Trick of the Light Part IX
It was after midnight there; somewhere in the midst of his panic Harry knew this by heart and didn’t care.
“Harry?” His mum’s sleepy voice over the line was an instant comfort, enough that he could finally pull in a full breath. “How is she, how’s everyone doing?”
A ragged exhale, shaking fingers raked through his sweat-dampened curls. “I - I don’t know, Mum, they won’t tell me anything and I-“
“Harry.” Wide awake this time. “Take a breath, darling. Deep breath.”
Another inhale through his nose and out. He tried desperately to recall the breathwork he’d just been following at Lia’s side. In and out. And again.
A different nurse found him in the hall after he’d slumped to the floor with his face buried in his hands; he wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. He didn’t want to leave that exact spot, wanted to plant himself right there outside the delivery room so that he couldn’t possibly miss anything happening inside. Carol was going to get him as soon as she could, she promised.
He told this new nurse as much, practically begged her to let him stand whatever guard he could. He vaguely registered the spark of recognition on her face but felt his stomach sink anew when she gently suggested he might be more comfortable in a room. She could get him a room to wait in; was there anyone she could call?
She eventually convinced him that he didn’t have to go far, she would send someone in the second there was anything new to know. But when Harry found himself in an empty hospital room down the hall the silence was too much. The lights were too bright, his thoughts were too loud, so he flipped the wall switch off and fished the phone from the pocket of his slacks to call the only other person on earth he wanted to talk to in that moment.
Another inhale, now, before he continued. “Something happened after the birth,” he explained, fingers twisting agitatedly in his hair. “She…lost a lot of blood and she passed out or she-” He stopped himself, forcing another breath. “They wouldn’t let me stay, I had to leave her.” His voice broke as he felt her hand slipping from his, over and over. “I didn’t want to leave her and now I don’t know anything that’s happening and I-”
“I can’t lose her, Mum. Not now, not after everything…” He trailed off, the ache in his heart so intense he doubled over at the end of the hospital bed.
“Tell her, Harry.” His mother’s tone was gentle but her words were filled with conviction. “You have to tell her.”
He exhaled the anguish from deep in his chest. “What if it’s-”
“It’s not too late,” she assured him. “She will hear you.”
Harry pressed his hand against bloodshot eyes. “I’m really scared,” he admitted, so quiet he could barely hear himself.
“I know you are, my love,” she replied, the familiar warmth in her voice the next best thing to her arms around him. “And I also know that you can be scared and brave. I’ve seen you do it since you were just a little boy, hm?”
He nodded on another shuddering breath, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m trying.”
A knock on the door, then, and Harry jolted. “Mum, I have to-”
“It’s okay, darling. It will be okay. I’m here if you need me.”
“I know,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
He leapt to his feet as Dr. Gonzalez strode into the room. “Harry,” he corrected automatically. “How is she?”
Dr. Gonzalez sighed, her worn eyes meeting his. “Ophelia is stable,” she assured him, and Harry nearly slumped over from the sudden relief coursing through his body. “She did experience a substantial hemorrhage, but at this point it doesn’t appear she’ll require a transfusion.”
His brow furrowed, trying to process this information. Only the word ‘stable’ registered. “So she’s going to be okay,” he urged. “Can I see her?”
“She’s under observation right now,” Dr. Gonzalez explained. “We’re hoping to prevent taking her in for a hysterectomy.”
“Oh.” Harry’s eyes widened and he blew out a breath. “O-okay.”
“The next hour or so is critical from that standpoint,” the doctor added, eyes kind as she placed her hand on his arm. “But ultimately we expect her to be just fine.” She paused, flipping through her chart before lifting her eyes back to him. “I understand you’re not listed as her next of kin.”
Harry cleared his throat. “No. No, that’s her sister. She’s flying in tomorrow.”
Dr. Gonzalez nodded, pursing her lips in thought.
“Is that why no one will tell me about…” He swallowed thickly. “Where’s the baby?”
“The baby is fine,” Dr. Gonzalez told him, surprised. “Perfect, in fact.” She paused, her expression softening. “Would you like to see her, Harry?”
His heart skipped a beat. “I - can I?”
Harry followed her instructions to stay put, and he’d only paced the room a handful of times before the door opened again.
“We thought you should be properly introduced,” Carol said by way of greeting as she wheeled a small bassinet ahead of her. “I don’t have anything new from what the doctor already told you, but I suspect this might help in the meantime.”
He nodded, eyes wide as he watched the nurse reach in for a tightly wrapped bundle.
“You’ve all had a long day, haven’t you,” she mused softly, more to the baby than to Harry, before turning expectant eyes toward him. He nodded quickly, eagerly, and without skipping a beat she transferred the newborn into his waiting arms.
Harry stared down at her in awe, vision blurred in another rush of emotion as he got his first real look at her impossibly delicate face. “Happy Birthday, sweet girl,” he managed. “Can’t believe I finally get to meet you. I’m Harry.”
He held his breath as the baby stirred, eyes slowly drifting open and blinking up at him curiously.
“How about that...she knows your voice,” Carol observed. “You must be pretty special.”
Harry was too entranced to respond, wide green eyes locking with her tiny gray ones.
“I’ll leave you to get acquainted,” she continued, a gentle hand on his arm. “We’ll bring Lia when she’s out of observation. Harry?”
He finally tore his gaze away, startled somehow by the sound of his name. “Hm?”
“Is there anything you need?”
Another deep inhale. “I…I need her to be okay. We need her to be okay.”
Carol gave a short nod, a quick squeeze. “I know.”
The weight of the baby in his arms kept him anchored as he paced back and forth across the narrow room, dimly lit and smelling faintly of antiseptic. Through the heavy wooden door he could hear the sound of newborns crying and machines beeping.
But in there it was silent. Just the two of them, as he gazed down at her and she stared right back up at him. And he waited, singing softly to her when he couldn’t bear the sound of his own thoughts any longer.
Lia’s eyes slowly drifted open, blinking up curiously. Her mouth and her head felt fuzzy, like they’d been stuffed with cotton. Though she couldn’t see much in the faint light, she still startled when her gaze moved lower.
The round belly that had become so much a part of her in the last few weeks and months was…not gone, exactly, but much less prominent than it had been. She moved a weak hand over its surface, the sudden realization that her baby wasn’t there filling her with panic.
And when she shifted wide eyes toward the sound of soft humming, she wasn’t sure whether to crumple in relief or disbelief.
Lia blinked again, hot tears flooding her eyes at the sight of him sat beside the hospital bed with a tiny bundle in his arms.
“You had us all worried for a bit,” he continued, the timbre of his voice shockingly familiar. Like it hadn’t abruptly gone silent nine months ago.
“Hi.” He tilted his head, equally familiar eyes studying her with a bittersweet kind of understanding. “How are you feeling?”
She shook her head, genuinely unsure. “Am I - are we dead?”
Now Sam blinked at her in surprise. “Are you - god, no,” he snorted. “You’ve both just had a really long day.” He paused. “Me, on the other hand…”
Lia’s breath caught in her throat, very much alive. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, his gaze shifting from her to the newborn cradled against his chest. “You’re amazing, you know that? Look what you did.”
“What we did,” she corrected, heart swelling as she watched their daughter shift in her sleep. “I - I don’t know how to do this alone.”
“Lia,” he sighed, adjusting the baby’s tiny pink hat. “You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone, don’t you know that?” He turned his full attention to her with a long, purposeful look. “Let them in.”
Her brow furrowed, fingers knotting together on her lap. “Let…who in?”
Sam shifted closer, his eyes locking with hers. “Everyone who loves you.”
Lia swallowed convulsively, trying to clear the cotton that made a response nearly impossible. She pressed her hand against the lump in her throat. “I’m really scared,” she admitted, so quiet she could barely hear herself.
“I know. But you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met…bloody independent, too,” he added wryly. “Sometimes being brave means letting go and letting love in.”
His words settled into silence, the gravity of it leaving Lia utterly speechless. All the unspoken words between them, all the ways they tried, all the pieces that didn’t quite fit.
When Sam spoke again, it was gentle but resigned. “We did our best, didn’t we. Got a few things right.” He glanced down at their daughter and Lia fought back a sob.
“We did,” she agreed, voice breaking. “You...and our life together..l will always be grateful for it.”
Sam looked up again, his eyes bright. “Me too.”
After another long pause, Lia let out a deep, shaky exhale. “I’m not really talking to you, am I,” she ventured. “Are you really here or is it the drugs?”
Sam pressed his lips together, another knowing look. “Maybe.”
Whatever it was, she felt the gratitude deep in her exhausted bones. “Thank you for this,” she murmured. “Thank you for being here.”
His mouth curved into the ghost of a smile. “Be happy, Lia. Whatever that…however that looks. Just want you and the girls to be happy.”
The ache in her chest was almost too much to bear, but she felt herself nod. And then the light shifted, the space went sideways as somewhere, far away, she heard the faint sound of her name.
Harry watched, the breath caught in his throat as her eyes slowly drifted open. They shifted back and forth in confusion for a moment, mouth opening and closing before her gaze finally settled on his.
“Ophelia?” he repeated, softly, cautiously.
She blinked, her eyes struggling to focus on his hopeful face.
Harry hadn’t been sure what he expected when Lia was finally, blessedly wheeled into the room. But the fact that she was still attached to an IV, still unconscious, purposefully medicated to give her body more time to recover, hit him harder than he thought it would.
He steeled himself and gave his genuine thanks to Dr. Gonzalez, nodded his understanding when she explained the drugs would wear off in a couple of hours. Lia would be groggy, perhaps a little confused, but it was temporary.
And then they were alone. For the first time since she’d been placed in his arms, Harry carefully eased the baby into the bassinet. He wheeled it as close to the bed as he could, wondering if somehow mother and daughter could find comfort in each other.
When he slipped Lia’s small hand cautiously between his large ones, he was relieved to feel its familiar warmth and shape. He’d hoped, foolishly, that she’d respond somehow. Squeeze his hand, open her eyes. She didn’t.
But she could hear him, couldn’t she? On some level? Both his mum and Dr. Gonzalez had encouraged him to talk to her.
So he told her how amazing she was, how brave. Assured her that the baby was safe and healthy and perfect; that May told him Luna ate all her broccoli at dinner and found a missing Ringo behind the sofa and only asked for three stories before she fell asleep. He told her Gwen was flying out first thing in the morning, that she would have teleported herself there in an instant if she could. He promised he wouldn’t leave her side until then.
Harry’s gaze shifted to their hands, to his thumb running along the ridge between her thumb and index finger, and back to her still face. “There’s something else I…” He trailed off, jaw set and heart stuttering. His thumb drifted lower, to the slow, steady rhythm in her wrist that told him she was there with him.
And he might have imagined it, but he could swear he felt her heart beat just a bit faster.
Harry alternated between sitting beside the bed and pacing with the baby when she stirred. It wasn’t until his second lap that he noticed the moonlight spilling through the cheap blinds. He adjusted them with his free hand, gazing out into the night sky and then down at the newborn dozing in his arms.
“Would you believe it,” he said, managing a soft chuckle. “April Fool’s and a full moon. You’re going to keep us on our toes, aren’t you.” He told her about her big sister and the night she was born, how she got her name.
“Wish I knew what to call you,” he mused, stroking his finger over her round cheek. “Barely recognize you from that little gummy bear in your first photo.” His grin widened when she responded with a deep yawn. “Right.”
They stood at the window for a while, bathed in moonlight and gently swaying in the way Harry had picked up with his godchildren. He didn’t know it then, but it would soon become as natural as breathing.
As he moved toward the chair at Lia’s side, he scanned her face for any sign of…anything. She was pale and so still, and so he settled back to wait. More minutes passed, and he thought he must be imagining it when her eyelids fluttered. It was nearly imperceptible…the moonlight playing tricks on him, maybe. But then…
“Ophelia?” He murmured her name, a prayer.
Her brow furrowed and relaxed; her chin quivered. Tiny movements that had never filled Harry with such relief. He reached tentatively for her hand, heart in his throat when he felt a quick, reflexive squeeze. “Ophelia?”
And when she slowly opened her eyes and whispered “Sam?” he felt it plummet all the way to his toes.
Harry squinted at the vending machine, the fluorescent lights in the waiting room harsh on his bloodshot eyes. A Mars bar and iced tea later, he lifted the cold bottle to his lips and realized how thirsty he actually was.
It was Carol who finally convinced him to take a walk, get a bite to eat. Her shift was ending, and she told him she wouldn’t leave until he’d gotten something in his stomach. The cafeteria had been closed for hours, but that old vending machine hadn’t moved.
He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and considered the coffee machine in the corner…but he suspected that, too, hadn’t changed much, and used the handful of change on another bottle of tea.
The phone in his pocket buzzed once as he ventured back down the hall; a text from his mum. It was morning there, she was checking in and hoped he was getting some rest.
Harry carefully, quietly ducked his head into Lia’s room; she and the baby were both sound asleep, just as he’d left them. He retreated to a small alcove just across the hall. It was after midnight now, and save for a nurse making rounds at the other end he was completely alone.
He studied the Mars bar for a moment before shoving it into his pocket, exchanging it for his phone.
“Oh Harry, I didn’t wake you with my text, did I?”
“I was awake, Mum,” he assured her, leaning against the wall and rolling the button on his cardigan between his fingers.
“You sound exhausted, darling,” she sympathized. “I know you don’t want to leave, but can you get some rest while she’s asleep?”
Carol had suggested the same thing, bringing an extra pillow and blankets so he could make a nest on the uncomfortable little sofa in the room. But as tired as his body was after being up for nearly 24 hours straight, his brain showed no sign of slowing down.
“I’m fine,” he told her, which was partly true. He was overwhelmed with relief that Lia was, relatively speaking, okay. Carol had checked her vitals several times over the last few hours, and he’d had the brief conversation with her when she first regained consciousness.
It had only taken a few moments of silence before she had blinked again, shook her head a little and whispered, “Harry. Hi.”
He’d swallowed back the wave of trepidation that threatened to consume him and focused on her face. On the way her hand weakly but thoroughly squeezed his back and didn’t let go.
She didn’t say much; the drugs were still circulating in her system and she was so, so tired. But he told her again about the baby, lifting her carefully into his arms to give her a proper view. He told her about Luna, and Gwen, and even about the full moon…and by then her eyes were drifting closed again, floating on that fine line between awake and dreaming. He told her to sleep, that they could talk more later, and tried to get the bittersweet taste out of his mouth.
Harry studied the hospital bracelet on his wrist now. It had a little duck on it, Lia’s name and Baby Girl Turner. They all matched and indicated he belonged there, with them. He wondered if it was true.
“Fine,” Anne repeated, and he could practically see the skeptical look on her face. “Don’t lie to your mother, Harry.”
He sighed deeply, twisting the bracelet back and forth. “I’ll be fine,” he amended. “I’m just worried about Lia…and the girls…”
“Of course you are, darling, you love them,” she replied simply. “And I’m worried about you, because I love you.”
Harry swallowed hard, nodded his head even though he knew she couldn’t see him.
“Life is too short not to tell people how we feel,” she reminded him gently. “It’s too short not to be vulnerable. With yourself too, hm?”
He exhaled an expletive, not sure and not much caring if his mother heard. She was right; she was always right and right now he hated it.
“Be honest with her, darling. She deserves that. So do you.”
Harry dragged his hand over his face, pulling agitatedly at his lower lip. “Feel like I’ve fucked it all up.”
“You’re feeling human, Harry. The good and the bad, that’s what life is. And aren’t we lucky to feel at all?”
Fuck, his mum was always right.
It was a rumble of thunder that slowly coaxed Harry’s eyes open. His neck and his back were screaming at him; he grimaced as he slowly shifted himself on the sofa he’d finally surrendered to.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
His eyes widened at the sight of Lia, propped up in the hospital bed with pillows and offering him a weak smile.
“Good morning,” he echoed, his voice low and rough. “How - how’re you feeling?”
“Not as much as I will when the drugs wear off,” she told him wryly, “But I feel okay. I - I feel really lucky.” She paused, watching as he nodded and eased slowly to his feet and then patted the bed beside her. “Sit with me?”
Harry obliged, sinking down gingerly at the edge of the mattress and then glancing around in confusion as he realized the bassinet was gone.
“She’s in the nursery. They wanted to let us rest for a bit,” Lia explained, and Harry’s pulse quickened at the word us. “Got a full day ahead attempting to feed and change her, so I took them up on it.” She paused before noting softly, “The nurse said you wouldn’t let her go.”
Harry shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “We kept each other company,” he admitted. “I - I didn’t want her to be alone.” Selfishly, he didn’t want to be alone either.
Lia reached abruptly for his hand, squeezing it harder than she did even yesterday. “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you for loving them, and for…” She trailed off, swallowing back the rush of emotion as her eyes darted to his.
A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and the deep rumble of thunder that followed shook something inside to his core. Harry studied their hands for a long moment, the way their fingers intertwined. He sucked in a breath and then lifted his eyes to hers.
“I’ve always said I would do anything for you, yeah? But I…I haven’t been completely honest. And this is probably the worst time, but it was never the right time except maybe at the very beginning, and I was young and so stupid and I blew it, and I’ve regretted it every fucking day of my life.”
Lia stared back at him, bewildered. This was, quite possibly, the fastest she’d ever heard him speak and her head was still fuzzy. “Harry, what are you-“
She went white, even paler than before. After an agonizing silence she spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “You never told me.”
He shook his head, mournful green eyes piercing hers. “I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t.”
She considered this, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. “You…you say it to everyone. All your friends, all the people in your life. You’ve never said it to me.”
Harry’s chest constricted at her words, at the hurt and confusion on her face. It was all true.
“It was never enough,” he confessed. “I’m so in love with you.” He tried to take in every inch of her face, the way a million emotions reflected his. “I’ve been in love with you for...Christ, longer than I’ve ever wanted to admit. But I - I have to.” He took a steadying breath. “If something happened to you and I’d never told you…” He trailed off, his throat so thick with emotion that he couldn’t finish the thought. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do.
The steady beat of rain against the window was the only sound, and then, as fast as lightning lit up their faces, their mouths found each other.
Neither was sure who got there first; it didn’t matter anymore as the desperate kiss eased into something deliberate. It was slow, and sure, and filled with promise. He finally let it out, she was finally letting it in.
They were so absorbed in the moment, in one another, that they didn’t notice the door ease open.
“So.” Harry chewed pensively on the wad of gum in his mouth, feeling like a child about to be scolded.
When Gwen walked in on them that morning, her face first reflected shock before it settled into something more…disappointed? Resigned? Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that while still processing his own rollercoaster of emotions, and when he cast wide eyes at Lia he could see she was doing the same.
So he stood hastily and exchanged an awkward one-armed embrace with Gwen before she took his place at her sister’s side.
“Sorry to, uh, interrupt,” she offered dryly, shooting a look at Harry. “I guess you missed my texts.”
Lia gave Harry an apologetic look, quietly suggested that he go home to get some real sleep. He hesitated, but when she asked if he could bring her hospital bag later, he finally obliged.
The spring rain was still falling in sheets as he pulled into Lia’s driveway. He knew he’d missed seeing Luna before school, but he was surprised to find Aunt May puttering around the kitchen as he kicked off his soggy Vans by the door.
She seemed less surprised to see him, greeting him with a warm hello and a kiss on each cheek. Just straightening up a bit, she explained, would he like to join her for tea? She wanted to hear all about Lia and the baby.
So he sank down at the kitchen table, the magnitude of the last 24 hours also starting to sink in. Recalling the details he could remember - and leaving out a few of them, too - he realized how intense it actually was. It was cathartic, releasing some of the adrenaline that had taken up residence in his veins.
May listened to every word, patting his hand and then chuckling in delight when Harry showed her the one photo he’d thought to take of Baby Girl Turner.
“What an angel. Has she got a name?” May asked curiously.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t think so, not yet.”
She hummed. “If I know Lia, it’ll be just right. We’ll find out soon enough.” Now she paused, watching Harry run his finger along the rim of his nearly full cup of tea. “And you, Harry…how are you?”
He thought about this; a loaded question if he’d ever been asked. After a moment he looked up, bleary eyes meeting her twinkling ones. “A bit tired,” he admitted, “but I’m good. I’m really good.” And he finally, really was.
He followed her gaze as it drifted out the window behind him, a wistful smile on her face. “How about that. We don’t often get rainbows here like we do back home.”
Sure enough, a brilliant prism arced through the gray sky. “Wow,” he whistled under his breath.
“Nature has a way of making peace with it all, hm?”
They both watched as the rainbow slowly faded into the brightening horizon. He really wanted to believe it was true.
Now, three iced coffees, two almond croissants, one hospital bag, and zero hours of sleep later, Harry stood face to face with Gwen in the alcove outside Lia’s room. He held out the beverage carrier like some sort of peace offering, which Gwen accepted with a genuine smile.
“Thanks. The coffee here is garbage,” she told him, as if he wasn’t well aware. “The lactation nurse stopped in to see Lia so I’m giving them some space and catching up on some work emails.” She cleared her throat. “Turns out the service here is also garbage.”
“I realize this morning probably took you by surprise.” Apparently Harry was feeling emboldened today; he even surprised himself.
“It didn’t,” she responded, equally blunt, before taking a long sip of coffee. “Harry, please don’t misunderstand what I’m trying to say,” she continued, meeting his level gaze. “I like you. I trust you. But that’s my sister in there. She’s been through so much the last year, I don’t need to tell you that-”
“You don’t,” he agreed cooly. Hadn’t he been there for all of it? As much as he possibly could?
Gwen blew out a breath. “We both know she’d slaughter me if she knew we were having this conversation, so all I want to do is remind you that she’s fragile right now.”
“Do you really think I’d hurt her? Or the girls?”
The door to Lia’s room opened then, and the nurse nodded at them. “We’re done for now if you want to go back in.”
Gwen gave Harry a sideways look. “Lia’s desperate for one of those,” she informed him, nodding toward the drink carrier. “I’m going to see if the cafeteria has better phone service than coffee. Tell her I’ll be back in a bit.”
And that was that. Harry watched as she walked purposefully down the hall before exhaling a deep sigh and adjusting the small duffel bag over his shoulder. When he knocked lightly on the door, Lia glanced up with a mix of surprise and relief at the sight of him - though he suspected it was more the coffee than anything else.
“You’re a magician,” she sighed happily, cradling her daughter in one arm while accepting the drink with the opposite hand. “H, did you sleep even a little bit?”
Harry shrugged, setting the bag on the sofa before settling himself at the edge of the bed. “I will,” he promised. “Wanted to drop these off first. Priorities.” He watched as the baby stretched and sighed, her tiny brow furrowing in her sleep. “I didn’t forget about you. Next time I’ll bring you flowers, hm?”
Lia glanced down at her with a knowing smile and then back up at Harry. “Would you like to hold her while I eat my croissant?” she asked sweetly.
Harry snorted. “Priorities indeed.” He carefully accepted the baby, tutting softly as she squirmed before settling comfortably into his arms.
“You remember Harry, don’t you, Iris.”
His lips curved as he studied the way her lashes fluttered against her soft cheeks, watched in wonder as her eyes opened for just a moment before she drifted off again. “Iris,” he repeated softly, his gaze finally lifting to Lia. “S’perfect. She’s perfect.”
“I meant to tell you earlier, but…” she trailed off, her pale cheeks turning just a bit more pink.
He huffed a laugh. “I understand.”
“And there was…one other thing.” Lia pulled her lower lip between her teeth, the thing that still sent his stomach into backflips every time. “You know, that I didn’t get to tell you.”
His eyes darted from her mouth to her eyes, caught off guard by the emotion reflecting back. “What’s that?”
Part IX play list: Dare You to Move - Switchfoot, First Day of My Life - Bright Eyes, Absence of Fear - Jewel
A/N: Whew! Would love to hear your thoughts on this one. Did you guess Baby Girl's name? A massive thank you to my little tumblr book club for being so supportive and inspiring. And @oh-honey-styles and @for-fucks-sake-h thank you for being the actual literal best.
