Based on Robin #65, what happened when Tim met Steph's baby for the first time.

I don't own anything!

Tim sat in one of the hospital's many uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting room, fidgeting with constant worry. Stephanie had gone in for her c-section over an hour ago, and they hadn't heard anything since. He doesn't like that all he could do was wait. Waiting was not something he was good at, especially if it meant having no idea whether or not his girlfriend and her baby were alright. He'd made brief conversation with her mother, but she still didn't particularly like "Alvin Draper" too much.

Tim was still clad in his hospital scrubs, not planning on leaving even for a second until he knew Stephanie was okay. He bounced his knee anxiously, his eyes not leaving the door. He didn't like this. Waiting. It would have been better if he were allowed in the O.R. with her. What if something went wrong without him knowing? He wanted desperately to be with her, even if he only stood by in the background. He couldn't just sit by helpless. He needed to be doing something. Even if it didn't help, he needed something to occupy his mind and keep him from imaging every scenario that ended with Steph dead or her baby dead or-.

Then, as if answering his silent prayers, the double doors finally opened to reveal a smiling nurse holding a small bundle in her arms.

Tim stood up immediately, his eyes fixed on the nurse. "What happened? Is Steph okay? Where is she?"

The nurse cleared her throat to cease his rambling. He stopped abruptly, just then noticing that Stephanie's mother was next to him also awaiting news. The nurse grinned reassuringly and said, "She is doing fine. There were a few complications, but we were easily able to fix the problem and now she's sleeping in her room. She'll likely be out for a while from the anesthesia." She looked down at the baby in her arms, wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket. "Its a girl. Six pounds and eight ounces, both she and the mother are doing great. You can go see Stephanie if you want, she should be resting in her room."

Mrs. Brown thanked the nurse before hurrying to her daughter's room. The nurse started towards the nursery.

Tim was relieved beyond belief, so happy that Steph was alright. He wanted to go to Steph's room with Mrs. Brown, but that probably wasn't the greatest idea. Steph would want her mother. He was just grateful to know that she was safe and he could go visit her in a few hours after she woke up. He wondered if she would want to see her baby. Her baby... It was a girl, right? That's what the nurse had told him. He hadn't even thought about the baby until this moment, far too focused on Steph's well-being. But now that Steph was alright he couldn't help his curiosity. He wondered what she looked like. What color eyes she had, if she looked like Steph... "Wait", he said hesitantly. The nurse paused in her brisk walk and turned around expectantly.

Tim looked at his shoes for a moment, knowing that this would probably be a bad idea, but for some reason he just couldn't help himself. "Can-... Could I hold her?" The nurse smiled at him and nodded, bringing the baby over and placing her gently into his awaiting arms.

It was awkward at first. He'd never held a baby before that moment and was scared he would drop her, but he soon found it easy, almost like a reflex. As though his arms knew exactly how to hold her the right way, supporting her head and at the same time being feather-light, being careful not to jostle her sleeping form. He didn't know why, but it felt right holding Stephanie's baby. He looked down at the cherubic pink face in wonder. She looked just like Steph, he thought. On top of her head was a small tuft of pale hair, which he lightly stroked with his thumb. Her nose and cheekbones looked like a tiny version of Stephanie's, copied perfectly into her small face. He never knew what the father had looked like but could imagine that some features were probably his too. He couldn't tear his eyes away, completely and totally hypnotized by the angelic features. He inhaled deeply; she had that sweet distinct baby smell. "What will happen to her?", he asked, still not looking up. .

The nurse sighed. "She will be adopted in a few days, most likely from the next couple in line at the adoption agency if the mother doesn't change her mind. Are you the father?"

Tim chuckled softly. "No, I'm just a friend", he breathed.

He sat down in the chair he'd been waiting in earlier, not seeing the nurse leave. He was too mesmerized to notice anything else. He couldn't understand how something so perfect and gentle could exist. He'd been through a lot in his life, seen horrible things that now were just a normal part of his lifestyle as a vigilante. He'd experienced his fair share of pain, of grief, of hate... And yet when staring down at this tiny face, he couldn't even remember anything else in the world.

A small voice in his head kept telling him that this was a bad idea. There was a reason Steph had not planned on seeing her baby. Getting too attached would just make it harder in the end. He wasn't even the father; he shouldn't care this much, should he? This baby wasn't even his, and yet he felt like he'd do anything to protect her.

The newborn let out a small squeaking yawn, opening her mouth into a little "O" shape. He smiled softly at the sound. Then ever so slowly, she opened her tiny eyes to reveal small blue orbs, almost the exact shade that Steph's were. She looked up at Tim, starting to fuss a little. He smoothly rocked her back and forth rhythmically, as though this weren't the first time he'd ever held a baby. He began humming a soft tune, and she little by little calmed down, blinking at him tiredly.

Less than five minutes of holding the infant and already Tim felt like he'd been doing it forever. It came to him naturally, like his arms were created specifically for the purpose of holding this small bundle of perfection. He never wanted to let go, for he knew that once he did he would likely never see her again.

He remembered earlier conversations he'd had with Steph. He recalled himself telling her she should do the right thing and give her child the chance to have parents who loved her. But... Steph loved her, didn't she? For nine months he'd heard Steph say again and again that all she wanted was for her child to be somewhere where she could be happy. She clearly cared about her daughter. And Tim...

Tim didn't know how he felt. He had no biological connection to this baby. He wasn't the father, he wasn't anything. But at the same time he felt almost like he was-... No. He wasn't. He wasn't the father- that was some other deadbeat's job. He was just the supportive boyfriend. That was all. Or was it? At this point he didn't know about anything anymore.

Even as the minutes ticked by and he still had his blue eyes transfixed on the baby, he couldn't feel anything but joy, happiness, and an overwhelming need to protect. He knew what was supposed to happen. Steph would be free to leave the hospital in a few days and when she did the baby would not be going with her. She would get adopted by another loving couple who could provide her with the things she needed to have a good life. What did Tim and Steph have? Nothing. They couldn't give this baby what she needs. They're just kids in way over their heads. Giving her up is the right thing to do, no matter who you ask. But if Stephanie wanted to keep her, let her be raised by Steph and her mom like she'd said, would he agree with her?

No. No, that wouldn't be the right thing. Tim shouldn't even be thinking about this. This wasn't his decision, he wasn't even a real part of the situation. This wasn't about him or his feelings; it was about Steph and her baby, that was it. He couldn't let Steph keep her, not if she would be doomed to a life with a vigilante mother and an evil supervillain for a grandfather. She would do the right thing, knowing in her heart that it was the best choice in the end. And Tim would let her, putting his own emotions aside. He would be strong for Steph, reassuring her every step along the way that she made the right choice.

But that doesn't mean it won't hurt.

Tim's heart at once ached at the thought of the inevitable. He wished he could just pause everything, to force the world to give him the time he needed, though no time he was allowed would ever be enough. From an outside perspective it didn't make much sense. He couldn't be growing so attached to this child whom he's met only now and has no biological relation to. He has no actual connection with her, but it felt like he did.

Over the months as Stephanie's pregnancy advanced he'd been there. He'd helped her combat morning sickness, he'd listened to her complain about her size, he'd taken her to Lamaze classes. He'd been there the whole time, even accompanying her to the occasional ultrasound. He'd been there with her to see the small black and white images of the baby growing as the weeks went on. He'd tried to stay distant, focusing only on Stephanie and not the baby. But he'd somehow formed an unbreakable connection to this child, no matter how hard he'd tried not to.

Tim didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, effortlessly cradling the little miracle like she was the most precious thing in the world, and maybe she was. But all sweet things have to end eventually. He would have to leave, unless he planned on his secret identity being discovered by Steph. He gazed at the baby's face one last time, cataloguing every little detail until they were imprinted on his brain. He didn't want to let go, but he knew he would have to.

If Steph went through with the adoption he would never see this child again. But if she decided to keep her... No. Don't think about that. Letting her go is the right thing to do. Whatever Steph chooses, he will not try convincing her otherwise, no matter how much he wanted to.

The nurse returned then, having likely been waiting in the wings while Tim was in his trance. He tore his eyes away from Steph's daughter for the first time since he'd been holding her, blinking as if waking up from a dream.

"Would you like me to take her to the nursery now?", she asked kindly.

Tim nodded silently, not trusting his own voice because he knew he would have said no if he spoke. He would have never let go if given the option. So he watched numbly as the woman carefully lifted the baby up from his arms, the sudden coldness feeling harsh and alien to him. The second she was gone from his grasp he wanted desperately to reach out and take her back, never releasing her again. But all he could do was watch with pained eyes as she was taken away, staring until long after they disappeared around the corner.

He shouldn't feel sad. The baby was going to go to someone who would love her. Her adoptive parents would be good people who could give her everything that Steph and Tim couldn't. He knew deep somewhere in the recesses of his mind that this was the right thing to do. He would likely never see her again, but it would all be for the best. Maybe not the best for Tim, who felt like he was breaking apart, but at least it would be the best thing for her. She wouldn't have to live a life with a fifteen year-old single mother who doubled as a vigilante. She could be normal. She could be happy. It was just a matter of letting go.

He needed to leave. He needed to be ready for Steph when she woke up, to comfort her and inform her on her daughter's condition. He wouldn't say anything. Not about how great he felt when he held her, not about how she wrinkled her nose while she slept, not about how much his heart hurt when she went away. He would be indifferent, only caring about Steph and being there for her. It was better that way, wasn't it? It would make it easier for Steph to let go if she weren't preoccupied with Tim's feelings. He could deal with his own feelings. He was good at hiding pain and would be able to agree with what Steph decided, which would no doubt be going through with the adoption. He didn't matter in this situation. All he needed to do was help Steph make the right choice and be there for her afterwards, that was it.

He sat for a few more minutes, eventually getting up slowly and walking out of the room, pretending as though his heart wasn't breaking apart, piece by painful piece.