The two of you had been trying for a child months before Simon's deployment. When you had eventually fallen pregnant it was two months before his next scheduled deployment—not ideal, but with the deployment lasting only six months, it gave a window for Simon to come home before your due date.

That was the ideal plan anyway, but your little one had other ideas when your water broke the night before he was scheduled to come back home at two in the morning.

Your mind swam with worries of him not being around for your first child and the lack of his support at your side was daunting to face, and yet ten hours in with no one but nurses to soothe you while in labour,

You hear him before you see him, his voice carrying through the hospital's halls and his long, heavy steps distinctive off the tile.

A short moment later he comes in and moves quickly to you where you're held up in bed—eyes scanning you—probably making sure you're alright. When he seems settled with your state he places a hand on your shoulder and the other on your stomach, sitting next to you. "Sorry love. Traffic was hell to get here," Simon murmurs to you, "How're you feeling?"