff at her, but being annoyed was the farthest thing from his mind right now. Though, he wouldn’t be stopping to get a bloody picture book and risk missing his son’s birth. There was no way on Earth he’d miss that. Even if he had to run all the way from the firehouse to the hospital. It was only about two miles away after all.

“Er, right. Okay.” Tom made a note to text Phil and John, see if one of them would run by to grab the book. They would probably want to come to the hospital anyway.

“I am gonna find Chief Denim and then I’ll be on my way over.”

~~ ~~ ~~

It took another three minutes to find Jean. Another two to explain the situation and have the chief release him with a clap on the shoulder and well wishes.

It wasn’t until then that Tom realized that--the baby was coming and something could go wrong, because things went wrong all the time. He got in his truck and gripped the steering wheel, taking a deep breath to steady himself, feeling a little panicky which was an uncomfortable feeling. Tom was used to being calm in emergency situations but--

This was his son.

Tom made it to the hospital and was quickly ushered to Annie’s room. Benefits of knowing all the nurses who worked the A&E.

“Hey,” Tom said as he skidded in, boots squeaking on the polished floor. As soon as he made it into the room, he felt awkward. There was no one else. No nurses or doctors. Just Annie in the bed. He glanced around and wondered what he was supposed to be doing. “Uh, er--how are you feeling? How is everything going?” His eyes glanced at the readouts from the EKG, her blood pressure was a bit high but he figured that was to be expected.

ANNIE: Thankfully, it hadn’t taken Drizella long to arrive. She didn’t live very far away, and she was also a very aggressive driver who didn’t believe speed limits applied to her. Which was concerning in most scenarios, but helpful right now. Aside from Mummy (who would take a bit longer to get to the hospital), she was the only person Annie really trusted with Jaxson and Harlynne right now.

They were in the waiting room, watching something on the iPad while Drizella supervised. And Annie, for the first time, was alone. Yes, she knew multiple people (Mummy, Eloise, Tom) were trying to move heaven and earth to be at the hospital right now, but nobody had made it back. Until now.

Annie’s eyes flicked up from her phone screen as Tom burst in. “Hi—“ she started, though just as soon as she said it, she was hit with a sudden, painful contraction. “Oooof, okay,” she groaned, grimacing and trying not to show how much pain she was in. “Did you get the book?” she asked through her teeth, as the contraction continued.

THOMAS: Tom tensed as Annie did, as if he could feel the pain too. It wasn’t pain, though, it was just--

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Anxiety wasn’t an emotion that followed Tom until recently. Through the last few months, he had been plagued with it to the point where it had become a constant companion. Most of the time, it buzzed low, like feedback from a radio station not tuned correctly. Now, it was at full static, drowning out any other thoughts in his brain. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. He felt guilty, but this guilt was pointless--what had happened had happened and he couldn’t feel it too deeply anyway, because his son wouldn’t exist without all the rest.

Tom stepped a little further into the room. “Er, uh--no. John said he’d bring it,” Tom told Annie, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the hospital room. “I didnae--wanna miss anything. They are coming, though. Uh, soon as Phil’s class ends.” He hoped that the baby waited until after that, but he supposed he wouldn’t know either way. Phil and John weren’t going to be in the room. They’d wait out with Annie’s sister and children, he supposed. Could probably watch them, if Annie wanted her sister in the room with her.

“Can I, er, get you anything?”

ANNIE: Annie probably would have rolled her eyes at that, because really her house was not that far out of the way and she had told Tom she thought they had at least an hour. But it was kind of hard to be irritated at him while her mind was being inundated with the uncomfortable sensation that was contractions. It wouldn’t be long now. Everything was about to change. Forever.

Which was too big of a thought for Annie right now. Right now, she just needed this baby out. God, it had been long enough.

“Can you grab my juice?” she managed, letting out a long breath as the contraction finally passed. She gestured to a fluorescent-colored plastic cup full of pulverized fruits and vegetables that was sitting on the nearby chair. Drizella had brought it over for her, but now she was out in the waiting room keeping an eye on the kids. “I already told you, Tom, it’s probably gonna be another hour. You probably just want to sit in the waiting room with everyone else. You really want to see all this?”

She said it because she didn’t want Tom to think she needed him back here. But… maybe she kind of hoped he would say yes. Maybe she did kind of need someone back here. Not him, specifically. Just someone. And Tom would do.

She supposed that was how they had gotten themselves into this situation, wasn’t it?

THOMAS: Tom quickly crossed to grab the cup and then to the bed to hand it to her, which meant he was close enough now that he could grip the white rail around the bed if he wanted. He didn’t. Even if he did kind of want to, just for something to hold onto. He felt like a little boat, tossed out into sea. It had been so long since he’d been on the water that his sea legs hadn’t quite solidified yet.

He was bloody terrified, thinking of all the ways labor could go wrong. Tom didn’t know many of them, but he’d watched enough movies and such to know that it could end bloody and terrible. He wasn’t prepared. He didn’t know what to expect. Somehow, through all of this, the actual labor wasn’t something he’d really thought about. And it wasn’t like he and Annie had talked about it either. He supposed they were supposed to, in the third trimester, but they’d hardly spoken at all the last few months. They’d not even talked about if she wanted him in the room or not.

He hadn’t even really thought about if he wanted to be in the room or not. When he thought about labor, he thought about women screaming and men downstairs, where the sound couldn’t quite reach, sharing cigars and waiting to be told if they had a boy or a girl. It was old fashioned, of course, but Tom had always been old fashioned. Not necessarily by choice, but certainly by birth.

What had his father done?

Tom realized he didn’t care because he wanted to be here for every second of it. How was he supposed to miss his son’s first breaths? His first cries? The first time he blinked open his eyes?

“Do you want me to go?” He managed to ask against the rioting inside of him that told him just to not give her a choice in the matter.

ANNIE: Luckily, Annie didn’t have to answer that, because another contraction seized her. Christ, this baby was really in a rush, she thought, focusing on her breathing the way she had been taught in all those prenatal classes she used to take before Jaxson and Harlynne were born. She hadn’t had time this year. But she remembered.

“No,” she exhaled, not looking Tom in the eye. She had all kinds of emotions about this, and she had a feeling that looking at him would trigger them and she would totally lose control. “I’m gonna need someone to grab the doctor when it’s time, so I guess it’d help if you stuck around. I just wanted to put it out there, like, you really don’t have to.” She relaxed. “You kinda look like you’ve seen a ghost, though, so, like, if you’re gonna pass out–” Annie waved a hand vaguely. “Just don’t, okay? It’s gonna be a little distracting to Dr. Robbins.”

THOMAS: Tom didn’t know how he should feel about Annie admitting she didn’t want him to leave. He had been preparing for a fight. Or--maybe even for begging. This was supposed to be Annie’s moment, anyway, from all the books he’d read and all the advice he’d gotten. It should go however she wanted it to go. She got to decide if she wanted him to stay or go. But Tom couldn’t imagine a world where he wasn’t right here, in the room, when his son was born.

But she surprised him. She wanted him to stay. Or, at least, she wasn’t going to kick him out. And, even though she wasn’t looking at him, he caught just a glimpse behind the mask. Enough to realize she probably didn’t want to be alone. He could imagine labor was terrifying, because it sounded bloody terrifying. Not that any woman he knew talked about it that way, but from the things he read--

Annie’s comment made him snort and he did reach out then to grip at the side of her bed. “I’ll be fine,” he told her. “I am used to it, innae way.” This is what he had been trying to tell himself, in preparation, anyway. “I did grow up on a farm, y’know.”

Did she know that? He had bloody no idea, to be perfectly honest. There had never been a point of their relationship where they’d actually talked about anything of substance.

ANNIE: “Are you calling me a cow?” Annie retorted, though, surprising even herself, she laughed instead of being offended. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the high pressure and the fact that Tom was the only other person in the room, or maybe it was the fact that, sitting in this hospital bed with her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead and her body sending continuous waves of pain signals– she didn’t feel one bit pretty.

And for once, it wasn’t really a big deal. She kind of had… other things to think about right now.

Annie chuckled. “I’m kidding– ooooh, okay.” She was almost grateful for the contraction, so she didn’t have to interrogate the fact that she was making good-natured jokes, or wondering about his life that she knew so little about now. None of that mattered. Tom was going to disappear. He seemed committed now, but Eloise knew him better than Annie did, obviously. Annie should listen to her assessment.

The contraction continued, and Annie tried to focus on her breathing. This one was longer, and it felt different. “I think you should– maybe– grab the doctor? Don’t panic, I just think– can’t hurt.”

THOMAS: “Wha—no!” Tom said, baulking that any woman would think that he’d say something like that, though of course Annie would think that. Since she always thought the worst of him. No matter how hard he tried.

For a few moments, he just stared at her as she laughed and then doubled over with a grunt. He wondered if the laughter was delirious or—

The flicker of any hope that Annie and Tom could get along had died long ago for him. When she’d contacted his family behind his back was the last straw. A family he’d warned her about. A family who wouldn’t even talk to him. (Alright, well, Mellie did, but he didn’t want to put her in the middle, so he rarely talked back.) He couldn’t forgive her for that kind of betrayal, though he hoped, one day, they could be civil. Maybe this was a flicker of that. Not hope but just—civility.

Tom was knocked out of it when Annie spoke again.

“Oh, uh—right.”

Honestly, for labor, this whole thing was much more calm than Tom imagined. When he stumbled into the hall, heart pounding—everyone else was just going about their business. When to him, he felt like they should be rushing about like the firefighters at the station when a call came in.

He wanted to shout: HELP!

But instead, he just went up to the first person in scrubs he spotted.

“‘Cuse me, ma’am, er—my—“ Tom stumbled.

The nurse stared at him, clearly irritated.

“Annie Tremaine. Room 337. She, uh, asked for the doctor? I, er, think she’s ready to start pushing.”

The nurse’s face brightened slightly. “Alright, I’ll let Dr. Robbins know. Don’t you worry, let her know we’ll be right there.”

“Thank ye,” Tom said, giving her a nod before beelining back to the room.

“Doc should be here soon,” he told Annie, speaking around his cuticle as he bit at it nervously.

ANNIE: By the time Tom returned, the contraction had ended and another begun, intense and painful. She remembered the last time she had gone through this, with Harlynne, she had been self-conscious about the way she looked, with her face beet-red and her hair sticking to the sweat on her face. Maybe that was the silver lining of her general disdain for Tom. She didn’t care what he thought she looked like.

She’d clean herself up in time for the Instagram post later. For now, she just had to get through this.

“Okay,” she breathed, nodding and fanning herself with the neckline of her shirt. “I’m telling you. Now’s your chance. This ain’t gonna be–”

Just as she said that, the door opened and in walked… not quite Dr. Robbins.

“Mummy!” Annie didn’t even think about the fact that her accent completely changed, the way it sometimes did when she felt an emotion particularly strongly. “Oh, thank god.”

THOMAS: The door opened and in the frame stood a tall, sharp woman, whom Tom knew to be Rodmilla Tremaine. He had met her once, in passing, and had found her to be more tolerable than her daughter, but intimidating and cold. Nothing like his own mother. He was not surprised that she was here but—it made him feel even more awkward and out of place.

Automatically, he stepped away from the bed, so that the mother could go to her daughter’s side. His hand lifted again to his lips as he chewed on his cuticle again, eyes darting around.

Thankfully, only a few minutes later, Dr. Robbins burst in, in all her sunshine and rainbows. Her eyes crinkled with a smile and Tom felt a little better at once. Behind her was a whole gaggle of nurses.

“I hear we’re ready to have a baby!” she announced brightly, clapping her hands together.

The relief was short lived as the team bustled in and went about fiddling with this and that, pushing Tom even further into a corner of the room, where he felt like he would be out of the way.

ANNIE: When Annie had given birth to Jaxson, she had been nervous. She had realized, suddenly, that there was so much nobody had ever told her, and all the prenatal classes in the world still couldn’t answer those questions burning deep in Annie: what if something went wrong? How would she ever be okay? And even if everything went right… her life was about to change forever, wasn’t it? Quickly, too quickly, she had gone from girl to woman to wife, and now she was about to be a mother.

Annie wasn’t nervous anymore. Or, she wasn’t nervous in the same way. Harlynne had been different, because Annie had been afraid she would mess up a girl the same way her mother had messed up her. And now, this little boy was going to be different, because Annie barely knew his father and they hardly liked each other and what if people treated him differently, the way Eloise had cautioned they might? And then there was the poison from all the way back in September– that Dr. Robbins had told her seemed not to be a problem, but who ever really knew?

There was one thing, though, Annie clung to as she breathed in and out, to the rhythm of Dr. Robbins’ instruction. This baby was hers. This body that had created this baby was hers. She had made this choice, all on her own. And whatever happened next… it was going to be on her terms.

“I’m ready,” she grunted, in a much lower and decidedly more British voice than she ever let anyone hear her use. And her mother reached for her hand and Annie took it and it didn’t matter whether or not she felt nervous, because she was doing it anyway. And, come to think of it– that was a pretty good Insta caption, was it not?

Annie would keep it in her back pocket for later. Because right now, it was time to–

“Push!”

This was the part Annie didn’t explain to people when she told the story, because real emotions were private things. Pain was private. So was pride. She glossed over those things, exaggerating the details that didn’t really matter. The songs she had put on her birthing playlist, for example (it was a lot of Beyoncé) or the advice that you should always flatiron your hair ahead of your due date. It was easier than showing her softer side.

So it was just that room, Mummy and Tom and Dr. Robbins and the nurses, who saw Annie sweat and grunt and groan. And it was just that room who saw her burst into tears the moment she heard that first cry.

“Good work, Mum,” Dr. Robbins said gently.

Annie sniffled, then laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, I– oh my god, his hair! He’s so ginger!”

THOMAS: Wait, I am not ready! Tom wanted to shout as soon as Dr. Robbins entered the room. His hands were sweating, his heart was racing. He felt like he might pass out, like he might fall off the edge of the world and into nothing.

Wait. Annie started to push. The tide was rising, he thought to himself. There was no fighting the tides. There was no fighting labor. Tom did not want to fight anymore.

Wait, please, stop. He just wanted a moment to breathe fist.

But just like the rest of this journey so far: no one listened to him. They couldn’t. His son certainly couldn’t, sailing into this world without any idea of what he was getting himself into. It reminded him of Eric, tumbling down a rockslide. It reminded him of Merida, goading him into a fight with wooden swords, or fists when they were younger rolling around in the flowerbeds.

It reminded him of seeing Eloise crying in the wedding chapel when he’d come to get her to walk her down the aisle. I am not ready, Eloise had wept, and Tom didn’t know what to do. The whole church was waiting.

I have you, he’d told her. We’ll do it together.

The moments slowed, stretching like molasses as these memories filled the spaces between contractions, the spaces between his heartbeats. Tom moved forward without thinking about it, drawn towards this fate like he had always been. The nurses parted like a sea: Tom the prow, Tom the ship, Tom—just one man. A man who wasn’t ready until he had to be.

Tom watched his son born and Tom heard him wail. He thought of banshees and the wind that used to scream around the castle on dark, stormy nights and of gulls that called in the sky, a sailor’s first sign of land. Of home.

Dr. Robbins placed the baby—his baby—his son—Levi—on Annie’s chest, still wet and squirming. His face was scrunched and red. His body scrunched and red too. Tom just stared, too afraid to move. He watched Levi’s chest shudder with gasping breaths, watched his fingers reach and clench, his legs kick haphazardly.

Someone nudged his shoulder.

“Dad?”

“Huh?” Tom ripped his eyes away, but only for a split second before looking back, as if he was worried Levi would disappear if he didn’t keep his gaze on him.

“Do you wanna cut the cord?” The nurse smiled and held up a pair of scissors.

“Oh, uh—” Tom glanced at Annie, at the baby, at the scissors. He lifted his hand. Took them. The silver flashed in the lights. The scissors were trembling, his hand was trembling.

“Take a deep breath,” the nurse advised, her voice teasing.

Tom didn’t notice. He breathed in. Tom had never trembled before. He had cut through blood and sinew and bone before with confidence. Had killed and maimed, his aim steady and true. He was deadly. Now, he had to do the opposite. Levi was life, brilliant and red and screaming.

Annie rolled him and Tom cut the cord in just one snip. He flinched; Levi just kept crying.

The nurse took the baby then, Tom once again following them like a shadow over to the weight station, where they cleaned him and pricked his foot and weighed him.

“A perfectly, beautifully healthy baby boy!” Dr. Robbins announced, handing the now swaddled baby back to Annie. “Congratulations.”

ANNIE: Babies were really quite ugly, objectively. They didn’t photograph well until they were at least a few weeks old. Annie had discovered this when Jaxson was born, having never seen a newborn in person before that point. She had saved all the pictures for the newborn photoshoot they eventually had a professional do, with lighting and editing and perfect pastel backgrounds.

But they were always so beautiful they made Annie want to cry, little eyes opening for the first time, little fingers and toes and little tufts of hair that were too short to be tied up in a hair bow. She looked down at her son and he blinked at her, and it filled Annie with a strange emotion she couldn’t quite name. I did this! I made this! she wanted to shout to the whole hospital, and the fact that it was her third didn’t make it any less extraordinary.

She was too tired for that, though. Just like she was too tired to think about what was going to happen with Tom, or his family, who were surely rushing to Swynlake as quickly as they could right now, and they could burst in at any minute… no, she wasn’t going to worry about that.

Annie looked up at Tom, smiling sleepily. “It’s a good thing he got your nose instead of mine, it looks like,” she observed, because it was impossible for her to talk about her feelings right now, but she did want to talk about Levi. Her son. Her son.

THOMAS: Tom watched the baby, feeling like he was looking at him through a telescope, as if he’d been out, drifting at sea for years—his whole life—and he had finally spotted land.

It was so strange. This whole time, the baby had been more of a thought than a reality to him. He had to keep repeating it to himself. Had to stare at the little black and white ultrasound photos and try to imagine. There was no imagining anymore. It was not a trick: he had a son. The baby laying in Annie’s arms was his. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to shout, he wanted to get on his knees and weep and pray.

Instead, he just stood awkward and stiff, still half in shock, still—uncertain about all of it. Like he was going to wake up from a months’ long dream. Could he reach out and touch him? He wasn’t sure. His vision suddenly went blurry and he blinked quickly, not caring as the tears carved two streams down his cheeks. He just didn’t want to not be able to see Levi. He couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Annie’s voice made him flinch, like he was a fish on a hook and she’d just tried to reel him in. He blinked, looked at her, and then back at the baby.

“Bloody hell,” he finally managed. Probably not the best first thing to say when your kid had just been born but bloody hell. “He—he looks like me!” Tom stepped close enough that his hip bumped the bed as he peered closer, his hands wrapping around the railing of the bed and gripping tightly.

ANNIE: “Yeah, I freakin’ told you he was yours. And you didn’t even believe me. How’s that for a paternity test?” she snorted, but it was sort of affectionate in its own way. It was the way Annie talked to her sister, and, increasingly, her kids— irreverent, a little guarded, but more genuine than the tone she took with her Instagram followers. Or with the majority of the people she knew in Swynlake.

That wasn’t to say Tom was family, of course. Except… well, maybe that was exactly what he was. How did that old saying go? You could pick your friends, but you couldn’t pick your family? Annie hadn’t picked Tom. Well, maybe she had picked him once. But since then, they had said so many unforgivable things to each other, had done so many unforgivable things to each other, and yet…

Here they were. Bound together forever.

Well, probably not really. It was totally possible, even likely that Tom was gonna disappear just like Eloise said. Get scared, or go chasing down another silly cause. Annie was ready for that. But Tom was standing there with stars in his eyes, looking like he’d hit the lottery. And Annie thought… well, they might as well have this moment before things inevitably got complicated again.

“Go on, you can hold him,” Annie said, maybe a little reluctantly, leaning closer so Tom could reach for the baby. “Be careful. Support his head. Don’t drop him.”

THOMAS: Tom didn’t know what to say to Annie, honestly. And for the moment, he didn’t even really care that much. It wasn’t that he hadn’t believed the paternity test but--seeing it for himself…he didn’t know how to describe it. It was like looking through a looking glass into the past: his son, a reflection of himself, clean of any of his father’s sins.

Also with beautiful, bright red hair.

When Annie shifted, trying to hand the baby off to Tom, he flinched and then stiffened, before forcing himself to lean down and slide his hands under the baby’s back and head. He knew how to hold babies. He had nieces and a nephew. Had gone to see them when they’d first been born, though he never thought he’d held one quite so small.

Levi was so small and he squirmed as Tom lifted him into his arms, making his heart squeeze anxiously. He tucked him quickly to his chest, folding him into the crook of his elbow. There was that old adage about how men only fell in love with their babies once they were born and they held them. Tom would’ve said he loved Levi before that moment, but the strength of the feeling that dragged him under could be nothing else but a riptide of love. Tom’s knees felt weak and he managed to take a few steps to sit down in one of the chairs near Annie’s bed.

Once he was settled, he lifted one of his hands to stroke his thumb against Levi’s soft forehead. He touched that lovely full head of hair, the nose that looked like his, albeit smushed and red. Tom smiled, and there were still tears on his cheeks as he leaned over to kiss the baby’s forehead, the corner of his deep blue eye.

Levi squirmed and made a noise in the back of his throat.

“Ach, come now, mo chridhe. Tha thu bòidheach. Tha gaol agam ort,” he murmured in Gaelic.

Tom looked up at Annie after a moment. “I, er--can I take him to go see John and Phil? Let you rest for a mo’.” The nurses and doctors were still moving about, cleaning up, and Mrs. Tremaine stood cold-eyed and stoic, stroking her daughter’s hair. His gaze darted between them uncertainly as he stood carefully, not wanting to let go of his son quite yet.

ANNIE: Annie didn’t know what Tom was saying, but the way he said it was enough. And Annie wanted to believe it. She did. Maybe Eloise was wrong about him. Maybe he would stick around. Maybe love was powerful enough to overcome whatever forces had overtaken Tom and made him the way that he was, made him turn on his family…

God, no, it was all those stupid hormones, making her feel sentimental. Had the past ten years taught Annie nothing? Love was powerful, but it was fickle. Maybe Tom was in love now. But he could change his mind. Annie had to look out for what was best for the baby. Tom was not what was best for the baby.

She sat up a straighter, her expression a little more guarded now. “Mummy can go with you,” she said hesitantly, shooting her mother a look. She would have insisted on going herself, but she could use the rest… and she really didn’t want to talk to Phil Knightley right now.

THOMAS: If Annie said no, Tom didn’t know what he was going to do, because he’d asked it like a question, but he meant to do it either way. Levi was his son. He could take him to go see his friends, the only family that he had. He was just going down the bloody hallway--he was ready to argue.

Annie agreed. As long as he took her mother.

Tom didn’t argue. He was too elated. He didn’t have time to worry about Annie and what she did or did not want. He had just enough affection towards her for having given him his son that he only nodded and then didn’t wait for Rodmilla to follow him out of the room. He walked carefully, tense--looking at everyone walking by him in the hallway as if they were an enemy or a danger. He wondered if the lights were too bright. If the smells were too strong. If it was too loud.

But they made it to the waiting area without incident.

John and Phil, who were sipping coffees--Phil checking his phone, John reading a book--stood up at once at the sight of him. Matching grins on their faces. Phil reached him first, all gangling, galloping limbs--moving far too fast than was probably appropriate in a hospital. He clapped Tom on the back and crowed something stupid about breaking out the brandy and cigars.

John followed at a more measured pace, his presence warm as he peered at the baby, gripping Tom’s bicep, giving it a squeeze. “Good job, Tommy,” John told him with a little nod, and it was the same kind of approval that Tom imagined a father might give.

Tom gave him a hesitant, watery smile.

“If I had to share a birthday with anyone, I am glad it’s this little guy,” Phil said proudly, reaching out to touch Levi’s cheek.

“His name is Levi John Phillip Tremaine Harrington,” Tom told them, saying his son’s full name for the first time.

John and Phil beamed.

They visited for a while. Tom sitting between them, admiring his son, appreciating the warmth of his tiny body, the weight of him steady in Tom’s arms. His breathing was steady, Tom fascinated by the rise and fall of his little chest. Until it started to hiccup and Levi’s face scrunched. He began squirming and the gentle shushing Tom had been doing before wasn’t working.

It was then the thin shadow of Rodmilla Tremaine fell over them. “He is hungry. We should take him back now. I can do it, if you wish.”

Tom instinctively tucked the baby closer to him. “No, I--I got it.” He stood up and gave John and Phil a nod, freeing them from waiting and telling them he would see them at home until later tonight. He planned to stay until visiting hours were over and then be back right away in the morning. He moved back to Annie’s room and reluctantly handed the now properly crying baby back to Tom, the cries echoing in his head.

“He’s hungry,” Tom couldn’t help but say, even if he figured she already knew that. Tom just wanted to make sure that he was alright, that he would always be alright.

ANNIE: As the mother of two little ones, Annie was no stranger to the sound of babies crying. It didn’t alarm her anymore. It had, once– Harlynne used to scream so loudly that Annie was always worried something terrible had happened to her. But now it was just a part of life. Babies cried, spaghetti sauce spilled, you took care of it. Nothing to freak out about.

“Yeah, I figured,” she said, holding out her arms to take him. She bit back a snide remark about how Phil’s ugly face probably was what Levi was crying about, because there was no need to bring bad vibes about right now.

She looked down at Levi, who looked much less peaceful now, but that was okay. You had to fight for what you needed in this world, didn’t you? “You can head out if you want. I mean, you don’t have to, but this part isn’t really that interestin’.” Annie wasn’t all that concerned about privacy– it wasn’t anything Tom hadn’t seen before– but she wanted to give him the out. And… well, she knew Eloise would be here soon. Annie didn’t really want them to run into each other.

Now, that would certainly not be good for the vibes.

#swynanastasia #tonnie #levi john phillip tremaine harrington (the first)#my bonny lies over the ocean #the fall of rome #JUNIOR #my booooy #my soooon

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