I took a deep breath and smiled. No bullets raining down, no explosions, and no men breaking into the building with automatic assault rifles. Our first day back would be without event. I dared to hope that Hell would wait until the baby came to bother with threats. Their typical pride and overconfidence would give us a little more time to plan, and to win over some key allies on the other side.

As we drove through the streets of Providence, it suddenly seemed like the home I had known in my childhood. In that moment, it wasn’t harboring threats at every corner; it didn’t seem dark and sinister. It was the picturesque, bustling, traffic-heavy town I remembered. Where I was born. Where my child would be born, and where I’d walked the streets with my father. Providence was the backdrop of my love story with Jared. It was still home, and this is where we would make our stand.

“You’re curiously relaxed this evening,” Jared said.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Everything just feels right.”

“That’s encouraging.”

We picked up dinner and then made our way to the hospital. When the elevator doors opened, Jared grabbed my hand and led me to Ryan’s room. The door was open, but it was quiet inside.

Claire sat next to the head of Ryan’s bed. Her head was resting on her fist, and she was smiling at him. Ryan’s fingers mindlessly twisted a section of blanket next to Claire’s arm. They seemed to be engaged in a sweet conversation about nothing in particular. I remembered when I was in that chair, giggling at Ryan’s nonsensical humor, and I was glad to see the light back in his eyes.

The IVs and telemetry leads were no longer streaming from different parts of his body. He seemed so relaxed with Claire next to him. I reached out for Jared’s hand. His knuckles brushed against mine as our fingers interlaced, and I looked up at him. He was smiling at his baby sister, pleased to see her finally content.

Ryan’s eyes wandered to the doorway where we stood. Claire slowly turned our direction and offered a small smile.

“Knock, knock,” Jared said, holding up the bags of take-out. “Cheeseburgers. Nina said it’s your favorite.”

Ryan’s smile turned into a cheesy grin, and he threw his head back. “Oh, thank God! I thought I would starve to death.”

“Oh,” Ryan said, chewing an oversized wad of cheeseburger. “Red Stripe has the best burgers. Seriously. You shouldn’t do this to me in the hospital. I might think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Could you be a little more dramatic about a cheeseburger?”

Ryan stopped chewing, and wiped the bit of ketchup off the corner of his mouth with his wrist. “You don’t have to be jealous of a burger, honey.”