Disclaimer: I own nothing of As the Worlds Turns and am making no profit from this, though I did have a lot of fun writing it!

Notes: This fic takes place about ten years or so into Luke and Noah's future. I realize that there are some details in here (and the following chapters) that I purposely didn't explain, and I hope that works okay. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my ATWT fics thus far. I really appreciate it and I love hearing your feedback!

Also, I must thank my lovely sister, LunaSempai/Honey, for providing me with the awesome names of Luke and Noah's children. I really wanted to keep the whole Biblical name scheme intact, and she graciously donated her time and offered me up two amazing names. Thanks, kiddo!

And now, on with the show. :-) I hope you enjoy! Please drop me a line. :-)

Little Things

Chapter One: Matthew

"What's wrong?"

I stepped out into the hall and pulled the door closed behind me, stopping to survey the people standing in front of me. My question went unanswered as they all stood still, Holden and Lily looking like they wanted to say something, but weren't sure how. I fixed my attention on my son, who was standing apart from Holden and Lily, closer to me. I immediately knew why everyone was so silent.

I bent down to one knee in front of Matthew, who regarded me with dark, quiet eyes. He hadn't said much recently, and though that wasn't anything new for him, I knew there was something on his mind.

"What's going on, pal?" I asked him softly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

My son's dark eyes caught the light that was shining from the ceiling above us, and I saw the fear behind the calm in his pupils. Holden, Lily, and Hannah all stood completely still, waiting for Matthew to answer.

"Are we going to be able to talk to Daddy again?" he finally asked, his voice barely audible.

My chest squeezed involuntarily at his words. I pulled him closer to me and then picked him up, balancing him against my right hip as I stood. He held to the front of my jacket tightly, his eyes locked on mine.

"Of course you are," I assured him, smoothing his hair. I regarded him for a moment, then gave him a small smile in hopes of lifting his spirits. This was a lot for a six-year-old to take in. "Do you know how much Daddy loves you?"

Matthew didn't answer, but I knew he was effortlessly absorbing my words like a sponge.

"Your Daddy loves you more than anything in the world," I continued, knowing I had his full attention as always. "You know that?"

Slowly, Matthew nodded. He did know. He had spent every morning of his life with Luke, and even though he was young, I knew he hadn't taken it for granted. He knew how much he was loved. "I want to talk to him again," he whispered.

I hugged my son closer. "I know." I kept my voice light in order to instill comfort. "I want to talk to him again, too."

I kissed Matthew's forehead, then looked past him at my family. Holden had Hannah by the hand, and Lily was standing next to her. Hannah had been quiet today, too, which was odd for her, being the feisty ball of energy she usually was. But in light of today's events, she merely sucked on her fingers, holding tightly to Holden with her other hand. All three looked back at me, waiting for me to make the first move.

I looked back to Matthew. "Grandpa Holden and Grandma Lily want to make you dinner," I told him. "Do you want to go back to the farm with them?"

My son was smart; he knew when he'd had enough emotional activity for a day and needed a break. He nodded then, and I could tell he wanted me to put him down so he could join Hannah at Holden's side. I placed him steadily on the floor, then smiled as he turned to Holden and silently took his hand.

Holden and Lily smiled back at me and turned to leave, but before they both could get even halfway down the hall, a doctor in green scrubs stopped in front of them, beckoning for their attention. I recognized the young man as an associate of Luke's special care practitioner, who we'd spoken with more times than I could count in the last two days. I joined them in the middle of the conversation.

"…just need some more medical history, to fill in some gaps," the doctor was saying. Holden had hoisted Hannah to his hip, and Matthew was still holding on to him. Both he and Lily were very intensely focused on the young doctor and the charts in his hand, which we all knew contained Luke's information.

"I'll stay," Lily said to Holden. "I'll fill him in."

Holden agreed quickly, and they both glanced back at me. I nodded in agreement as well. Lily knew more about Luke's medical history than I ever could.

The doctor smiled appreciatively at all of us and then led Lily off down the opposite end of the hall, presumably to a place where they could talk in private. Holden smiled at me, his warm eyes tinged with sadness, then readjusted Hannah on his hip and turned back in the direction of the hall. My daughter looked solemnly over Holden's shoulder at me, her fingers in her mouth, until they turned the next corner and disappeared.

I swiveled on my heel and re-entered the hospital room, where my husband of eight years lay, resting in his bed in what I prayed was peaceful sedation, while the drugs meant to fight off the infection in his only remaining kidney coursed through his system.

It had been two days since he'd gotten sick, and a full twenty-four hours had passed with him under the anesthesia. I took up my chair next to his bed again, thankful that Lucinda had been able to strong-arm the hospital into giving Luke not only his own private room here in Chicago, but also granting me the ability to stay with him every moment I wanted. I couldn't have asked for more in this situation.

I stood in the living room as the fear slowly gripped me. It first started somewhere deep in the core of my gut, then spread outward, creeping steadily along my limbs, tingling until I felt completely frozen in place. This tiny, warm creature lay in front of me, swaddled in a blanket on the changing table, and the only thing I could do was blink.

Luke's body pressed gently against my side. I felt his gaze on me; could see the smile that lit his face. He waited for me to move, and my hands shook uncontrollably as I reached out towards the table and took hold of the blanket, carefully peeling it back from each side of our baby, fingers trembling. Luke chuckled good-naturedly under his breath, while I started feeling dizzy.

"Noah." Luke gently coaxed me with his voice, so that I would look at him. I fixed my attention to where he stood on my left, the corners of his eyes crinkled in conjunction with his smile. "It's okay." He reached up to smooth my hair back from my forehead, his thumb caressing my skin reassuringly.

I located my voice and swallowed. "I don't…I can't…" I couldn't even put a sentence together, how was I supposed to do this? "I've never done this before," I finally confessed to him dumbly.

Luke chuckled warmly again, his eyes sparkling. "I know," he said comfortingly. "But I'm right here, and I'll help you."

I stared at him.

"I'll help you," he repeated confidently. "You won't have to do this alone."

That was the first time I'd ever changed Matthew's diaper, on the first day we had brought him home. Luke and I were brand new fathers, and I was absolutely terrified, because this was completely uncharted territory for me. Luke was the experienced one and I was the undeniable, albeit eager, novice.

But Luke stood there with me and guided my hands gently, taught me what to do with ease. His motions were fluid and calming, and before I knew it, Matthew was happily nestled back in my arms, and Luke was grinning from ear to ear. He was proud of me, and I stood in front of him, holding that tiny bundle of blanket and heat, awash in Luke's sweet emotion.

It was because of Luke that Matthew had become my little buddy from that day forward; the silent little boy with sharp eyes and an even sharper brain was bonded to me because Luke had made it so, without even trying. Everything about Luke was natural and effortless, and I reveled in his calm as it tempered my storm, his serenity as it smoothed my rough edges.

When Lily re-entered Luke's room, she found me still in my spot, bent over in my chair, clutching his hand. I didn't try to hide the fact that I'd been crying – the salty tracks were slowly dying against my cheeks – but instead just kept my eyes fixed on Luke, where he lay stretched out before me, the blue hospital blanket neatly tucked around his waist.

Lily's hand came to rest on my shoulder. She stood quietly behind my chair, observing her son with me. I sniffed hard and clenched his fingers tighter. The memory of our first day with Matthew had completely taken me off-guard, and I wasn't able to speak at the moment. Lily seemed to understand.

After a few minutes, she bent and kissed my temple. "Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?" she whispered. "He needs your strength."

I nodded to her, our eyes briefly catching. She wiped her cheek sadly as a renegade tear fell, then turned from me and exited the room. The door closed softly behind her, and I placed Luke's limp hand against my cheek.

Lily had it backwards. It was I that needed his strength. I knew that I couldn't do any of this without him; I needed him back with me in order to get through this life we had built together.