The Man Who Couldn't Die

He stared at the baby for days, because that was all he could do. She was in a glass box-like thing that they called an incubator that was keeping her alive, since she was so young. She opened her eyes once and they were the same color as Holland's–chocolate brown. She even had Holland's cheeks and lips.

He touched her once and she gripped his finger like she knew who he was. He smiled for the first time in a very long time.

"Holland?" he whispered, taking Holland's hand in his. The only sound he could hear was the beeping of the machines. "Holland, please, wake up. The doctor's said that–that your body went through so much trauma while delivering the baby that there was a possibility of your body shutting down. You–you can't lose the fight, Hol. Please." He wiped the tears fro his face but they wouldn't stop falling. "The baby's beautiful, you know. She–she looks like you. I–I need you. I can't be without you. I know–I know I said that I wanted to enlist again, but–God, Holland, I don't know what I'm going to do with you. I need you. Our–our baby needs you. Please. Please, wake up. I don't–I don't even know what to call her..."

"Samantha." She looked up at him, her eyes half closed and her voice sounding husky.

"Holland?!" he exclaimed, gripping her hand tighter and wiping his tears away, feeling a smile on his face for the second time.

Holland smiled back at him. "Or Sammie for short."