Solangelo One Shots

Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes (Pt. 2)

Hi! Yes, I am alive *unimpressive hair flip* *sobs 'cause I cut off  12 inches of my hair (I donated it)* So, some updates: I'll be starting university this August, which is partially why I haven't been active. I haven't had any time. Now, this one was pre-written, and I meant to have it up way before now, so I do apologize for that. I also have gotten more requests, and I really am sorry for how long the others are taking--I hope to be better, but we'll see. Anyways, enjoy! (Sorry it's so short)

Previously:

"Sir," The man on the other side of the phone took a deep breath. "He had been MIA."

"What!?" My head spun, and I stumbled back, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying not to let the tears fall as my daughter let out a cry, squirming in my tight hold. I loosened my grip, weakly cooing to calm her down. The last thing I needed was for her to start wailing.

"I'm calling to let you know-"
"My husband is missing. Got that." I wasn't trying to be harsh, but I was really trying not to cry.
"No, Sir."

I laughed humorlessly. "I don't understand. He's not dead, but he's MIA, but then he's also not Missing In Action. See my confusion?" I knew I was being rude, but I had to use cold humor in order to keep from completely breaking down. I shifted B, and her head fell onto my shoulder, drooling mindlessly.

"Sir, he had been missing. We found him."
I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, head tipping backwards, eyes closed. "So, he's OK?"
"Not-not exactly, Sir."
My hand tightened on the phone. "Then what," my breath hitched slightly, "is going on?"

*  *  *

"Oh, Will."

His head turned towards the door slowly, almost disbelieving, and I burst into tears, legs beginning to shake. 

"Hey."

"Hey? Hey!? Twelve f-ing months, and all I get is a "hey"?" I exclaim, holding our daughter tighter. She squirmed, but I ignored it in favor of staring at my husband in both relief and shock. Will smiled sheepishly, gaze being drawn to the wiggling blankets in my arms as his eyes lit up.

"Is that-?"

"Bianca Sarah Solace-Di Angelo," I whisper, choking on a sob as I finally stumble into the room, not bothering to close the door as I--carefully--fall into Will's outstretched arms. Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, I gently hand over our three month old daughter.
Now that I was closer, I could see just how haggard Will really was. He has dark circles under his eyes, the usual sparked barely there in his greying-blue eyes, the war obviously wearing him down. I swallow, looking at his hollow cheeks and the healing scratches along his jaw. Forcing my attention elsewhere, I watch as he cooed at our baby, her tiny hand reaching up and gripping his pinky, small fingers just barely wrapping all the way around.

I put a hand on his arm and he looks up at me, smiling that smile I fell in love with, and missed so very much.
I couldn't help it. I leaned forwards and kissed him, holding the back of his neck to keep him to me, silent tears escaping from under my closed eyelids.
Will nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away, resting his forehead against mine.

I hesitated. "I hear you're getting a purple heart."
"Yeah," Will pulled back looking pained, and I grasped his cheeks.
"No. No. No guilt, Will. You saved eight men, and lost your left leg in the process. No feeling guilty."
"I lost three soldiers, Nico," Will sniffled, burying his head in my shoulder.
"I know," I ran my hand through his hair soothingly, closing my eyes as the thought I could of lost you too ran through my head, before mentally slapping myself for thinking so selfishly. "I know."

"I love you," I heard him mumble before moving back as Bia shifted in his hold.
"I love you too. I'm glad you're not dead," I kissed him briefly.
"Yeah," He smiled slightly. "Yeah, me too."