Take Me Out

Epilogue - I Love You

warnings: fluff and the slightest bit of angst

***

The Birth

"Good job, love, keep pushing, oh my god, okay, I think I see the head," Tom says, pulling away from your hand.

You let out a shrill cry, pushing with all of your strength, "you think?"

You start to panic, feeling overwhelmed as your body feels like it's getting torn up from the inside out.

"That's it love! You got it! He's, oh my god, he's here," Tom shouts, looking up at you with wide eyes as you finally push your baby out, small cries filling your guest bedroom.

"Oh my god," you sigh, your head falling back onto the pillow and your eyes closing shut as Tom cuts the umbilical cord, swaddling your child in a blanket as he continues to cry.

"He looks just like you," Tom says as your knees fall shut and Tom brings the baby over to you.

You force your eyes back open, smiling as Tom sits next to you, holding your kid in his arms.

"Tom, oh god we don't even have a name for him yet," you whine as you take him into your arms, a part of you, 50% of your DNA, a beautiful child that is yours, yet you haven't even come up with a name for him yet. Your mind starts to race with intruding thoughts, that you're going to be a bad mother. That going through with the pregnancy was a horrible idea. Even your mother probably had a name for you before she gave birth to you.

"It's okay, he won't even remember today, what do you think we should name him?" Tom asks, slowly wiping your forehead with a towel.

"Trevor," you reply. The name comes out of nowhere, you aren't even sure you said it until Tom repeats the name twice.

"The name we came up with when we first met," Tom smiles, "it's perfect."

"Hi Trevor, I'm your mommy, and this is your daddy, and we love you so much my sweet boy," you smile, feeling tears well in your eyes.

You finally felt like you things were falling into place, even though you had worries, that you might fall into the same rut your mother fell into, that Tom is 10 times the man your father is, and he would be there for you in a way your father never was.

Looking down at Trevor with Tom's arm around your shoulder, you feel like your life is just beginning.

***

9 Months Old

Tom and you are sitting on opposite ends of the living room, you with Trevor's soft blue blanket, Tom holding onto Trevor as his legs begin to kick up.

You've been waiting for this day for a month or so, Trevor's first steps.

"Come on Trev, you got this," you praise, watching as Trevor gets solid footing on one foot, his hands reaching out in front of him to pick himself up.

"Should I let go? I don't want him to fall on his face," Tom worries, his eyebrows turning in.

You nod, "doing so great sweetie," you praise Trevor, "come to mommy!"

Tom let's go of Trevor, letting him begin to walk on his own.

"Mom-ma!" Trevor shouts, feet padding along the carpet, hands reaching out toward you.

The space is small and Trevor gets to you in no time, both of you falling into a fit of giggles as he crawls into your lap, tugging at your shirt.

"Do you want to try walking over to daddy now?" you laugh, helping Trevor stand up again.