Lucio's POV:

The first thing I became aware of was the noise—a relentless, piercing sound that felt like it was boring into my skull. My head throbbed, every nerve on edge. I couldn't understand what it was at first. It was distant but sharp, tugging at the frayed edges of my consciousness like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch.

A baby crying. That's what it was.

The realization hit me like a thunderclap, and suddenly, the sound was everywhere—inside my head, echoing through my mind. My fingers twitched against the cool sheet beneath them. I clenched them slowly, the motion sluggish, like moving through quicksand. My body felt alien, heavy, but the anger and frustration surged like a wildfire.

What the hell is that noise? I need it to stop.

My fingers curled again, this time stronger. My head throbbed with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. The darkness that had held me captive for weeks began to loosen its grip. My eyelids fluttered, resisting the light that stabbed at my senses. Slowly, painfully, I forced them open.

The world was a blur, swimming in dull grays and muted colors. My vision cleared gradually, and I blinked against the brightness of the room. Tubes and wires were everywhere, leading to monitors that beeped steadily beside me. I was in my room, but it felt different—sterile and oddly unfamiliar. A tang of antiseptic lingered in the air.

A cry. Louder now. More insistent. I turned my head, the motion slow and stiff, and there it was—a tiny form on the bed beside me.

A baby?

My breath hitched. My chest ached, not from injury, but from the overwhelming wave of confusion that hit me. What is happening?

My hands moved on their own, fumbling to remove the wires and tubes. The oxygen mask was the first to go, yanked off with a shaky hand. The rest followed as I gritted my teeth against the sudden sting in my chest and the stiffness in my limbs. The monitors shrieked in protest, their alarms filling the room. I ignored them.

I pushed myself upright, muscles trembling from disuse. My head spun, but I steadied myself against the bedframe. The crying pierced through everything, cutting straight to my already frayed nerves.

"Shut it," I muttered, though my voice came out hoarse and cracked, barely audible over the chaos. I winced at the sound of my own voice. How long had it been since I last spoke?

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, planting my feet on the cold floor. The sensation grounded me for a moment, but the dizziness returned when I tried to stand. I leaned against the bed, willing my body to obey.

The baby's cry softened momentarily, a hiccup in its rhythm, before resuming again, more insistent. My gaze locked onto the tiny bundle, wrapped in soft fabric, its small fists flailing. A flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in my chest—something I didn't have the strength to process right now.

I shuffled closer to the bed, each step a battle. My knees threatened to buckle, but I braced myself, inching forward. Reaching out, my hand trembled as it hovered over the baby, hesitant.

The crying stopped.

The silence was deafening, heavier than the noise had been. The baby's eyes blinked up at me, wide and curious, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the world went still. Time slowed, and everything—the pain, the anger, the confusion—faded into the background.

I stared down at the baby again, cradling him in my arms. His green-greyish eyes, so much like mine, blinked sleepily before fluttering closed. His tiny fist clutched at my shirt instinctively, and I couldn't help but marvel at how small he was. The weight of him in my arms felt... grounding, like the chaos of the last few months had finally stopped spinning, if only for a moment.

"Hey, little guy," I murmured, my voice raspier than I expected. "You're a fighter, huh? Just like your dad."

He shifted slightly, his lips parting as he sighed in his sleep. My chest ached, not from the wound or the coma, but from something deeper. This tiny human was a piece of me—a piece of Kate. It was surreal, and I wasn't sure if I deserved to hold him, but I couldn't let go either.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, inhaling his soft, powdery baby scent. "I'll protect you," I promised quietly. "No matter what."

Placing him carefully back on the bed, I watched him sleep for a moment longer before stepping back. My gaze flicked to the mirror across the room, and I grimaced at my reflection. My beard had grown out, my hair was disheveled, and I looked... feral. No wonder the baby smiled at me—he probably thought I was a clown.

"My breath probably stinks," I muttered to myself, running a hand over my face.

The realization hit me like a slap. Kate had given birth, but where was she? Why wasn't she here with the baby? My stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. Had something happened to her? Was she okay? My chest tightened with worry as I tried to piece together what might have happened while I was out.

I turned back to the sleeping baby, gently tucking the blanket around him. "Hang tight, kid. Dad's got some questions to answer."

I shuffled into the bathroom, the bright light making me wince. The man staring back at me in the mirror was a stranger. My face was hollow, my eyes sunken, my hair overgrown. I looked like Bigfoot had taken a vacation in a coma. Shaking my head, I grabbed a razor and started shaving, letting the warm water and the familiar routine steady me.

As I finished, I stared at myself in the mirror, running a hand over my now smooth face. It felt strange to see myself again, like I'd stepped into a life I didn't quite recognize. "Better," I muttered, though I wasn't entirely convinced.

After a quick shower, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. The scent of soap and fresh laundry felt almost like armor as I stepped back into the bedroom. The baby was still sound asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically.

I scooped him up gently, holding him close as I made my way upstairs. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made my skin crawl. No voices, no laughter, not even the distant hum of conversation. It felt wrong.

"Why is it so quiet?" I muttered under my breath, glancing around as I climbed the stairs. "Where the hell is everyone?"

Reaching the living room, I found it empty. The usually bustling space was still, like the house was holding its breath. I glanced out the window, searching for any sign of movement. The cars were gone.

"Figures," I muttered, adjusting the baby in my arms. "The one time I wake up, and everyone decides to disappear."

The baby stirred slightly, his tiny hand brushing against my chest, and I instinctively tightened my hold. "Guess it's just you and me for now, huh?" I whispered, the sound of my voice seeming too loud in the stillness.

Walking into the kitchen, I glanced at the counters and noticed a bottle of baby formula sitting next to a half-empty container. I grabbed it, heating the formula as I rocked him gently. The warmth of the bottle in my hand felt oddly comforting, a small task that kept the storm of questions at bay.

Once the bottle was ready, I sat at the kitchen table, holding him as he fed. His small mouth latched onto the bottle eagerly, his little fingers clutching at my hand. The sight made my throat tighten again, but I pushed the emotion down.

"You're hungry, huh?" I said softly, watching him. "Can't blame you. I bet your mom's been running herself ragged taking care of you." My voice cracked slightly, and I cleared my throat. "She's something else, your mom. You'll see."

The baby's eyes fluttered open for a moment, staring up at me with those green-greyish eyes that mirrored mine. For a second, I saw Kate in him too—her softness, her strength, her fire. It was overwhelming and humbling all at once.

As the baby stirred slightly in my arms, I climbed up the stairs, my steps quiet but deliberate. The house was still eerily silent, except for the soft sounds of his breathing. Reaching our bedroom door, I gently pushed it open. There she was—Kate, fast asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily.

My heart twisted. She looked exhausted, and it wasn't hard to imagine why. Carrying our child, giving birth, taking care of everything while I'd been in that coma... she'd been through hell. And I hadn't been there to help her.

Walking over to the bed, I smiled despite myself. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. Her hair was splayed across the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Even in her exhaustion, she was radiant. I sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her. The baby stirred again in my arms, his tiny fingers brushing against me as if grounding me to the moment.

Using my free hand, I gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, my fingers grazing her cheek. Her skin was warm, soft. A smile tugged at her lips, and my heart swelled.

As I pulled my hand away, her expression shifted, her face falling into a soft frown. The sight nearly broke me. Leaning closer, I whispered softly in her ear, my voice hoarse but full of emotion. "I'm here, love. I promised you I'd come back to you."

Her frown melted into a smile, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she stared at me as if unsure whether she was dreaming. Her grey eyes filled with unshed tears, and her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She moved as if to cry, but I shook my head gently, stopping her.

"No tears," I said quietly, reaching out to cup her cheek. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

She sat up slowly, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she stared at me, her eyes darting between my face and the baby in my arms. "Lucio," she finally whispered, her voice trembling. "You're awake."

I nodded, my throat tightening. "Yeah, I'm awake," I managed, my voice thick. "And I see we have a little visitor."

A choked laugh escaped her, a mix of relief and disbelief. "You don't know how much I've prayed for this moment," she said, reaching out to touch my arm as if afraid I'd vanish.

I shifted the baby slightly in my arms, his tiny features soft and relaxed in sleep. "I couldn't let you handle all this alone," I said, my voice soft but firm. "He needs me. You need me. And I need you both."

Her hand flew to her mouth again, her shoulders shaking as she tried to contain her emotions. "He's... he's beautiful, isn't he?" she whispered, her voice cracking.

I looked down at our son, his tiny form nestled against me. "Beautiful doesn't even cover it," I replied, my gaze shifting back to her. "He looks just like you."

She shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "He looks like you, Lucio. He has your eyes, your nose—everything."

"But he has your lips," I said, grinning. "And that means he'll have your fire too."

Kate laughed, the sound like music to my ears. Her fingers brushed against the baby's small hand, her expression softening further. "He's the reason you woke up," she said quietly, her voice filled with wonder. "Your son... your son brought you back."

I swallowed hard, emotion clawing at my throat. "Then he's already a miracle," I whispered, looking at her. "Just like his mom."

She reached out to touch my face, her palm warm against my cheek. "I missed you so much," she murmured, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I didn't know if... if you'd ever come back to me."

I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes briefly. "I promised you I'd come back," I said, opening my eyes to meet hers. "And I always keep my promises."

The commotion downstairs was getting louder, echoing through the halls like an orchestra of chaos. From the heavy footsteps to the panic-laden shouts, it was clear they were convinced I was missing. Hasley's voice rang out, sharp with terror. "I think someone kidnapped Lucio! He's not in the room!"

More yelling followed as the realization set in.

"Everyone, search the place!" Michen barked, his voice booming with authority.

"Are we going to kill someone today? I've got a thirst for blood," Steven added, his voice disturbingly eager.

I chuckled softly to myself. These guys always had a flair for the dramatic. From where I stood in the closet, hidden behind the coats, I could hear the chaos spreading like wildfire.

"Are we going to let them cause chaos throughout the house?" Kate's voice filtered through the door. There was a note of exasperation laced with amusement. I could imagine her shaking her head.

I smirked to myself, picturing the scene. "Not yet," I thought. I had a little fun planned before revealing myself.

"I can't find him!" Steven shouted, his voice rising in panic. "I don't want Kate to get worried!"

"Fuck, fuck, I can't do this," Michen yelled, frustration seeping into his voice. "Extend the search! NOW!"

Kate sighed audibly, her calm demeanor contrasting starkly with the panic around her. "You're all going to tear the place apart for no reason," she muttered. Then, quieter, she murmured to the baby, likely trying to keep herself composed for him.

Just outside the door, I heard whispering. Hasley and Joseph were conspiring, clearly not aware that I was well within earshot.

"How are we going to tell her?" Joseph asked nervously.

"Let's just check to see if she's aware he's gone first," Hasley suggested, her voice hesitant.

As they opened the door, I quickly ducked further into the closet, making sure to stay out of sight. I peered through the gap between the coats, watching their every move.

Hasley offered Kate a nervous smile. "Hey, Kate. How are you doing?"

Kate narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly catching onto their strange behavior. "Fine. Why?"

Joseph got straight to the point, ignoring Hasley's glare. "Have you seen Lucio?"

Kate blinked, clearly thrown off by the question. "Why would I have to see him? Isn't he in his room?"

Hasley fidgeted. "We think someone kidnapped him," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper.

Kate straightened up, her expression hardening. "Why would you think that? He's in no state to go anywhere on his own. How could anyone have gotten past the guards?"

It was time to end their wild theories. I stepped out of the closet, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "How are you all so sure I didn't just wake up?"

Hasley shrieked, jumping nearly a foot in the air. Joseph let out a startled yelp before laughing nervously.

"Lucio!" Hasley exclaimed, lunging forward to throw her arms around me.

The door burst open as the rest of the group rushed in. Their expressions morphed from shock to sheer relief in an instant. Steven was the first to react, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug.

"You're awake, you stubborn bastard!" he exclaimed, his grin splitting his face.

Michen slapped me on the back, his usual stoic expression melting into one of genuine relief. "Good to have you back, King."

The others piled on, hugs and slaps on the back flying from every direction. Their joy was palpable, filling the room with a warmth I hadn't felt in weeks.

Through it all, my eyes searched for Kate. She stood at the edge of the room, her smile soft and relieved. But she didn't rush forward like the others. She just watched, her eyes misty with unshed tears.

Joseph's voice pulled me back to the moment. "So, when did you wake up? It's been, what, a month since you've been in a coma?" He fired off the questions rapidly, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yeah, something like that," I replied, my voice a little hoarse. "I woke up a couple of hours ago."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Hasley scolded, punching me lightly on the arm.

As I stood there, arms crossed, glaring at my so-called "family," their guilty expressions told me everything I needed to know.

"Well, we, uh..." Jordan stammered, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the nonsense they were about to spew. "So, you guys thought it'd be a brilliant idea to leave Kate here, alone, right after she gave birth? To go to a movie?" My voice was dangerously calm, but the weight of my anger was enough to make everyone shuffle uncomfortably.

"Who told you?" Jordan tried again, his voice barely above a whisper.

I bent down and picked up a crumpled movie ticket that Hasley had dropped during her overly dramatic hug. "Well, this little piece of evidence speaks volumes." I smirked, holding up the ticket for everyone to see. The collective winces were satisfying, but not enough to quell my irritation.

"Lucio, it's not what it looks like—" Steven began, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"So, you're telling me that Emerald and Michen were here the entire time?" My tone was sharp as I locked eyes with Steven.

"Well..." Steven hesitated, glancing nervously at the others. "They were here, but—"

"But they were too busy making out in his room to bother checking on my son or Kate?" I finished for him, my voice rising. The uncomfortable silence confirmed it.

"Thought so," I said, shaking my head. "Don't act so surprised. You think I didn't hear them on my way upstairs?"

Emerald's face flushed bright red as she elbowed Michen. He cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding my gaze.

"And you," I turned to Hasley, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. "You think I don't know about you and Caleb? Still sneaking around like teenagers?"

Her mouth opened in shock, and for a moment, I thought she might deny it, but then she sighed and shrugged. "We weren't exactly subtle, were we?"

"Nope," I said flatly. "But for what it's worth, I approve. Now, all of you—out."

"Wait, you approve?" Hasley looked genuinely surprised.

"Yes," I replied, gesturing toward the door. "Now leave before I change my mind."

The group hesitated, exchanging unsure glances, but they didn't dare disobey me. They shuffled out, mumbling apologies, and I slammed the door shut behind them just as I heard Jordan shout, "Finally, he's back!" followed by cheers and laughter from the hallway.

I turned back to the room, sighing deeply. Kate was lying on the bed, her back to me, eerily quiet throughout the entire scene. Her silence wasn't comforting—it gnawed at me.

I approached her side and gently lay down beside her. Pulling her close, I felt the tension in her body melt away slightly as she turned toward me. She buried her face in my chest, and the sound of her soft sobs broke something in me.

"I'm so sorry, Kate," I murmured, stroking her hair and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry for everything. I never meant for you to go through this alone."

Her tears soaked into my shirt as I continued rubbing small circles on her back, whispering reassurances into her ear. She clung to me like I was her lifeline, and in that moment, I realized how much I'd taken for granted.

"I thought I'd lost you," she choked out, her voice muffled against my chest.

"You didn't," I said firmly. "I promised you I'd come back, and I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, Kate. Ever."