REVISED: Trigger warning for birth/trauma

This chapter was demanded and begged for and threatened to get…so I hope it doesn't disappoint you! Its quite a large one, about 2 times the normal size. Theres a moment I wanted to cut it but….i decided not to…..because of my love for you! Especially those of you that review!

Ok have at it!

She had no idea what to expect. The doctors and the nurses talked to her and about her to Tom. She floated through the lobby, not really taking anything in. She recalled seeing her sisters, her parents, her friends, all with the same sad look as she was wheeled past the reception desk and into the maternity ward. They wanted to try to induce her since she was far enough along that the baby would probably survive. She was hooked up to an I-V for four long hours, nurses coming in to check her "progress" or lack thereof. It seemed the baby was just as stubborn as it's parents, refusing to budge and inch, and Sybil couldn't disagree. It was safe inside. Outside was unknown.

Doctor Anna had arrived, poking and touching, checking all the sensors and equipment. It seemed they had to move onto option two. Tom stayed the entire time, letting Sybil squeeze her hand and whispering encouragement when the needle entered her spine. It started out like a pinch and then a pressure like being struck in the center of her back and travelling down her legs. She had her eyes closed so tightly that she didn't even realize it was over until she felt Tom wiping the tears from her face and gently guiding her to lie back against the soft pillows. Sybil was so tired. The stress of the day and the anticipation of what was to come combined with the warm numbing feeling travelling throughout the lower half of her body made it hard to keep her eyes opened. With one last glance at Tom's tense face Sybil gave into the pull and drifted off to blissful unconsciousness.

He didn't know what else to do. There really was nothing for him to do. He was staring unblinkingly at her hand, a clear tube protruding painfully from her soft skin. He was attempting to avoid the pitying looks the nurses and doctors kept sending him. He had been so worried since they got the call. He had been dashing around, in constant motion to avoid facing the reality of situation, but now that there was nothing for him to do but sit and wait Tom found himself at a total loss. Sybil was out of it. She had been given some type of drug that knocked her out, numbed her body and she lay blissfully unaware. Tom was envious of her in this moment. He was being driven crazy by his own thoughts. They kept spinning around his head, all the possibilities and eventual outcomes. A majority of them ended in pain and heartbreak. The most probable scenario ended with only one of them making it out alive. He was greedy and ungrateful in the weeks and months leading up to this moment, taking for granted the assumption he would get to love Sybil for years to come and have the opportunity to know his child. Now, he could have only one or possibly neither.

The need to touch her was overwhelming. Reaching out Tom gently lifted her lifeless hand from the sterile white sheet she lay on. It was strange, touching her when she was unaware and unresponsive. Tom wanted her to squeeze back, to tell him everything was going to be ok, to tease him about the gender of their baby. He had to resign himself to silence, until the moment when his future would be decided for him. The moment was coming when he might have to make the biggest decision of his life and the only person he wanted to talk to was the one person he couldn't.

The doctor had explained in agonizing detail what was going to happen. They had to deliver the baby as soon as possible and since attempting to induce her had failed, they had to surgically intervene. It meant that Sybil would be exposed, open on an operating table while the doctors pulled his daughter from her flesh. It was risky, since Sybil could begin to seize the moment the child was delivered. There was a possibility she would not make it. They were fairly confident, they said, that the child would be perfectly fine. If they didn't operate and instead waited for Sybil to deliver naturally, then she most certainly would die, probably seizing before delivering, suffocating the baby and he would lose them both.

He could have neither, or one, but probably not both. It was terrifying. Tom couldn't breathe. He struggled to keep it together but found himself breaking from the inside. His whole world seemed to tilt, balanced on the edge of a knife and he was scrambling to make sense of it. A hand suddenly grasped his shoulder. Tom welcomed the strength in Thomas's grip. It was stabilizing, grounding as his world was going up in flames. He had been strong all day, sitting patiently beside Sybil as she was checked and hooked up to machines and people filtered in and out of her room. He sat unmoving, not eating the snacks Gwen had brought in, not sleeping in the last twenty or so hours, not talking to anyone except to answer questions and whisper soothing words to Sybil when she got that sad and panicky look in her eyes. He tried to be strong enough for the both of them, he needed to be. But now that Sybil was sleeping as peacefully as was possible at this point, he could give himself a moment of weakness.

The tears threatened to spill over and Tom could taste blood from biting his lip so hard, trying to hold it all in. Thomas registered Tom's tense posture and turned him, forcing him into a bone crushing hug that Tom struggled at first to get out of. It was too much, he couldn't feel this much, it was too painful. Thomas wouldn't let go, not matter how hard Tom tried to shove him back.

"Mate, it's alright, it's going to be alright." His voice, calming and deep rumbled through his chest into Tom.

"It's not. It's never going to be alright again after today." Tom replied, the fight going out of him as he finally gave voice to his doubts and worries. The tears streamed down his face, wetting Thomas's shirt as he rested his face against his best friend's shoulder.

"Don't talk like that. What did you say to me when my Dad died? What did you say Tom?" Thomas asked, making Tom sob harder as he pictured Sybil dead, lying just as Thomas's father had, motionless against the sterile white hospital linens.

"I…you…"Tom tried to choke out the words but couldn't makes sense of anything. His mind was a jumbled mess, images of dead bodies, tiny caskets, lonely nights spent drinking until he passed out. He was awash in despair and felt himself giving in to it. Thomas spoke into Tom's ear, firm and in control although his voice had begun to waver at the beginning, "You told me….that when someone leaves us, it's not because they didn't want to stay. We have to continue our lives, we have to live, because without life, death means nothing. You have lived with her and if you must you will live without her," Tom clutched at Thomas's back, hands gripping for some kind of life-line to anchor himself against the storm of pain that was wreaking havoc on his entire being at those words.

"Tom, listen to me! I know this is the hardest thing you will probably ever have to go through but you are not alone. We are all here for you, for all three of you. You are all loved and no matter what happens we will all be out there, until the end." Tom had calmed listening to Thomas's speech. He was right. No matter what happened, he had to stay strong. He couldn't let himself break yet. It wasn't over yet. It wasn't the end yet.

"I can't lose her." Tom whispered into Thomas's shoulder.

"You won't lose her. She will be with you always." Thomas said, patting Tom on the back gently as Tom breathed heavily, getting himself a little more under control.

"Tom?" Tom wiped his eyes roughly before turning to the sounds of Sybil's sleepy and confused voice.

Thomas gave him one last squeeze before he gave Tom a moment to compose himself, kindly blocking Tom from Sybil's view. "Well, having a lie about, are we?" Thomas joked. Hearing Sybil's husky laughed almost brought forth the tears once more but Tom was determined to not let it overtake him again.

"I think I'm entitled to it! I feel like a stuffed goose, being poked and prodded all day." Sybil said shuffling the sheets around as she struggled to sit up. Tom, feeling a bit stronger, walked back over towards the bed, brushing the wild curls back from her face as she gazed up at him. Whatever they had given her, he was thankful for it. She had been so scared, so unsure of the whole thing that it was making him crazy trying to absorb all of her pain and suffering. He felt like he could just be, sitting next to his best friend while the love of his life lay waiting for the doctors to come in and announce that they were ready.

Sybil felt light and strange. She felt like she was floating outside of her body. She could barely feel anything, her lower half completely numb. It was unsettling when she had felt the constant weight of the baby inside of her for the past few months, to have it all suddenly disappear. Her brain had shut down, a lot like it used to when she got panic attacks, forcing her mind to stop thinking, sinking into hysterics or numbness. She was numb now, body and mind. Things were happening around her, to her, but not with her. Tom was there. He was always there. Her Tom. He was lovely. He was strong, so strong. Good. He needed to be strong. He was going to have to be much stronger, after. She had to tell him how much she loved him. She opened her mouth but found her brain blocking her. Thomas had been there, he was so funny. Such a good friend to Tom. He would need good friends after.

The nurses came in. They were saying things to her but all Sybil could think about was Tom. How hard this was going to be on him. She knew what was going to happen and it was going to be bad, how could it not? As soon as the baby was pulled out of her, her body would start to shut down. That is what Anna had said. Shut down. She had no control over anything after that. At least the baby had a good chance of making it out healthy and whole. The baby.

"Tom?" Sybil croaked out. Needing to talk to him before they wheeled her bed into the operating room. One nurse was checking her I-V tube while the other was releasing some mechanical thing behind her. Tom was standing back, allowing them to prep her without getting in the way.

"Yes, love?" Tom was there, always there. Calming and strong, his hands like comforting pillows, wrapping hands in love.

"nnname." Sybil slurred, her mind struggling to keep focused as her body threatened to drift again.

"What name?"

"mmmmbaby. We need to name th-the baby." It was really important. She needed to know the name so she could watch them, from wherever she went.

"Sybil, my darling, we don't need to decide now." Tom sounded sad. She hated it when he sounded sad. He should always be happy. She knew how to make him happy.

"Our daughter. She needs a name." Sybil smiled, hearing Tom's wet laugh. She had teased him over the past few months, never agreeing that the baby was a girl simply because of his strange Irish intuition.

"Oh, aye? Does she? Well, what do you think then?" Tom was petting her hair back, just like she liked when they were laying together wrapped up after making love. She loved him so much.

"You already have one, don't you?" Sybil accused him. She had found him with a baby names book a few weeks ago, a girl's edition. She had laughed, teasing him that he would be sorry when their little boy came out and had to walk around explaining why "Claire was so a boy's name!".

He looked down at her, that flirty grin in place as he teased her. "Well….I don't have one, no. But I have a few suggestions. What about…Gertrude?" Sybil made a grimace, communicating her displeasure. It sounded so old.

"Hmmm ok then…what about….Millicent?" Sybil gave him the death stare. Something about that name rang sinister in Sybil's mind.

"Alright! Last one then….Amelia?" That one wasn't so bad….something about it seemed familiar but Sybil couldn't place it. It sounded strong. Sybil needed their baby to be strong, so Tom wouldn't be alone.

"Amelia. Hmmm I think I like that." Sybil hummed, trying to stay focused, stay awake. Tom's fingers felt heavenly, sifting through her hair, occasionally scratching and stroking one spot or another.

She had fallen asleep again. Tom sighed as the nurses finished their work and began to wheel Sybil out of the room. He stayed next to her, holding her limp hand as they made their way through the stark white hallways into a round room. Bright lights and shiny metal greeted Tom as a nurse approached him, handing him a pair of scrubs and pointing to a room at the far end to change. It was a lot like preparing for a battle. Tom had recently done an article on uniforms and the psychology behind dressing and preparing for battle. Putting on a particular uniform, one meant for rough terrain and camouflage, say, the wearer would describe connecting into the mental state of the clothing, whole body shifting to become more aware of surroundings, dangers. The same with the formal dress, you stood taller, spoke better. It all had to do with what you wore on the outside to prepare the mind for what was about to come. Tom dressed with that in mind. Discarding his own clothing and shrugging into the medical scrubs with an air of preparing for battle. It was a battle, he thought, one he would be fighting right alongside Sybil. He wouldn't let her be taken without a fight, that was for damn sure.

A man stood beside Sybil, placing a mask over her mouth as the lights burned brighter and staff shuffled around, each person with a job to do. He had a job as well. Grabbing the rolling stool placed next to Sybil's head Tom sat and took up position, ready and waiting for everything to begin. A blue drape was pinned from Sybil's covered breasts to hang about three feet high, blocking their view.

"Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Branson, it's time to meet your baby." The doctor called to them, reading off of their chart, fake excitement evident in his voice.

Sybil was trying to speak but the man holding the oxygen mask over her face wouldn't move. Tom knew his role now, it was to be there for Sybil.

"What is it love?" Tom asked, pushing the mask back to let Sybil speak before they began.

"No, Doctor, were not married yet! He's the father though! You have to know that! He gets her!" Sybil called to the doctor, who stopped fiddling with the scalpels to lean over the drape.

"No need to worry, dear. Everything's going to be fine. Erm…Mr. Branson? Perhaps you'd lie to step over her for just a moment?" Tom didn't like the tone in the doctor's voice.

"I'll be right back, love." Tom said, kissing Sybil's brow before moving around the table towards the doctor.

"Mr. Branson, this is…difficult. This will not be like you see on television. Once the baby is removed we have very little options to stop the seizures if they begin. We will try everything we can but the best thing you can do now is to keep her calm, keep her focused. Don't allow her mind to wander. Keep her talking. I need you to let me know if you see any of those signs Doctor Smith told you about. Can you do that?" Tom nodded, ice creeping up his spine. It was about to begin and the anticipation was vibrating through his entire being. Walking slowly back to his seat Tom's mind raced, trying to think of things to keep Sybil calm, to keep her focused.

The sound of sheets rustling and metal clinking brought the sense of dread back and Tom tried to think of things to say, to keep Sybil distracted from what was happening.

The man with the mask had left it off for the time being, carefully monitoring the beeps and graphs on his machine and waiting for some unseen moment when he would need to administer it again. For now, Sybil was free to speak and her words alarmed him.

"Lie back, Tom. Look at the stars." She mumbled. "They're so bright out here, away from the city."

She was staring up at the ceiling. Tom was confused, but also alarmed. This was one of the signs Doctor Anna had told him to look out for.

"Do remember the stars, my love? Do you remember our first date? Outside, lying on that blanket, the stars bright and shining." Tom needed to keep her talking, keep her rooted in the present moment.

"Mmm? Oh yes…you want me don't you?" The oxygen man coughed, shooting Tom a scandalized look.

Rolling his eyes Tom thought the situation absurd. "Um…Doctor? I think…the hallucinations have started!" Tom called to the man behind the drape, hoping that didn't mean what he thought it meant.

"Right. We've got to get it out." The doctor spoke to the nurses standing by. Tom heard a strange sound, like meat being cut and a gush of fluid. Looking down at Sybil, Tom tried to stay strong. Her face contorted in pan as she felt the pressure of hands reaching inside of her. Tom spoke to her, nonsense mostly, floating in and out of English as his mind raced for things to say. Everything he ever wanted to say to her. He told her about home, about Ireland. He painted their future together, the three of them. Sybil didn't speak, only stared entranced as Tom tried to transport them to another time and place.

It happened quicker than Tom thought it would. One moment he was speaking to Sybil and the next a soft mewling wail broke through his focus. The sound brought Tom's attention over the drape. There she was.

"There she is!" The doctor called over to them, the same haunting cheeriness in his voice as before.

She disappeared from view as she was taken by one of the nurses for cleaning. She was tiny, her hands and feet reaching out as she struggled for the warmth she had just been nestled inside. Sybil was smiling, gripping his hand as she turned her head to watch their daughter being wiped clean on a table a few feet away.

He felt the pull to go to her, to see her, she was real, here finally. He looked down at Sybil, her eyes were bright, no longer blank and sleepy. Whatever strangeness had gripped her earlier was over, it appeared. Bending down, Tom kissed her lips, tasting his own tears as she laughed, her lips sliding against his own.

"Go, Tom. Go to her." Sybil urged him. He didn't want to leave Sybil, the doctors were still bent over her, stitching and wiping and depositing large bloody rags onto the table. Tom couldn't spare more than a passing glance, not wanting to frighten Sybil with his reaction.

"Just for a moment. I'll be right back. You'll be alright?" Tom asked, hearing his daughter cry out at being moved and poked by the nurses. He had to see her face again. It was a need that he had only ever experienced with Sybil, but different somehow.

"I'm not likely to go anywhere, am I?" Sybil teased.

Tom almost skipped to the little table where a nurse was finishing wrapping the baby in a soft pink blanket. A little beanie was placed on her tiny head as she was quieted, warm and snug once more. The nurse looked at Tom and asked, "Would you like to hold her?" Tom couldn't answer. He managed a stiff nod before the baby was placed into his awkward arms. He had held Aiden countless times, comfortable with him in his arms, but something was different. This was his child, Sybil's child, the child they had made together.

She was soft, and so fragile. Tom cradled her to his chest, staring at his nose and Sybil's lips. She was beautiful, perfect in every way. Just as he bent to kiss her tiny forehead Tom heard the doctor call out.

"She's seizing!" Tom's heart stopped. It was happening. Tucking the baby close to him Tom rushed to Sybil. The oxygen man was attempting to place the mask over her mouth but she was thrashing violently. A nurse appeared at Tom's side, taking the baby from him. He heard her cry out at being jostled but he had to focus on Sybil now.

"My darling, shh, darling, please." Tom begged as he tried to keep her head still so that the man could keep the mask firmly in place, delivering oxygen to her. The doctors were all moving quickly, instruments flying and syringes being handed over each other.

She seemed to still, something they had done making her stop thrashing against the table. Tom released the breath he had been holding, taking a moment to rid himself of the fear that had gripped him as he sat helpless. Looking back to her face Tom noticed her skin pale, graying slowly as the man with the mask was calling to one of the nurses. Tom couldn't hear anything around him. Everything stopped, Sybil stopped. She couldn't breathe.

"Help her! She can't breathe!" Tom yelled, his voice hoarse as he struggled to think what to do. The doctors were working as best they could but unless Sybil could breathe, their efforts were for naught.

"C'mon my darling. Breathe. That's it, love. You just have to breathe. C'mon, love." Tom was choking, tears streaming down his face as he begged her to stay, begged her to fight.

The man with the mask was pushed aside as another man stepped in, a long clear tube and metallic instrument in his hand as he tilted Sybil's head back and shoved the instrument down her open mouth. The tube came next and Sybil began to thrash once more as Tom slid to the floor, head bent over the hand as he pleaded with all the gods he knew of to not take her from him. Not yet.

He gripped her hand, feeling it limp and lifeless in his hand as people rushed and ran around him. Everything moved in slow motion. It was actually happening. Tom knew it was a possibility but he never thought seriously that she would be taken from him.

Everything calmed, the rushing slowed and the doctors moved around the room, taking off their gloves and masks as they disrobed and exited the room. Tom couldn't look up the floor. He heard a soft cry echo from across the room and broke. They were alone after all. He was all that little girl had now.

He was sobbing so hard that he first assumed it was his own body shaking the table when he felt a gentle stirring against his hand. Sniffling back, Tom scramble to his feet, staring down at Sybil, her eyes opened wide as she stared widely around her, searching for something. "Best not to talk just now, dear." The doctor said as he cleaned up his tools and another team of nurses came in to clean up the mess.

"She…she's alright?" Tom asked, reaching across to grip the man's arm to stop him from leaving without giving Tom some sort of answer.

"She's stable, for now, but she needs to be monitored, and sedated until we can assess the damage done during surgery. For now though, yes she's alright." The man said with a polite smile, amused by Tom's intense reaction. Tom didn't care. She was stable. That was good. That was alright.

Sybil's hand reached towards him. Tom grabbed it, kissing her knuckles, shaking and alive clasped between both of his much larger hands.

"You're going to be fine. Do you hear me? Everything is going to be just fine." Sybil struggled against the tube in her throat and Tom placed a hand against her hairline, shushing her as he answered the question he knew she was asking.

"She's alright. We have a daughter. And she's bloody perfect, Syb. Absolutely perfect, just like her mother." Tom said, smiling widely as the realization of his words reached inside of him to that moment he held his daughter. That instant connection and love he felt holding her.

Sybil was trying to say something, struggling to get out one word. Tom stared at her in confusion before realizing what she was trying to say.

"I understand, love. Amelia." Tom said, his face as close to hers as was possible with all the tubes. She nodded once before sighing and laying back against the pillow. The fight gone out her as she was pulled in unconsciousness. Tom had a moment of panic but the doctor who rushed in at the last moment was still there, reassuring Tom that it was ok, perfectly normal. Her stats were good. They would move her into recovery for now and continue to monitor her.

Tom stood back as they wheeled her away. The same nurse as before appeared and handed him back his daughter. His Amelia. She truly was lovely. As perfect as he had told Sybil she was. Tom stood, cradling his daughter as her mother was taken through the doors and down the hallway where she would recover, and come back to them.

*ahh! Ok please don't hate me! I hope this wasn't too much for you guys…although this whole story has been a bit of a rollercoaster…I envisioned this scene from the very start and I hope it turned out and you all don't hate me too much!(I had planned on leaving it to hang right after the birth before she woke up again but….I didn't want knives and pitchforks! I hope you guys know how much I care about you that I didn't want to leave you hanging like that!)

Let me know what you thought!