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The flat is quiet when Gaz drags his exhausted body through the front door. The dregs of the disastrous deployment cling to him like burs—all the warning signs he might've missed in the briefings, all the ways he could've done things differently. If Roach hadn't been there to help him jerry-rig and set off the mother of all explosions, they might not have gotten out at all.
His throat tightens as he pulls off his boots but eases with a deep, if shaky, breath. He's home, and he won't waste time on "what ifs." Not when his family is within reach.
He hurries up the stairs and down the hall, his steps light from years of training, to the room he shares with the love of his life. Or rather, the loves of his life now: his beautiful wife Belle and their two-month-old baby Beatrice.
The instant he opens the door to the bedroom, the mission, the hours-long debrief, and the doubt about his fitness as a lieutenant fall away. The room is dark except for a nightlight in the corner, and as his eyes adjust he makes out Belle's slack face, her breathing deep and rhythmic. Even with the exhaustion clear in the bags under her eyes, she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His chest expands with the love he holds for her, the tough-as-nails doctor and former combat medic who stole his heart before he knew what hit him.
She'll be mad at him for not waking her up, but he lets her sleep anyway, silently stripping and dropping his clothes into the hamper. The carpet is plush and familiar under his bare feet as he grabs a loose pair of pyjama bottoms from the closet and pulls them on before tiptoeing toward the other half of his heart.
A soft coo from the crib next to Belle's side of the bed brings a smile to his face. He peeks over the edge, and wide brown eyes and a small, wiggling body come into view.
"Hey there, sweet pea," he whispers.
Bea gives him the widest grin he's ever seen, and his heart nearly stops from a rush of surprise and delight.
"Well that's a new one," he murmurs. "You smilin' at your Daddy?"
Little arms rise into the air, fists clenching and unclenching in a wordless request. It would take a far stronger man than him to deny her.
"Alright, but don't wake your Mum. Deal?"
He makes a fist and gently bumps it with Bea's tiny fist. She grins again and gurgles, tiny spit bubbles collecting at the edges of her mouth. The giraffes on Bea's onesie laugh at him as he scoops her up and, after dropping a butterfly kiss on Belle's temple, heads for the rocking chair in the corner. It's a plush reclining rocker that Soap and Ghost paid way too much for, but Gaz can't say he and Belle weren't grateful during those first few weeks taking care of Bea. In all, Bea is a happy, healthy baby, but sleeping through the night has never been her strong suit.
"And here you are, awake in the middle of the night," he whispers before dropping a kiss on her soft, smooth forehead. "At least you're being quiet. I knew no daughter of mine would go back on a fist bump deal."
Bea grabs at his ear, and he shakes his head in an exaggerated way. Another grin spreads across her face, and a soft, gurgling laugh creates more bubbles in the corners of her mouth as she waves her hands in the air. He rests his elbows on the plush arms of the chair and cradles her in the crook of his arm, her cheek pressed against his bare chest.
Something unclenches in his body as he lets himself relax into the cushions. The worries of his job still swim in the back of his mind, but they're muted in this room, surrounded by his family.
Bea's jaw opens wide in a yawn. As Gaz echoes the movement, the words of his former lieutenant, now captain, run through his mind.
"They give us chest candy for bravery in the field," Ghost said as he and Gaz sat in the corner of Belle's hospital recovery room, "but this? Havin' a kid? Might just be the bravest thing I've ever seen you do, Garrick."
The comfortable chair and the warm body in his arms lulls him into a half doze as he watches Bea's eyes flutter closed. A deep breath in small lungs clutches at his heart, and he squeezes Bea a bit tighter to his chest.
He's not the truly brave one. Belle is the one that would be left alone with a child and a missing partner if he died.
Gaz swallows. The lump is back, memories of the mission—his first one after coming back from paternity leave—and their daring run away from a base full of enemies who weren't supposed to be there as Roach counted down the timer ticking in his head.
"I can't promise I'll always come home to you, sweet Bea," he whispers as his eyes close. "My job doesn't work like that. But I can promise I'll always do my very best for you."
Gaz wakes to the sound of a fake digital shutter clicking. At Belle's quiet curse, he can't help the smile that spreads over his face.
"You get a good one?" he asks before peeking an eye open.
"Yeah. And you're in trouble for not waking me up."
Belle is smiling, though, as she walks over and presses a long, lingering kiss to his lips. "Missed you."
"Missed you, too."
"When did you get in?"
"Around 0200. Long debrief."
"Shite mission?"
Gaz huffs a wry laugh at how well she knows the subtleties of the military world. His smile fades, though, as his gaze falls from Belle's face to watch Bea begin to wiggle awake in his arms.
"A close one," he admits.
In the quiet of predawn, he hears her throat click with a hard swallow. Bea begins to fuss, so he moves her to his shoulder and stands so he can pull Belle into a hug.
"You hurt?" she asks into his shoulder, her fingers digging into his skin as she clings to him.
"No... thanks to Roach."
"I'll send him a fruit basket."
Gaz huffs another laugh. "Love you both. So much."
"We love you back. And you're home, so let's make the most of it, yeah?"
As morning light creeps into the room, Belle draws Gaz to their bed, and he lets himself fall fully into the love of his family. With Bea settled on his chest and Belle curled into his side, he knows he's exactly where he's meant to be.
The future might not be promised to him, but he'll hold on as tightly as he can for as long as he can.
For now, that's more than enough.