Last chapter. Just need to throw up a trigger warning for anyone who has lost a pregnancy.

"It's such a beautiful day," Paige commented, linking her fingers with Walter's.

Walter squeezed her hand. "It is, isn't it?" The sun was out, there was a warm breeze, and given the unexpected rain of the previous week, the strips of grass nearby were actually green. "Thankfully no one needs us to save the world this morning." She laughed, using her other hand to reach around and press into her back. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "The back pain is only going to get worse, but that's normal."

Walter knew walking helped – on the days that her feet didn't hurt.

"Hopefully no one will need us to save the world tomorrow," Paige continued. "Ralph has that presentation that he wants us to go to."

"I suppose even if we have a case," Walter said, "we would go to Ralph's school. After all, we did tell him that we wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Oh, we may have backed ourselves into a corner there," Paige said with a laugh. Walter chuckled, breaking stride for a moment to lean over and kiss her temple. When they resumed walking, a tall bearded man walking toward them smiled at their affection. Paige noticed. "What a public romantic you've become," she commented with a smile.

"Hush."

They stopped walking, smiling at each other.

Then there was a loud, sharp sound, the screeching of tires, and Walter and Paige looked up, jumping in surprise as brake lights lit up the road next to them. A car careened through a red light, then veered to the right, toward the sidewalk.

Walter jumped to the side, keeping himself between Paige and the oncoming car. Off balance, Paige stumbled to the side, into the bearded man. In his own panic, he shoved her out of the way, sending her hurtling into the bumper of the car, which had come up on the curb before screeching to a halt.

"No!" Walter shouted as he watched the events play out. It had all happened in less than two seconds, but it felt like slow motion. "Paige!"

Walter wanted to scream at him, he bearded man had vanished around the corner. He rushed to Paige's side. She was curled up, her hands clutching her stomach, her face contorted in pain. "Paige, Paige, Paige, Paige..." her name rushed from his lips as he fell down beside her, one hand pulling the hair out of her face, the other running over her swollen stomach. "Paige, talk to me."

She opened her mouth to respond, but what he thought was the start of a word quickly morphed into a moan. She was curled in the fetal position, facing him, and Walter rose up on his knees, peering around her, hoping desperately that he wouldn't see blood. He didn't. He looked up toward the car. An elderly gentleman was in the driver's seat, unmoving. Heart attack, Walter guessed.

"Paige, honey, hold on, we're going to get help." He carefully rolled her onto her back and slipped an arm under her knees. "Can you sit up, so I can get you?"

Paige pushed up on her elbows, squeezing her eyes shut as Walter gathered her into his arms and struggled to his feet. He was sweating, his heart racing as he started to run back to their car. No, no, no.

One of Paige's hands came up, resting against his neck as she drew in sharp breaths through her teeth, creating a hissing sound. Walter's legs felt like jelly, and he was glad that they'd driven and parked at the end of the street, rather than walking from the garage.

The baby. They might lose the baby. At thirty five weeks, Paige was just over a month from her due date and her stomach protruded enough that protection from outside trauma was extremely limited. Given how she had hit the still moving vehicle, and how much pain she was clearly in, Walter knew the chances of serious trauma to their baby were high.

He eased her into the back seat of the car and jumped in the driver's seat, driving through the lot's barrier arm and onto the street. Three miles, we're only three miles from the nearest hospital. I can get us there in less than ten minutes.

He blared his horn. One car rolled down his window and a hand appeared, middle finger extended. "My wife is hurt!" Walter shouted, even though his own windows were rolled up.

"Walter..." Paige managed.

"Right here," he said. "Stay calm, breathe, we're getting help, everything's going to be fine." His hands were so sweaty they couldn't grip the steering wheel properly. Walter's head spun as he thought about the terrible irony that would be him getting them into a car wreck. He risked removing his hands from the wheel for a brief moment to wipe them on his pants, then clutched it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Paige, I see the hospital sign up ahead," he said, wanting to fill the car with a sound other than her pained breathing. "We're almost there."

The light in front of him turned yellow, and he slammed his foot down on the pedal, rocketing through the intersection just as the light turned red. He pulled into the hospital parking lot and read the sign that said emergency was to the right. He went right at the fork.

"Help!" He shouted as he jumped out of the car and a nurse exited the building to greet him. "My wife's pregnant! She got hit by a car!"

The nurse opened the back door and leaned in, saying something to Paige, and suddenly, there were three other nurses, two pushing a gurney, all shouting things at each other. Paige was removed from the backseat and loaded onto it, and Walter ran up, grabbing her hand. "I love you," he said quickly, not recognizing his own voice.

Paige croaked it back, and then she was pushed rapidly away, the first nurse guiding Walter to the waiting room.

Walter O'Brien rarely cried. But as he sat in the waiting room, his head between his knees, he felt the unfamiliar stinging in his eyes.

The pregnancy had been so perfect, so far. The baby's measurements were always in top percentiles. Paige had had no complications, and the back pain she'd been experiencing since thirty weeks had been the only thing she had to complain about. The baby was active, responsive to their voices, and Walter had begun to allow himself to believe that nothing would go wrong.

And they were so close. The nursery was set up. Paige had set up the crib below equation that she'd set up on the wall in wooden letters and symbols – IQ + EQ = Kara, the name they'd chosen in week twenty nine.

This late in a pregnancy, a loss wouldn't mean some cramping, some bleeding, some passing of clots. This late, Paige would actually have to deliver their daughter, even if they wouldn't be bringing her home to the nursery.

If the accident had killed the baby and pushed Paige into labor, she would have to do it alone. It would be considered an emergency and Walter wouldn't be allowed back. If the doctors determined they couldn't save the baby and would induce labor, or would do a caesarian to deliver, Walter would demand to be at her side if they didn't offer it up front.

He looked at the clock. It had been over an hour. Why isn't there news? Walter got up, agitated, and paced the floor for a few minutes before going to the desk. "Paige O'Brien," he said quickly. "You need to tell me what's happening with Paige O'Brien. Please."

No sooner had he spoke than a familiar face walked through the door leading to the back. Walter recognized the man as one of those who had been in the waiting room when they'd arrived, who'd immediately rushed into the back with Paige. "Doctor," he said desperately, walking up to him. "What's happening? Please tell me what's happening."

The doctor looked down, and Walter realized that he'd grabbed fistfuls of the man's coat as he approached, right up near his chest. He let go, embarrassed. I nearly manhandled a doctor. "I'm sorry."

"Your wife has some serious bruising. During pregnancy, your organs aren't always exactly where they used to be. If the car had been moving much faster on impact, the consequences would have been far more dire. She is going to be fine."

"And..." Walter struggled to draw breath. "And the baby? Oh God," he said when the doctor didn't respond right away.

"We did an emergency delivery, given the location of impact and the fact that we suspected internal bleeding in Mrs. O'Brien, which we did discover was present, but it wasn't as serious or complicated as it should have been."

What wasn't? Paige or Kara? Walter couldn't say anything. All he was capable of was breathing hard as he listened to the doctor.

"Your daughter has a broken collarbone, multiple fractures in her right arm, and she has visible bruising on over fifty percent of her body. But her lungs are healthy, and there doesn't appear to be any brain damage or any serious harm to her internal organs."

"She's...she's alive? She's here and she's alive."

The doctor nodded. "Yes."

Walter staggered backward in relief, almost knocking over a guy walking behind him. He barely noticed. His entire world currently consisted of knowing that somewhere behind those doors, his wife and daughter were going to be fine.

The doctor let him see Paige less than ten minutes later, and he rushed to her bedside. "Walter," she said as he approached. Her face was pale and she had a monitor attached to her finger and a tube of oxygen under her nose. But she was propped up in the bed and smiled at him as he grabbed her hand. "Kara's fine, Walter," she said. "They delivered her. I haven't seen her since then but she cried. She cried like a full term baby."

"Shhh," Walter said, seeing the tears in her eyes and blinking back his own as he bent to kiss her forehead.

"No," Paige said, her voice choked with emotion. "My lips, please, my lips."

He lowered his head, kissing her gently, capturing her upper lip between both of his. He slid his hand over her still prominent stomach to her other hand, linking their fingers as they had earlier in the day, when their biggest problem was her back ache. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I was so scared."

"Me too," she said, their lips still less than an inch apart. "But..." tears leaked from her eyes, "but it's going to be okay. The nurse said they were going to bring...oh!"

The sound of the door opening caused both of them to look toward it. A nurse entered, pushing a tiny cart. "Hello, you two," she said. "Someone is looking for you."

"Oh..." Walter stood up straight, glancing between Paige and the nurse as the latter bent, lifting up a tiny bundle wrapped in the typical blue, pink, and white blanket.

"Do you want her, Mrs. O'Brien," she asked.

"Please," Paige said, shifting her weight and eagerly taking the bundle into her arms. She instinctively brought the baby against her, holding her closely and securely. She pulled the blanket back, and Walter got his first look at their daughter.

The doctor had given an accurate description – she was badly bruised, nearly half of her skin appearing discolored, and she had a contraption on her arm. Her hair was the same color as Paige's, but for Walter, his daughter's eyes were like looking into a mirror. "Oh my God," he managed sinking down on the side of the bed next to Paige and leaning over, kissing her just in front of her ear. He slid an arm around her shoulders, the other one coming up to rest against one of hers underneath their daughter.

"Hi, Kara," Paige said quietly.

The baby had been squirming, seeming slightly distressed about the circumstances, but at the sound of Paige's voice, she stilled, eyes wide and blinking as she tried to focus on her mother's face. She wouldn't' be able to just yet – Walter knew newborns had terrible eyesight, but seeing tangible proof that Kara knew their voices and took comfort in them made his heart swell.

"You can barely see me, so I don't think you can see Daddy," Paige told the newborn, "but he's here too. He brought us here. He and I, we protect each other. And you, too."

She continued to talk, in that low, soothing voice that had worked wonders on Walter and Ralph countless times before Kara ever existed, but Walter didn't register her words – at least nothing that came after Daddy.