A/N; This is a sequel to Two Realities. But you can follow this without having read the other. Alicia and Will have been married for two years, and they run the firm in New York. Anything else I think you'll gather from the story, but please let me know if anyone has any questions. I'm happy to answer/fill you in!

This chapter is from Will's POV.

Chapter 1, And Baby Makes Three

March 2018

"Will." Alicia's cry of distress and tight grip on my arm rouses me from my sleep with a racing heart.

"I'm in labor." She says catching her breath.

"Are you sure?" I question sitting up still trying to wake my body from its sleep. I take her hand into mine. She's only thirty four weeks along and we've been through this before three times, three times too many. We're probably headed to the emergency room once again, but surely she isn't in active labor.

"Am I sure?" She glares at me and I can't help but chuckle under my breath. "Trust me-I've been through this before—twice in fact." She says with emphasis through gritted teeth finding no humor in the situation. "This isn't like the other times Will. This is real." She says to try and further convince me. Then another contraction hits and she cries out grabbing her stomach holding tighter to my arm. Once the contraction has passed and she releases her death grip on me, I move into action pulling on my clothes and grabbing the hospital bag. I quickly move back to her and hold out my hand.

"Let's go." But she doesn't move. She doesn't even look up at me just continues to stare blankly at the soft patterned curtains that cover the large windows in our room. Curtains she meticulously picked out like nearly every other item in our New York apartment almost two years ago.

I don't understand why she isn't moving and then it hits me. I bend down in front of her taking her hands into mine. It's time for me to be the brave one. Outwardly anyway, even though I know full well what's running through her mind. It's the same thing running through mine. Will she still be alive in a few hours to help me raise our baby? A baby I've grown quite attached to though we've not formally met. I've spent hours over the past eight months having a one way conversation with this little one. Something Alicia finds quite adorable. This little one and I have already done plenty of plotting against its mother to which Alicia just rolls her eyes.

"Alicia" I say looking right up at her in as gentle and stable voice as I can muster. My touch brings her out of her thoughts as she looks down at me. The look in her eyes is a mix of frightened pain.

She was never supposed to get pregnant. The odds were a million to one. We thought we'd taken the necessary precautions to prevent such an event, but sometimes unexpected things happen.

Words from the doctors themselves three years ago, "Getting pregnant will likely kill her." The memory cut through me like knives the night she told me she was expecting just nine weeks after our second wedding anniversary.

"I'm pregnant" she said. Words that should have been music to our ears caused us to not speak for nearly two weeks. I insisted we couldn't keep it. The doctors were sure it would kill her to carry a child. She insisted we would. Claiming the blood loss and stress of aborting it could cause just as much harm, even death, as easily as carrying the child. It was two weeks in which I wanted to fly back to Chicago and strangle Jeffery Grant for shooting both of us, and leaving her in a coma for nearly six months. A coma that doctors thought she would never come out of. One that has weakened her body physically for the rest of her life, and caused her to have awful nightmares and panic attacks for an entire year.

"Alicia" I try once more to get her to respond.

"Will I'm scared. I don't want to die." She admits with words that both of us are thinking then she looks away.

"Look at me." I say in a whisper. She returns her gaze to me as a few tears escape her eyes. "The hospital is ready. They know of the risks and they are prepared for everything. But we have to get there so that they can take care of both of you." She nods her head then reaches over to the drawer of the bedside table with a shaky hand. She retrieves four envelopes from it.

"What are those?" I question.

"This is just in case… There's one for you, one for Zach and Grace, and one for the baby." It takes only a moment for me to register the meaning of the envelopes and when I figure it out I'm nearly brought to tears. She's written each of us a letter in case she doesn't make it. I can't believe she went through what must have been an agonizing process to write them. I have to swallow hard and pull my emotions together before I can respond so I lean in and press my lips to hers that are salty and wet now.

"Put those back in the drawer. We," I place my hand to her swollen belly. "Aren't ever going to have to open them." I silently hope I speak the truth as the words fall from my lips.

She cries out in pain once again and I decide to take control of the situation. I pull the strap of her bag over my shoulder and lean over lifting her into my arms. She's still light as a feather. She's barely gained any more weight than the baby over these past months even though she's been on very strict bed rest since our second trip to the emergency room fourteen weeks ago. She doesn't protest or say a word just wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head against my shoulder.

I called the hospital on our way. They were ready and waiting when we arrived. I thought my nerves would subside once we were here. But after trying to have a vaginal birth which the doctors thought would be the safest route, her oxygen levels plummeted and the baby was in distress. It was determined her uterus had ruptured. The doctors are just now beginning an emergency c-section procedure. She keeps slipping in and out of consciousness, and I wonder if one of these times she won't wake back up.

I hide my fear and tell her it's okay and that everything will be all right as her eyes flutter open once again. "I love you," she says as tears escape her eyes.

I lean over just inches from her face "I love you too," I respond. A few moments later her eyes flutter shut.

The next thing I hear is a loud cry and the words from the doctor. "It's a girl." I lean over to get a better look as the nurses begin to wipe her clean.

"Dad, do you want to cut the cord?" The doctor asks. A broad grin crosses my lips as I look from the baby to Alicia who hasn't opened her eyes in ten minutes. Then I move around her to do the honors. One snip and it's done and I notice how already this little one looks exactly like her mother. Something that will be a constant reminder of Alicia should she not pull through. My desire to hold her is great but filled with trepidation. I've never held an infant so small. They weigh her and my notions confirmed. She is small at a mere four pounds twelve ounces and seventeen inches long. It's a tender moment and I wish Alicia were awake to see it.

Too quickly things go wrong. They are about to hand the baby over to me when they decide she is having trouble breathing and before I can blink they rush her off to the Nicu.

I turn my attention back to Alicia who is still unconscious. Much to my horror just a few moments later the doctors start frantically working on her. She's hemorrhaging, the very thing everyone was worried about.

They insist I leave the room. "No, I'm not leaving her." I protest. I promised her a long time ago I would be with her past her last breath and I mean to keep my promise. If she's about to take her last breath I want to be here.

I finally relented to their requests and here I am sitting on this cold chair just outside the operating room. It's two in the morning and all I can think about is if I'm soon to be a single father, or even worse just single all together. My heart is about to jump right out of my body waiting for any word on either Alicia or the baby. I'm pretty sure a part of me has died in the past eight months. A part of me that I had to turn off to deal with the circumstances and impending possibilities. A part of me that I hope will live once again assuming we all make it out of this.

Thirty agonizing minutes later the doctor opens the door and comes to sit next to me. I can't tell through the surgical mask if it's good news or bad. I stop breathing. He pulls the mask from mouth and smiles.

"We stopped the bleeding. We aren't out of the woods yet, but I think she's going to be okay." I let out my breath and let my head fall into my hands for support. I am rarely ever brought to tears but a few escape as relief settles over my entire body. This man has just saved the love of my life and the mother of my child.

"Thank you." Are the only words I can muster for the moment. He smiles again.

"You are very welcome. Your wife has a strong will to live. I've only been involved in a few other births with blood loss like this, and similar complications where the mother survived. I'm not going to lie. We have to monitor her very carefully over the next week. It's a miracle she made it." A miracle, words I've heard in reference to her one too many times over the course of the last three years.

"Can I see her?" I ask. I believe him, but I would prefer to see for myself that she is in fact alive.

"Soon," he says. "We're getting some more blood into her and she is still asleep. I called the Nicu. Why don't you go up and spend some time with that little one! She's doing better and breathing on her own now. She must have your wife's genetics!" Obviously, I think to myself. "You can see Alicia when you get back." We stand and I shake his hand thanking him once again before I make my way to the elevator to spend some time with my child. My child, something I never thought I'd be blessed with. The thought warms my entire being as I approach the door to the Nicu.

As I enter I wish more than anything Alicia were with me. I feel completely out of place. The nurses must be used to fathers with deer in the headlights looks, because they immediately lead me over her and begin explaining everything step by step.

"We were about to give her a bath. Do you want to help?", one nurse asks. My feet won't move.

"Y…yes," I think is the correct answer. I can tell the three of them are amused at my hesitancy, but it's nothing they haven't seen before. Just before we begin I remember something and pull out my phone. I was given very specific instructions from—well everyone close to us that I better take lots of photos once this little one arrived. If I don't, both of our mothers, Grace, and even Diane will be serving my head on a platter. I ask one of the nurses if she'll take some photos. She gladly obliges.

They proceed to guide me through the bathing process. I can't stop thinking how everything belonging to this little one is so small, yet I can't believe she fit inside Alicia's stomach. She doesn't appreciate being unwrapped and placed in the warm water, or having her head rubbed with—a toothbrush? Really, I think to myself. Yet this is the tool of choice to clean the thin layer of dark brown hair on top of her head.

She keeps her quiet whimpers up until she's dressed and wrapped tightly in a blanket. One of the nurses places a small pink bow in her hair before placing a soft hat on top of her head. They inform me she has been having trouble keeping her body temperature up. Something that comes as no surprise to me, she definitely has her mother's genetics. They want to put her back under the warm lamps but ask if I would like to hold and feed her first.

"Yes," I say although I'm terrified I won't do it correctly. I'll either drop her or she'll starve I'm sure of it. Now I really wish Alicia were here because she's done all of this before.

I sit in the fairly comfortable rocker and the nurse places her in my arms making sure I support her head. All my fears are soon washed away. She seems to fit like a glove in the crook of my arm. Just like Alicia when she lies on my chest. I begin to rock back and forth and a new kind of love fills my heart as I look down at this being in my arms. It's different from the love I have for Alicia or even my parents. I'm pretty sure if anyone tried to harm her I'd be thrown in jail because they wouldn't survive the attack. I'm suddenly aware of the fact that I'd rather no one get near her unless necessary. What if she catches someone's germs? What if someone squeezes her a little too tightly by mistake? I'm sure these overprotective feelings will subside once I've had some sleep, but for now I feel like I'm the only one capable of protecting her. It is my job as her father after all.

The nurse hands me a bottle and helps me place it just right in her small mouth. "It's important for her to learn how to suck as soon as she can." The nurse says. A natural reflex we are all born with I'm told, but she needs to practice. Little over an hour old and she's already learning. She took to the bottle immediately. My genetics will take credit for this one!

As I continue to rock and feed her the nurses give us some privacy. I take advantage of the brief moment to tell her that her mother made it, and that she won't have to suffer through me parenting her alone. Something we are both grateful for. I know she's grateful because when I tell her the news she opens her eyes. I realize then that her eyes are the only evidence she belongs to me. Every other feature seems to be a replica of Alicia.

She finishes her bottle, the entire two ounces. I'm skeptical this is enough to fill her up but the nurse assures me she doesn't need more. Too soon the nurse insists she be placed back under the warm lights. I hesitantly let her take her from my arms.

"Does she have a name?" The nurse asks as she places her back under the light.

"No" I respond. "Her mother and I couldn't agree on one."

She smiles and politely responds. "Well you certainly aren't the first parents with that kind of trouble!"

As she says this I have an idea for a name that just might satisfy both Alicia and I. I stand to go. The nurse informs me I can come back to hold and feed her again in two hours if I like. I thank her then head back down a floor somewhat anxiously, to spend some time with Alicia. I realize that this is likely how my life will be spent for the next few days splitting my time between these two who I love more than anything else.

I enter her room quietly. There is a nurse in the room checking on her. "She's still asleep." She informs me.

My heart sinks just a bit, but this should come as no surprise to me. Half the time I've spent in hospitals over the past three years has been in waiting for Alicia to wake up. At least this time she's not in a coma like the other two instances. A brief bout of familiarity hits as I move and sit in the chair next to the bed and take her hand into mine. I sit and watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest for a few moments then move my gaze to her face. She looks peaceful now just as she would if she were home sleeping in our own bed. As much as I want to stay awake and not miss a moment my eyes are growing heavy. The stress of the night is catching up to me. I lean back in the padded chair and close my eyes.

I don't think I fell asleep completely, but when I feel Alicia's hand move in my own I open my eyes. The clock on the wall indicates I have slept for nearly two hours. It's five thirty in the morning. My attention is quickly redirected from the clock when I hear my name.

"Will" it comes out quiet and groggy. I smile when I see her eyes open. She looks right over to me.

"Hey" I say squeezing her hand tightly running my thumb across her knuckles. "How are you?" I push further.

"Weak, but Will—did she make it?" I can already see the tears welling up in her eyes, and I realize she wasn't conscious when they pulled the little one from Alicia's stomach. Tears threatening my own eyes once again I smile and nod my head up and down.

"Yes" is all I say and then Alicia's tears begin to fall as a smile of relief and disbelief crosses her lips.

"She's fine." I say to help reinsure my words. "She looks just like you!"

Once her tears subside a short time later, she looks around the room then turns back to me. "Where is she?" It hadn't occurred to me that the lack of the baby's presence would cause her some alarm.

"In the Nicu," I blurt out without thinking about the effect these words would have on her either.

She immediately looks terrified. "The Nicu? I thought you said she was fine."

I have to think fast which would be easier if I weren't so tired. "Alicia, she's okay. She had some trouble breathing so they took her up there. She's breathing on her own now. She's just having some trouble holding her body temperature they're keeping her warm. I promise she is fine." I reach for her other hand as she exhales closing her eyes.

"I want to see her." She insists.

"I promise I'll take you to see her as soon as you have enough strength."

"Okay" She says giving in. It's not what she wants, but it's the way it has to be for now. "We have to give her a name." She says still holding her eyes shut.

"I think I came up with a name you'll like." I say. She opens her eyes and looks at me again. I can tell she doubts my statement.

"Okay let's hear it."

"Mireille" I let the name sink in for a few seconds before I continue. She hasn't come right out and said she hates it yet which is a good sign. "I know it's different but I like the meaning." I continue pleading my case before the toughest judge in the country. "It means miracle and she really is one. Both of your lives are after everything we've gone through to get her here."

She still doesn't respond and I don't know what to think about this silence. She looks at me very seriously pulling one of her hands from mine. She lifts her index finger bending it to indicate she would like me to move in closer to her. She continues this until our faces are just inches from each other.

"It's perfect." She whispers then leans forward placing her hand on my chin pressing her lips to mine. Of all the times I've kissed her this has to be one of the best. We've just crossed another huge hurtle and we both know it. Our time together has been lengthened once again.

We talk for awhile longer. I tell her about my excursion in the Nicu. Some of which she finds quite amusing. I leave her once again to go hold and feed Mira, the nickname she'll go by, with strict instructions to take some more pictures for Alicia to see.

When I return I think Alicia has fallen to sleep again. I sit back in the soft chair taking her hand into mine and close my eyes.

"Will, I love you," she says.

"I love you too," I say squeezing her hand. I can feel sleep setting in once again. But just before I drift off I can't help but feel like the part of me that died the night Alicia told me she was pregnant has come back to life. Though this chair is not exactly ideal for a good night sleep, I'm pretty sure the rest I'm about to experience will be the best sleep I've had in eight months.