"…We need to move. Now."
The words didn't echo.
They cut.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Hands moved around Leah.
Careful.
Precise.
But fast.
Too fast.
Izana didn't let go.
Not when they shifted her.
Not when they adjusted the bed.
Not when the machine was brought closer.
His hand stayed locked with hers.
Firm.
Unyielding.
"…Do it here."
His voice was low.
Controlled.
The doctor didn't argue.
Didn't hesitate.
"…We'll monitor from here."
Equipment was set up quickly.
Wires.
Sensors.
The monitor flickered to life.
A faint glow filling the room.
Leah's breathing was uneven.
Her grip tightened around his.
"…Iz…"
He leaned closer instantly.
Ignoring the pull in his back.
Ignoring everything except her.
"…I'm here."
Her other hand pressed against her stomach.
Still.
Waiting.
"…He's not moving…"
Izana's jaw tightened.
Barely.
But it was there.
His hand shifted from hers—
to her stomach.
Covering it.
Protective.
Instinctive.
"…He will."
The doctor adjusted the monitor.
Focused.
Listening.
The room went quiet.
Completely.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Just—
waiting.
Leah swallowed hard.
Her voice shaking now.
"…Why isn't he—."
She couldn't finish it.
Izana's thumb moved slowly over her stomach.
A steady, grounding motion.
"…He will."
The same words.
Again.
Quieter.
But firmer.
Leah shook her head faintly.
"…He was just moving… he didn't stop like this…"
Her breathing hitched.
"…Iz…"
His gaze didn't waver.
"…Look at me."
She tried.
Her eyes locking onto his.
"…Stay with me."
Leah nodded faintly.
Her grip tightening again.
Then—
a sound.
Faint.
Barely there at first.
Then clearer.
Stronger.
Steady.
The room exhaled all at once.
The doctor straightened slightly.
"…There it is."
A pause.
"…The baby is stable."
Leah's breath broke.
Relief crashing into her all at once.
"…Zarek…"
Her voice cracked.
Tears slipped down her temples.
Quiet.
Unstoppable.
"…He's okay…"
The doctor nodded.
"…He is."
Izana didn't speak.
Not immediately.
His grip tightened slightly.
Just enough to be felt.
His eyes closed—
for a second.
Then opened again.
Focused.
Still.
The doctor continued.
"…These were stress-induced contractions."
Leah blinked slowly.
Still catching her breath.
"…Contractions…?"
"…Yes."
A pause.
"…Your body reacted to stress."
Leah swallowed.
"…Stress…?"
The doctor nodded again.
"…Physical and emotional."
Silence.
That word lingered.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Izana didn't react outwardly.
But his hand stilled for just a moment.
Then resumed its steady presence.
"…If this continues," the doctor added, voice more serious now, "it can become dangerous."
Leah's fingers tightened slightly over the sheet.
"…Dangerous… how?"
The doctor met her eyes.
"…It can lead to early labor."
Silence dropped hard.
Leah's breath hitched again.
"…No…"
Izana's voice cut in.
Low.
Cold.
Controlled.
"…Then it won't continue."
The doctor didn't argue.
Just gave a small nod.
"…Then she needs complete rest. No stress. No strain."
Leah shook her head faintly.
"…I'm fine… it was just—."
"…No."
Izana didn't let her finish.
His voice didn't rise.
Didn't soften.
Just final.
Leah looked at him.
"…Iz, I'm okay now—."
"…No."
Again.
A pause.
His gaze didn't leave her.
"…You're not."
Silence followed.
Leah didn't push again.
Didn't argue.
Not this time.
The doctor adjusted the monitor one last time.
"…We'll leave you to rest. Call immediately if anything changes."
Izana didn't look at him.
"…It won't."
The doctor paused briefly.
Then nodded.
And left.
The room quieted again.
But it wasn't calm.
Not fully.
Not yet.
Leah leaned back slightly.
Exhaustion settling in fast now.
Her breathing slowing.
But still uneven.
Izana didn't move.
Didn't look away.
"…Lie down."
Leah blinked at him.
"…You're the one who needs the bed."
"…Now you do."
Flat.
Certain.
Leah shook her head faintly.
"…I'll be fine here…"
"…No."
A pause.
His voice dropped slightly.
Quieter.
But no less firm.
"…Don't make me repeat it."
Leah exhaled softly.
"…You're impossible."
"…I know."
That made her pause.
Just for a second.
Then—
she gave in.
Carefully.
Slowly.
She moved onto the bed.
Every shift deliberate.
Measured.
Izana adjusted the pillow behind her.
Ignoring the strain in his body.
Leah noticed immediately.
"…Stop doing that."
"…Doing what."
"…Acting like you're not injured."
Izana didn't look at her.
"…I'm not."
Leah frowned faintly.
"…You got shot twice."
"…I'm still here."
A pause.
Leah softened slightly.
"…That's not the same."
Izana didn't respond.
Once she was settled—
he stepped back.
Then lowered himself into the armchair beside the bed.
Slow.
Controlled.
Leah watched him.
"…You should be here."
She gestured faintly toward the bed.
Izana met her gaze.
"…I am."
A pause.
"…Just not on the bed."
Leah shook her head slightly.
"…You're stubborn."
"…You already said that."
"…I'll say it again."
A faint pause.
Then quieter—
"…Stay alive long enough to hear it more."
Izana didn't respond.
But his gaze didn't leave her.
Leah's hand moved to her stomach again.
Resting there.
Waiting.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
a small kick.
Leah's breath caught.
"…There…"
Relief softened her voice instantly.
"…He's okay…"
Izana leaned forward slightly.
His hand moved over hers again.
Resting against her stomach.
Grounding.
Leah looked at him.
"…You scared him."
A pause.
Izana's thumb moved faintly.
"…I know."
Leah studied him.
"…You scared me too."
Silence.
Then—
"…I know."
A pause.
Then quieter—
"…I won't again."
Leah didn't respond.
But her fingers tightened slightly over his.
That was enough.
Minutes passed.
Quietly.
Leah's breathing slowed.
Evened out.
Her eyes grew heavier.
Exhaustion pulling her under.
She shifted slightly.
Settling deeper into the bed.
Her voice barely there now—
"…Don't go anywhere…"
Izana didn't hesitate.
"…I'm not moving."
Leah didn't respond.
She was already drifting.
Then—
it started again.
A small kick.
Then another.
Stronger.
More persistent.
Leah shifted faintly in her sleep.
A slight reaction.
Not awake.
But close.
Izana noticed instantly.
His gaze dropped.
Focused.
Calm.
He leaned forward slightly.
Careful.
Measured.
His hand moved.
Resting over her stomach again.
Warm.
Steady.
His thumb began to move.
Slow.
Gentle.
Familiar.
"…Not now."
His voice was low.
Barely audible.
"…Let her sleep."
The motion continued.
Soft circles.
Consistent.
Unhurried.
The movement beneath his hand slowed.
Gradually.
Then—
stopped.
Silence returned.
Leah's body relaxed fully.
No tension.
No reaction.
Just rest.
Izana watched for a moment longer.
Making sure.
Confirming.
Then—
his hand stilled.
But didn't move away.
It stayed there.
Resting.
Guarding.
A long silence filled the room.
Quiet.
Still.
Leah slept.
Peacefully now.
Zarek was calm.
And Izana—
remained exactly where he was.
Unmoving.
Watching.
Waiting.
Present.
Then—
barely a whisper—
"…Good."
And he didn't move again.