Elizabeth
It was quiet.
But not peaceful.
My body felt like it was floating somewhere between fire and ice. Numb and aching. Heavy, but light. My mind drifted like a feather on a storm — catching glimpses, sounds, touches — but never landing for long.
I heard voices.
Soft at first. Like underwater echoes.
“She’s stable. She just needs time.”
A woman. A nurse maybe. Or a doctor. I couldn’t tell.
Then…
“Noah hasn’t left her side.”
That one I recognized.
Lillian.
I tried to open my eyes, to say something — anything — but my body didn’t listen.
“Of course he hasn’t,” Mary’s voice joined, soft and wry. “He’s too in love to breathe properly without her.”
There was a low chuckle — Liam, maybe. Or Adonis.
But then—
“Please, baby… just come back to me.”
Noah.
His voice.
Rough. Sleep-deprived. Cracking in places that broke me even in the fog.
I felt something warm on my hand. Gentle. Anchoring.
“Every minute without you has felt like hell. You’ve already been through enough… you don’t owe me anything, just—just wake up. Please.”
My heart tried to respond. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to scream his name. But all I could manage was a tiny twitch of my fingers.
Still, something shifted.
A whisper of light pulled at the corners of my eyes.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The blur started to clear. White ceiling tiles. The low beep of a monitor. The sterile chill of the hospital air.
And then—
Him.
Noah.
He was slumped in a chair beside my bed, his head resting against my arm, his dark hair a tangled mess, eyes shut, mouth barely moving as he whispered something only I could hear.
I didn’t say anything at first. I just watched him.
Even broken, he was beautiful.
Even exhausted, he looked like home.
But then a sharp pain flared in my side and I winced—too hard.
I gasped softly.
Noah jolted upright, eyes wide. His gaze locked on mine like he wasn’t sure if it was real.
“Liz…?” he said, breathless.
I tried to speak, but my throat was raw. So instead, I smiled — small and tired, but real.
He leaned forward so fast the chair screeched back.
“You’re awake. Oh my God, you’re awake.”
He looked like he was about to fall apart — crying and laughing and shaking all at once.
I opened my mouth, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hi…”
He let out a breath like he’d been holding it since the day I was taken.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, brushing hair from my face with trembling fingers.
“You didn’t,” I whispered. “You brought me back.”
He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes wet. “I love you.”
“I know,” I breathed. “I heard you.”
Then I closed my eyes again — but this time, it wasn’t from the pain. It was peace. Because I was alive, and he was here, and for the first time in a long, long time…I felt safe.
════ ?★? ════
I was still awake when the door creaked open again.
This time it wasn’t Noah’s voice I heard — it was a pair of gasps, followed by heels clicking rapidly across the floor.
“Oh my god, she’s awake—”
“LIZ!”
Before I could even brace myself, I was enveloped in warmth — arms around me, gentle but trembling, faces wet with tears, laughter breaking through sobs.
Mary clung to one hand, Lillian to the other. Their mascara was smudged, their cheeks pink from crying, but I’d never seen anything so beautiful.
“We thought we lost you,” Lillian choked out, smoothing my hair away from my face like a sister would. “You—you flatlined for three seconds in surgery. And we were just standing there… helpless. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
Mary nodded rapidly beside her, her hand squeezing mine. “We couldn’t breathe, Liz. You’re our best friend. We’re supposed to grow old and laugh about all the insane missions we pulled off and wear ridiculous hats to brunch when we’re 80—not this.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Tears blurred my vision again, but this time they weren’t from pain. I squeezed both their hands.
“I’m okay,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They both let out a sound somewhere between relief and another sob, and Lillian leaned down and kissed my forehead like a protective older sister. Mary just kept holding me, not letting go, like she was anchoring herself to the fact I was still alive.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” I whispered.
“You didn’t scare us,” Mary said, voice cracking. “You broke us. But we’re putting ourselves back together, okay? With you.”
Before I could answer, there was a soft knock on the door and a kind-looking doctor stepped inside. A nurse followed with a tablet, eyes lighting up as she saw me conscious.
“Miss Delacroix,” the doctor said, smiling.
“You scared all of us,” he said, coming to my bedside and checking my vitals on the screen. “But you pulled through. Stronger than anyone expected.”
Mary sniffled. “She does that. It’s kind of her thing.”
The doctor glanced at the nurse, then back at me with a strange twinkle in his eyes.
“Actually, we have… a bit of a surprise. While treating the abdominal trauma, we ran a series of scans. You were given pain suppressants during the procedure and have been monitored very carefully since.”
My brows knit together. “Okay…?”
The nurse turned the tablet toward me, displaying an ultrasound image.
And then it hit me.
“Oh—my God.”
Two little pulses.
Two little flickers of light.
“You’re pregnant, Miss King,” the doctor said gently. “With twins.”
The room stilled.
My breath caught in my throat.
Lillian’s hand flew to her mouth. Mary gasped, and tears began streaming again — this time paired with stunned laughter.
“Twins?” I whispered.
My free hand moved to my stomach, bandaged, bruised, but now something so much more.
“I… I didn’t even know.”
“You were only a few weeks along,” the nurse said, beaming. “They’re strong. We didn’t want to say anything until you were stable. But they’re okay. You’re okay.”
I turned my head slightly and saw Noah standing in the doorway — frozen. He must’ve overheard.
His eyes were wide, jaw slack. For the first time, the ever-fearless, furious man looked… completely undone.
He slowly stepped forward, like he was walking into a dream.
“I’m—going to be a father?” he said, barely above a whisper.
I nodded, eyes brimming.
“With twins.”
And for a moment, everything paused. All the pain. The darkness. The war.
In its place… hope.
Fragile, fierce, undeniable.
We were still healing. Still bleeding.
But for the first time, we weren’t just surviving.
We were beginning again.