One More Night

They only ended up spending about two hours in the delivery room, which Linda told them was a miracle in itself as they waited for the doctors to return with the newborn. Before even Marc had been able to steal a glimpse they’d whisked the crying baby away for a full check up to make sure that the slightly premature birth didn’t bring along any issues. However, they were starting to take too long and Bree was getting antsy.

“Oh my God what if something’s wrong Marc,” he looked over to find tears were streaming down her face, and felt his heart break as he looked over at the mother of his child. He was starting to worry too, but refused to let her know that.

“I’m sure it’s fine Bree – they’re probably all just fawning over the most adorable baby ever,” he insisted, getting a hiccup of a chuckle from her as she leaned heavily into his side. Even his mother was beginning to worry, he realized, as she kept drumming her fingers on her knee.

“But they’ve been gone like twenty minutes Marc,”

“I’m sure everything will be absolutely fine sweetheart,” he assured her, and kissed the top of her head as he rubbed her back softly. Footsteps at the door had all of them on high alert, and Marc’s stomach churned slightly when their doctor did not have their baby in hand.

“So, we’ve ran several tests, did measurements and weighing,” he started, and Bree let out a strangled noise.

“Is everything okay? Where’s our baby?”

“Ms. Sanders your child is fine – one of the nurses is just taking a blood sample, and finding a diaper, sleeper and blanket to fit such a small baby,” he explained, and all three of them visibly sank into their seats; Bree leaning so heavily on Marc she almost worried.

“But surprisingly, though a little early, all seems to be fine,” he told them before exiting the room, and holding the door open for the nurse who wheeled in the bassinet.

“Here he is; what an adorable baby you two. Congratulations,” she said, and Bree looked to Marc, the stunned look gracing his features as well.

“H-he… she said…”

“He,” Bree smiled, looking to the bassinet and the little baby swaddled with a soft blue-gray blanket and a little blue toque. “It’s a boy.”

“It’s a boy,” Marc repeated, a few rogue tears managing to slip down his cheeks. He honestly hadn’t cared whether it was a boy or a girl, and when Bree said she’d wanted to keep it a surprise for herself he hadn’t asked. But to have a little boy tugged at his heart. He’d get to teach him to skate and play hockey and football and all of the stuff he’d so enjoyed learning with his dad.

“He’s beautiful you two,” Marc had almost forgotten for a moment that his mother was in the room with them, and he quickly moved aside so she could get a better look. “He looks so much like you did as a baby, Marc.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Did you guys pick some names?” she asked, and Marc looked over to Bree, and found her eyes on him.

“Well… sort of,” she allowed, before giggling. “But we never really decided on one.”

“Yeah, there was a few we were looking at,” he agreed, and then smiled over at her. “Theo, Henrik – which would be a nice combination of our dad’s names – and Ryan.”

“Those are wonderful names,” was all his mother said, before excusing herself from the room to call her husband with the news, and effectively leaving them to discuss the name situation.

“I still don’t know which one to pick,” he admitted, and Bree laughed.

“Me either, it’s a little intimidating trying to pick the name he’ll have forever,” she agreed, before they settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“What if… what if we used two of them? Called him Theodore Henrik Staal?” Bree was so quiet Marc almost didn’t hear her, but as soon as he heard the name he knew it was perfect. Somehow it suited the hours-old baby in her arms.

“I love it… it’s perfect Bree,”

“So… that’s it? We’ve picked?” she giggled, and he nodded, kissing her forehead before pressing a soft kiss to his the top of his son’s head.

“We did. Theodore Henrik Staal,” he repeated, the name sounding better every time.

They sat quietly for a while, enjoying the ability to relax and just enjoy some quiet as their little boy napped in Marc’s arms. There was a soft tap at the door before Linda let herself back in, and Marc couldn’t wait to tell her the news.

“So, we’ve decided,” he announced, and saw her smile.

“Good, because your father is absolutely dying to know what his new grandson’s name is,” she teased, getting both parents to laugh as Marc carefully handed him over to his mother.

“Theodore Henrik Staal,” he told her, and saw her tear up a little bit.

“Theodore Henrik… that’s a wonderful name. And – no offense or anything – I’m glad you’re going with Staal,” Marc raised an eyebrow at his mother, before looking to Bree. He’d never really asked, but maybe he’d been wrong to just assume that’s what they’d go with?

“I never really thought about it… were you wanting him to use Sanders?” Marc, asked, and Bree’s eyes were wide as she shook her head.

“I never… I never really thought about it either. I just kind of assumed he’d be Staal,” she admitted, before they were both laughing at each other’s concern over their assumptions. It was part of why he loved Bree so much.

“Well I appreciate it sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, and saw the look of alarm on his mothers’ face as she realized she’d brought up something that could have been a sensitive subject without knowing they hadn’t discussed it.

“I’m sorry… I just assumed…”

“It’s fine Linda – honest,” Bree swore, trying not to laugh. “I really just assumed he’d go by Staal… it never really occurred to me for him to take my last name.”

After assuring and calming down Linda that she hadn’t caused an issue, one of the doctors came in saying that visiting hours were over. Which meant that Linda had to leave. Marc could stay, and he knew he’d return after running to find some sort of sleeping mat or air mattress to bring into the room.

“Your poor mom… she looked like she was going to die,” Bree giggled, cleaning Theo’s face after he’d finished eating and then placing him in the bassinette. Marc nodded, sitting down on the side of her hospital bed and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“She did… she probably just thought we’d have discussed absolutely everything already,” he chuckled.

“I’m… I’m glad you want him to go by Staal. But I mean it Bree, if you want him to have your last name that’s okay,” he told her, and she looked at him in confusion.

“I dunno… it makes sense to me for him to have your last name,”

“Good,” he told her, catching her off guard and making her laugh.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I plan on changing your last name at some point too sweetheart, and that would confuse the hell out of him for us to have the same last name and he a different one,” he smirked, getting Bree to blush uncontrollably as she curled into his side to hide the pink in her cheeks.