Disclaimer: "Open Arms" is sung by Journey, although I was listening to a Clay Aiken version when writing this. This fanfic is based on a bit of fanfiction fluff that my friend Nan wrote.

Wanting You Near

The soft, tender strains of piano notes floated through the living room, their sorrowful sound seeming to drift into every darkened corner, including her heart.

Lying beside you here in the dark
Feeling your heartbeat with mine

The only light left was the dying remnants of a fire in the hearth before her. Such a gentle red-orange glow, unfurling just a few feet before itself. But it was enough. It saw the shadows in her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks, the glisten of teardrops that bled from a broken heart.

Softly you whisper, you're so sincere
How could our love be so blind?

A sweet, little bundle slept soundly in her arms, nestled within layers of fuzzy blue cotton and down. Tiny pink lips curved upward in a mysterious but contented smile, oblivious to the gloom all around. It was one small ray of warmth, offered from the depths of infant slumber.

We sailed on together
We drifted apart

Three deadly gunshots, all in a row.

So here you are by my side
So now I come to you with open arms
Nothing to hide,
Believe what I say

Ashley dimly remembered glimpsing the gunman leaning out of the car window, but the memory was overcast by much darker things. Andros had fallen against her when the bullets hit, bringing them both down to the sidewalk where his blood began to spread.

The 9-1-1 call, and then the sirens. She could feel her hysteria mounting when she saw him lying in the ambulance, surrounded by grim-faced paramedics.

He looked bloody and dead.

Here I am with open arms
Hoping you see what your love means to me
Open arms

The tapping at her door was soft and uncertain, as if it were afraid of intruding on her quiet mourning. Even so, Ashley unconsciously held her child closer as she went to look out the front curtains. What she saw brought fresh tears to her eyes, ones she couldn't be sure were born of anguish or of hope.

Living without you, living alone
This empty house is so cold

Standing on the porch was her heart, her soul—someone that had been no more than a frail dream for eleven months and six days.

Wanting to hold you, wanting you near
How much I wanted you home

Part of her wanted to defend the hard-won bit of healing she had done since their wretched parting. No matter how many nights she had dreamed that he inexplicably returned and made everything all right again…she couldn't go on like this. She needed something to push her those last few miles towards finding happiness again.

With a broken sigh, she drew herself away from the curtains, turning her back on her heart's tenderest wish.

But now that you've come back

The babe in her arms stirred within its warm nest, and then began to cry.

Turned night into day
I need you to stay

He merely stood there when she shakily opened the door, not wanting to alarm her or seem like a threat. She did not move either, and looked at him for the longest time. Unbridled tears shimmered in those beautiful eyes he had missed so much.

Perhaps he should have said something, or perhaps she should have, but her throat was too tight for words. If only she knew that he wanted her in his arms as much as she wanted to be in them, they might have been spared the few silent moments that nearly led to irreparable heartbreak.

So now I come to you with open arms…

Gathering his courage, he moved first. No words could have sufficed for such a precious moment, so he settled for a familiar gesture instead. He held his arms out to her.

Nothing to hide,
Believe what I say
Here I am with open arms
Hoping you see what your love means to me

There was no embrace like that of the one you love, and she had never expected to feel this embrace again. When his arms closed around her, she was reassured at last that he was real and not a dream, and she let her tears fall against the softness of his jacket.

They could have stood there forever; two hearts bereft of love warming and healing each other after far too much time apart. But a faint tickle against his chest made him draw back. He looked down curiously…and saw a tiny hand grasping the lapel of his coat.

Open arms…

A blanket had been spread out on the floor before the fireplace. On it, Andros and Ashley slept side by side, she fitting neatly in the curl of his arm as she rested her head upon his shoulder. His other arm he held gently but securely over his three-month-old daughter, who lay sleeping against his stomach. In each tiny hand, she scrunched a fistful of her proud father's shirt, each of which would eventually gravitate towards her little mouth.

At long last. After so many nights of dreaming that he would never get here, he was finally home. Home…a place where two of the most precious gifts a man could ever receive resided: the warm and tender arms of his true love, and a fair-sized drool mark from his beautiful baby girl…