She collapsed back onto a mound of pillows. Sweat dampened her skin and curled the hair along her forehead. She had never felt anything like the pain she had just been through, never thought pain like that could exist. Her breathing was still shaky and too fast and her entire body felt like one giant bruise.

But she couldn't stop smiling.

From the other side of the room, Teresa could hear her son crying. She could hear the nurse as she cooed at him and talked in that baby voice. Turning her head, she watched as the nurse carried her little boy over to her. She was so tired, but somehow her arms still lifted when the nurse got close enough. She carefully took her baby and pulled him to her chest. Then the rest of the world melted away.

He was so small. She had never seen anything so tiny and perfect. She took the little mitt off of his left hand and kissed five tiny fingers. Then she took the mitt off of is right hand and did the same thing. His head was full of the softest dark curls, curls that reminded her of his father. He was perfect.

A warm hand landed on her shoulder and Teresa leaned into the touch. She couldn't take her eyes off her baby, but she turned her head to smile at James. He had been amazing. She had always known that Guero would freak out if they had kids- the whole pregnancy he would be too fussy. And she knew he would lose it when she went into labor. But James was perfect.

James was calm, and collected like always, if a little more protective than usual. He made sure she was taking care of herself without being overbearing. And when she went into labor he was the same. She hadn't worried for one second because he was there and he was calm and if James was calm then everything was happening the way it should be.

He had held her hand when she needed him to. He had stood on the other side of the room- out of the way- when she needed space. Quiet, strong- there for her. In whatever way she needed him- he was always there. She loved him for it. For that and a million other things. And now their baby was here and she loved him even more. She couldn't believe it. They had made this little person. And she loved this baby more than anything in this world.

James pressed a kiss to her damp hair, "He needs a name."

She watched her son as he yawned widely, little mouth a perfect oval. They had talked about names. Had made a list of their top five. But she couldn't think of any of them right then. She was so taken with this little boy. James moved around to sit on the bed next to her. He reached over and gently put the mitts back on the baby's hands, pulling his blanket a little closer under his chin. It was the most precious thing Teresa had ever seen. This hard, dangerous man being so soft with this tiny helpless child.

She took James' hand in hers and squeezed. Their joined hands rested on the baby' stomach softly. "What do you want to call him?" She knew what he would say- he'd tell her it was her choice. But she wanted this to be something they chose together. They were in this together- the three of them. Her family.

But he surprised her. He carefully took the baby out of her arms and cradled him to his chest instead. He looked so natural with a baby in his arms. And she watched something change in him- some shift. James was suddenly both softer and more dangerous as he held his son. The love he felt for his little boy was more than obvious, but there was something darker beneath the joy- a protectiveness that Teresa had never seen before.

"There was a guy- in Afghanistan. Name was Ricky." Teresa watched James closely. He didn't talk about Afghanistan. He didn't talk about his past at all. "He said if he made it home he wanted to find a girl and settle down. Said he'd name his kid Miguel if it was a boy." James ran his finger down the baby's cheek slowly. "He never made it home."

There was more to the story. She could feel it. But she didn't ask- she just nodded. "I like Miguel. It's a good name. Miguel Santiago Valdez." James looked at her for a long time. There was something in his eyes- something she couldn't name. He slowly shook his head, eyes going back to the infant in his arms.

"Not Santiago. I don't want him to be called James."

She didn't fight him. She could understand that. She wouldn't want her daughter to have her name either- too much blood on it. She thought of the men she cared about most- Tony, Pote, Charger, George and Boaz. She thought about her abuelo and her Tio Mateo…Her father. "Cristobal." James looked up and she knew he could see how much this name meant to her- even if he didn't know why. He didn't say anything, but she knew. Their son had a name. One that meant something to them both.

Standing up, James took Miguel to the bassinet and laid him down. He was so careful, but he wasn't nervous or scared. She watched as he rolled the bassinet over so that it was beside her- she wouldn't have to reach to pick up the baby. Reaching into his pocket James pulled out a band of some kind. It was small and metal, but that was all Teresa could see.

He leaned down and whispered something to Miguel and Teresa felt her heart stop. Something was wrong. He was tense now, and even though she couldn't hear the words, she heard James' tone. It reminded her of the night she decided to leave Camila after Chicago. How he had wanted to make things better, but knew he couldn't. His hands fiddled with the baby's blanket then he put the band on Miguel's little wrist. Panic was rising and she didn't know why. She didn't understand what was going on.

"James…" He pressed another kiss to Miguel's forehead. Then another on his cheek. Finally he straightened and turned to her. "No." She shook her head, trying to be forceful. But he just looked at her with those dark eyes. "James, no. Whatever you're planning- don't." But he just smiled at her sadly.

Her throat felt tight and her eyes stung. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft. It was too soft. And it was…sad. Like he was broken and he needed her to put him back together. "I love you Teresa," he whispered, lips brushing against hers gently. She gasped into the kiss before he deepened it, tilting her head up just so. He had never said that before. He had traced it on her skin after they made love. He had shown her with his actions every day for a while now. But he had never said it.

The tears she had been fighting fell.

She didn't want this. Whatever this was- she didn't want it. She didn't want the thing that made him this sad. She didn't want his first 'I love you' to be seeped in some emotion she didn't understand. Her hands came up to grab the sides of his jacket- trying to hold him there, bring him closer. They were both breathing hard, his hand sliding into her damp curls and she gripped him tighter. "James," she whimpered as salt touched her lips.

"I love you. And I will do whatever it takes to protect you. Both of you."

Then he pulled back. His hands gently took hers from his jacket, kissing each one before placing them in her lap. He brushed a curl back from her forehead. Then he turned and walked out of the room. She stared at the door as she tried to calm her breathing-tried to understand. But it didn't open again- he didn't come back. She waited and waited. Pote came. Tony came. George and Javier. Boaz and Charger.

But not James.

She finally looked at the band he had put on Miguel. She had kept it covered with the blanket while she held him. She didn't want the others to see. It wasn't for them. But she had been alone with Miguel for a while now. She couldn't wait anymore. And she needed to know. She needed to feel something good. Something other than hurt and confusion.

It was a bracelet. Two thin, flat metal bands . It was on an adjustable metal chain- something Miguel could grow with. Teresa smiled at that. Then the smile faded as she realized what it meant. James wouldn't be back in a day or two- or even a month. Her eyes burned again as she held her son closer. She took a deep breath- then another. Finally she focused on the words engraved on the band.

I love you, Little Man. Always. Dad.

She gently turned the band over to the other side.

I'll come back to you.