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Lockwood stared down at the baby in his arms. The baby returned the stare, big blue eyes going slightly crossed with the effort of focusing on him. She had a shock of dark hair already, downy strands curling over her forehead, and he traced it with his finger.
He had fought ghosts, put his life on the line more times than he could count. He had also never been more scared than he was right now. Lucy was asleep in the hospital bed, understandably exhausted, and their friends weren't coming until morning, so for now it was him and this tiny girl, alone in the weight of the silence and sterility of a hospital at night.
This was not a position he had imagined himself in. He had decided, sometime after his sister died, that he would never have children, because he couldn't bear the idea of leaving them alone like he had been. But then he met Lucy, and with their friends they had torn down everything that had left him alone in the first place, from the Problem to Fittes to his own fear of letting people in. Quickly he found that he wanted nothing more than to start a family, to raise children in a world where they would be safe and happy -- in a world where they could be children.
And now he was doing it. Now he was holding his daughter, a little girl named for his mother, and he would do anything if it meant she got to have the life he never did. She would go to parks and have picnics under the stars and go to school and graduate. She would learn to love and kiss and hurt and cry and he would be there for every goddamn step if it was the last thing he did in this life.
Once she fell asleep, Lockwood returned her to her bassinet and settled back in his chair. He still wasn't tired, despite now going on nearly a full 24 hours awake, so he pulled out one of the parenting books Lucy had packed and read. He was going to do this right.
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The hospital began waking up around 6, and Lucy with it. She reached for his hand, and he nearly dropped the book on the floor trying to meet her.
"How are you doing?" He had already known she was the strongest person alive, but after being with her the previous night, he thought she might be the strongest person in history.
"Sore,” Lucy replied. "And tired."
"Fair enough." He kissed her knuckles. "Can I get anything for you?"
"Celia will probably need to be fed soon, right?"
As if on cue, Celia began fussing in her bassinet. Lockwood picked her up and handed her to Lucy, watching as Lucy made little cooing noises at the baby and began to feed her. Oh, he was lucky. He couldn't imagine a life where he didn't get to love these two people.
A few hours later, a very tentative and quiet party bustled their way into the room. Lucy had slept a little while longer after feeding Celia, but was now awake and alert. The little one in question was, unsurprisingly, asleep. It was a small parade of much love and many gifts: Holly had flowers and a small box of cookies, George was similarly armed with a card and promises of much food to come, Flo (who, while now regularly clean, seemed to have scrubbed up extra for the occasion) carried perhaps too many stuffed animals, and Kipps had two blankets, small and large for baby and parents alike.
"Brought the whole animal kingdom with you, Flo?” Teased Lockwood, immeasurably grateful for these people.
"Some of them are from George," she defended. George smiled and mouthed all hers from over her shoulder, setting a gentle hand on his fiancée's back.
"'Sides," she continued, "Couldn't let her have just one."
All of Lockwood's anxieties fled after she said that. No matter what happened to him or Lucy, Celia would never grow up alone.