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Coming Home to You

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Phil is exhausted.

His cheek throbbed from where a HYDRA agent had punched him, it hurt to breathe through cracked and/or bruised ribs, and he was pretty sure that he’s going to have to come up with a better story then ‘I landed on some sharp metal thing’ to explain the injury to his thigh to Sarah.

However, the only thing on his mind is getting to see her and see how she is doing and meet and hold his daughter for the first time. He doesn’t care that it will kill him to hop over the wall instead of walking around to the gate once he’s parked his government issue car under the cover that was built shortly before he had left for the mission over the end of the dirt driveway that runs up the side of the wall, ending at the orchard’s wall.

He makes his way to the porch, limping a bit because he’s injured and he can’t quite pull up the façade of being perfectly all right at the moment. He has a moment of panic when the front door opens, though he is pretty sure it doesn’t show, when Victoria opens the door.

“She’s in the nursery,” the older, British, woman explained and he smiled his thanks before he headed inside.

The hardwood floors give a nice sound as he walks through. He could easily silence his footfalls (had once done so in metal toed boots with his partner at the time, a wonderful woman named Linda Jenkins, had walked silently in stiletto heels), but he wants Sarah to know he’s here and, no, he doesn’t want to shout.

If Darcy is here, he doesn’t want to wake her up.

Well, that, and Sarah pokes her head out of the nursery. It is on the ground floor because Phil could be a klutz at times (previously planned times) and neither had wanted to risk carrying a sleeping baby up the stairs.

Besides, the upstairs were mainly guest rooms and the only bedroom with another room attached had been the one downstairs, which had meant that it had become theirs once Sarah had learned she was pregnant.

“Phil,” she breathes and rushes over to him. He easily pulls her into a hug, uncaring of the way it jars his injured ribs and she buries her head into the crook of his neck, her nose burying its way against his pulse.

“God, I missed you,” she whimpered out and he carefully held her, pressing his face into her hair.

As much as he wanted to go hold his baby Darcy, he had to take care of a barely holding it together Sarah. She must have been terrified out of her mind when she had gone into labor, alone, in a house that was practically in the middle of nowhere (it really wasn’t; it was an hour away from the nearest hospital), and he rubs her back gently. She lets out a soft sob into her spot against him.

“Are you sure you aren’t psychic?” she asked softly.

“Yes. I think I would have gone mad if I had to deal with my co-workers thoughts,” he answered softly and she lets out a tired laugh against him.

He waits until she pulls away, because he’s always there to be her rock. He never minds standing there and holding her up if it means that she can walk away with her head held high.

And he just hopes that one day, when a mission goes so wrong that he can’t walk with his usual grace, she’ll be there for him too.

However, until then, he’ll enjoy being her rock when he has to be.

She stands pretty well on her own, in his own completely unbiased opinion.

Sarah grabs his hand and drags him down to the nursery, which looks the same as it had before.

A sofa along the wall next to the glider. The crib is across from the sofa, against the other wall, and everything looks like he just walked into a forest, complete with deer poking their heads out from behind the trees, and there's a wolf crouched under the window. The changing table is in the corner and the dresser is settled out of hte way.

None of the clothes they bought ahead of time fit, and probably won't for a bit longer then planned, but Sarah gently has him sit in the glider chair and she is gentle when she carefully lifts a stirring Darcy from her crib. Swaddled in her pink blanket, Sarah carefully settles Darcy Lewis into Phil's arms, adjusting them marginally so he can hold her comfortably. "I need to get my camera," she stated and rushed off before Phil could even say 'okay.'

He makes sure to keep his bruised left cheek out of the picture, just staring down at Darcy. "What's her full name?" he asks.

Sarah gives him a mischevious smile and he wonders if he wants to know. "Darcy Philippa Lewis. Nicky said something about how that way there isn't confusion or something. I think it is because you are terrified about something that you won't tell me about," she answered and Phil wants to laugh.

Because, yes, he's terrified that, one day, someone is going to walk into his house and kill his entire family and leave them in the living room for him to find, including the family dog, like what happened to Level X Agent Henderson after he managed to take down an entire Hydra cell.

"Ah, no. It is because you'll probably be picking her up from places. You kept your name, remember?" he answered calmly, but with a smile.

It was returned with one of her own, warm and bright, and he relaxed under it, before he looked back down at Darcy who had fallen asleep in his arms. He ran one hesitant finger across her cheek and she shifted a little before he looked up. "We have a baby girl," he breathed out as it caught up to him, in that moment.

"We do," she answered softly as she carefully perched herself on the sofa next to him, her head resting on his shoulder.

They stay like that until Victoria tells them it is dinner time.