vitals: still yours - choi seungcheol imagine PART THREE FINALE
surprise?😅when i said i had to make it into parts i technically never mentioned how many... so yea. when i wrote this i already knew how i wanted it to end, it took me soooo long to get there but i just knew it was going to be worth it. and here we are🤍 tysm for all the love you've given this story, this was by far the longest and most challenging one 😊😅 (i had to look up medical terms while writing this bcs my type A brain refuses to post it without fact checking)😭 HOPE YOU LIKE IT!
PART ONE | PART TWO
for my other svt fics, check them here
alsoooo i have a kofi acc, if anyone wants to send some coffee thank u in advance😊🌻🤍
All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2026 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
The second Seungcheol stepped through the door, the apartment welcomed him with the kind of chaos he never thought he’d love. Pink plastic tiaras scattered on the coffee table, a trail of glitter stickers stuck to the floor, and a mountain of stuffed animals piled high on the couch.
He didn’t even have time to shrug his coat off before he heard it tiny feet pounding against the hardwood, followed by the loudest, happiest, “APPA!”
Eunji came barreling toward him, tutu bouncing, plastic wand clutched tight in her fist. She practically launched herself at his legs, and he barely managed to catch her before she toppled both of them over.
“Whoa,” he laughed, scooping her up with one arm like it was the most natural thing in the world “Slow down, princess, Appa’s still wearing his shoes.”
“Appa! Look!” She shoved the wand in his face, eyes sparkling “I made you magic. You can’t work anymore, only play!”
“Is that so? Who made these rules?”
“Me!” Eunji declared proudly, before planting a big, messy kiss on his cheek.
That’s when you appeared from the hallway, hair pulled back, comfortable at home but still stunning in a way that never failed to knock the air out of him. Hands on your hips, you gave your daughter the kind of look only a mother could.
“Eunji, let Appa rest first,” you said, your voice a gentle scold even though your lips were twitching like you wanted to smile
“But he has to see my castle!” she argued immediately, tugging at his tie now
Seungcheol, still holding her with one arm, looked over at you, lips curving into that soft smile he reserved for his family “It’s fine,” he said, pressing a kiss to the crown of Eunji’s head “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”
And truthfully, he had. No matter how long, how tiring, or how brutal work got, this chaos the pink, the glitter, the clingy little girl and the woman who kept both of them together, this was the life he thought he’d lost once.
But now? It was his favorite part of every single day.
By the time Seungcheol finally dragged himself into your shared bedroom, it was already almost midnight. Eunji had demanded three bedtime stories, two glasses of water, and at least one very elaborate pink blanket fort before she even considered closing her eyes.
You were curled up in bed, scrolling idly on your phone, and the moment he flopped face-first onto the mattress beside you, you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You spoil her too much, baby,” you teased, setting your phone down
He rolled his head toward you, hair a little messy, tie discarded somewhere along the hallway. Slowly he crawled closer, stretching his long body until he was half on top of you, his weight sinking you into the mattress. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, his voice muffled but teasing, “I spoil you too… every night.”
That smirk. That low, smug tone.
You smacked his shoulder lightly “That the line you use to get in my pants?”
He laughed against your skin, the vibrations tickling your collarbone. Then, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded but playful, he murmured, “Baby, you’re not even wearing pants to bed.” His palm slid down the side of your thigh, brushing over bare skin, proving his point.
Your lips parted in mock offense “You—Choi Seungcheol—”
But whatever scolding you had lined up vanished when he dipped down, kissing your jaw, then your cheek, then finally your mouth. Slow at first, like he was savoring the taste of finally being with you after the exhausting bedtime battle.
You sighed against him, your hands automatically finding his shirt, tugging it open at the buttons until your fingertips grazed the warmth of his chest. His lips curved into a smile at your eagerness, deepening the kiss, tongue teasing until you gasped.
“See?” he whispered against your lips, smirk tugging at the corners “Spoiling you already.”
Your hand slid down, tracing the sharp lines of his waist, making him groan low in his throat. His grip tightened on your hip, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you harder, the heat between you both sparking fast.
You broke the kiss with a soft laugh, breathless already “You’re ridiculous.”
“Mm,” he hummed, mouth moving down your neck, sucking lightly until you gasped again, “and you love it.” His teeth scraped gently, his tongue soothing after, leaving a mark he knew you’d glare at him for in the morning.
One kiss turned into more, until you both made mess of the sheets.
You’re slumped over his chest, panting, skin sticky against his. He presses kisses to your temple, your jaw, your shoulder. His lips everywhere like he can’t get enough.
Your body melts into him, cheek pressed to his chest, his heartbeat still thundering under your ear. Both of you are sticky, overheated, but neither makes the effort to move. You just breathe him in, skin to skin, utterly spent.
Seungcheol’s chest rises with a chuckle, low and warm against your ear. His palm slides down your spine, soothing lazy strokes even though his body still trembles from aftershocks
“Thought we wanted to be safe,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips grazing the crown of your head “Remember that little talk? Eunji’s still a handful and we said five years, baby. Five.”
You hum, tired but still smug, lips brushing his collarbone “Mhm. You didn’t stop me though.”
That earns you a short huff of laughter, and you feel his chest shake beneath you. He tilts his head back against the pillow, eyes closing like he’s too worn to argue but too amused to let it go. His hand comes up, threading into your messy hair, tugging gently until you lift your head enough to meet his gaze.
“You’re impossible,” he sighs, though there’s a grin tugging at his lips. His thumb strokes along your jaw, soft but firm “You climbed on me like that, all messy and needy, and you think I was gonna stop you? Baby, I barely survived that.”
“So it’s my fault then?”
He smirks, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours, voice dipping lower “Always has been.”
You swat at his chest weakly, but he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. The gesture is so tender it makes your heart ache. He doesn’t let go, keeping your hand pinned against his chest like he’s anchoring himself to you.
“Still,” he murmurs after a moment, more serious now, his gaze dropping to your swollen lips before flicking back to your eyes. “If… if anything happens, you tell me, yeah? We’ll figure it out together. No more keeping things from me.”
The words settle heavy, but his tone is soft, not accusing—just a quiet plea. His thumb circles over the back of your hand, grounding.
You nod against him, whispering, “Okay, Cheol.”
For a moment, it’s just the two of you breathing in sync. He kisses your forehead, then your temple, then back down to your lips in a soft, slow press.
“You wore me out,” you mumble into his mouth, eyes half-shut.
“Good,” he murmurs back with a smirk, shifting slightly so you’re caged tighter in his arms. “Now sleep. I’ll keep you warm.”
And with your body heavy against his and his heartbeat steady under your palm, you do.
=
Weeks later.
The moment Seungcheol stepped out of the boardroom, loosening his tie, he finally checked his phone and froze.
ER: Patient Choi Y/N brought in. Syncope.
Every word blurred for a second. His throat closed, heart slamming into his ribs. He didn’t remember pushing past people in the hallway, didn’t register the nurses trying to greet him. He just moved fast, almost frantic until he reached the ER bay where they’d wheeled you in.
You were pale, an IV line already taped to your arm, a monitor beeping steadily at your side. He swallowed hard, every part of him screaming my wife before the doctor in him took over.
“What happened?” His voice was sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t help it
The attending looked up from the chart “She collapsed while out. Vitals are stable now. We’ve run her labs, and imaging was clear. Likely cause is—”
“I’ll see it.” He didn’t wait for permission. He stepped right past the younger doctor and picked up your chart, eyes darting through the notes, pulse hammering harder with every line he read.
He shouldn’t be doing this, he knew that. Conflict of interest. Husband first. But he couldn’t stop himself. He scanned every number, every scribble, like if he missed something, he’d fail you.
And then he saw it. One value, circled by the attending. His breath caught.
He checked again. And again.
The resident nearby must’ve noticed his expression because they shifted nervously “Dr. Choi—”
But Seungcheol had already moved, dropping the file onto the counter before striding to your bedside. He crouched down, his big hand wrapping around yours. His thumb pressed into your knuckles like he needed to feel you warm, alive, right there.
Your lashes fluttered, and when your gaze finally focused, you whispered, voice groggy, “Cheol…?”
That one word nearly undid him.
“I’m here,” he murmured, softer now, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. He smoothed your hair back gently, leaning close “God, baby, you scared the hell out of me.”
“I just… felt dizzy,” you mumbled, trying to shift but he pressed your shoulder lightly, keeping you still.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. half chief, half husband “Labs are back. I’ve seen them.”
You blinked at him, confusion knitting your brows “Is it bad?”
He exhaled slowly, chest tight. “Not bad. Not… that.” He glanced around the room, as if debating whether to say it here, then bent down closer, lowering his voice just for you.
“You’re pregnant.”
The words hit the air between you, heavy, impossible, stunning.
Your lips parted, eyes wide “…what?”
He searched your face, his own torn between awe, worry, and the kind of fragile hope he didn’t dare let spill “Positive beta-hCG. It wasn’t a faint line either. Baby… you’re—” He swallowed, pressing your hand to his mouth, his voice cracking for just a second“You’re carrying our second.”
Seungcheol barely gave you a second to process before he was moving again. One hand still holding yours tight, the other signaling to the attending.
“I want an ultrasound scheduled. Full prenatal labs, thyroid, iron, electrolytes—run them again. Get OB in here, now. And make sure her hydration status is closely onitored, bolus another 500 if her pressure dips.” His tone was sharp, commanding, the weight of Chief Choi in full force.
The resident scribbled frantically while the attending nodded, already paging OB.
You groaned softly, squeezing his hand. “Cheol… I just woke up, don’t—don’t bulldoze them like that.”
He turned immediately, crouching down beside you again, his expression softening though his jaw stayed tense “You fainted in the middle of the street. You’re carrying our baby. Forgive me if I’m not exactly calm about this.” His thumb brushed over your ring, grounding himself. “I’m not leaving anything to chance this time.”
You blinked at him, that this time hanging in the air between you. He didn’t flinch. His other hand came up to cradle your face, eyes locked on yours.
“I wasn’t there when Eunji came into this world. I didn’t hold your hand when you needed me most. Not again. I don’t care if I have to pull rank every damn day. You and our baby will be safe. Do you hear me?”
You couldn’t help the tiny laugh that slipped through. “You’re so bossy when you’re scared.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t deny it “Then get used to it,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before straightening, his arm instinctively shielding you even as he barked more instructions to the staff.
Dr. Bae herself came in, clipboard tucked under her arm, her reputation preceding her. The head of OB, calm but authoritative, the kind of doctor who rarely ever gets flustered. She greeted you warmly, then looked up only to find Seungcheol already standing like a sentry by your bed, arms folded, surgical mask tugged under his chin.
“Chief Choi,” she said lightly, her brows arching “Didn’t realize you were part of my department now.”
He didn’t budge. “She’s my wife,” he answered evenly, gaze flicking to you as if to remind everyone in the room. “And I’m not taking any chances. You’ll run all the scans personally.”
You flushed, fumbling, “Babe— you don’t have to—” You shot Dr. Bae an apologetic look. “Sorry, he’s—um—like this.”
Dr. Bae’s lips curved into something like a smirk, though her tone was professional. “I’ve worked with him long enough to know he’s like this.” She snapped on gloves “Let’s get started.”
The room dimmed as the ultrasound probe glided into place. You lay back nervously, eyes darting between the screen and Seungcheol. He was watching the monitor like his entire world was on it. His hand wrapped around yours so tightly you thought you might lose circulation.
“There,” Dr. Bae said softly, pointing “Gestational sac visible, early but intact. No signs of hemorrhage or detachment. Measurements line up with about five weeks.” She paused, turning to Seungcheol “She’s fine. The baby’s fine.”
His jaw tightened, shoulders sagging in relief but he still wasn’t done “Bloodwork?”
“Stable. Slight iron deficiency, which is normal. We’ll start her on prenatals.” Dr. Bae gave you a kind smile, then looked at him with something close to amusement
“She doesn’t need the chief of surgery breathing down everyone’s neck for every test. What she needs is rest. And less stress.”
You groaned, covering your face with your free hand “Cheol, did you hear that?”
Dr. Bae chuckled softly as she removed her gloves. “Congratulations to both of you. I’ll leave you to it.”
The moment she left, Seungcheol was already pulling his phone out. “I’m calling off the rest of the day. No meetings, no rounds. I’m taking you home.”
“Cheol—”
He shot you that sharp, immovable look that used to terrify interns. “Don’t even argue.” He was already helping you sit up, already telling the nurse to bring the discharge papers faster.
And true to his word, an hour later you were in his car, a blanket tucked around you as if you’d break at any second. His hand never left yours on the drive, thumb brushing circles over your palm.
When you finally got home, he carried your bag himself, guided you to the couch like you couldn’t walk on your own.
You sighed, trying not to smile “You’re going overboard.”
He crouched in front of you, taking both your hands in his. His dark eyes searched yours, voice soft but firm “Maybe. But you and our baby—” he paused, swallowing hard, “—you’re everything. I’m not risking a damn thing.”
=
It had become a running joke between you two. How your once-scary chief of surgery husband now spent half his free time chasing you around with snacks like an overgrown mother hen.
You were curled sideways on the couch, one hand absently resting on your belly. Eighteen weeks now. The small swell there was finally obvious, and Seungcheol’s palm had developed a habit of finding it without thinking. He came out of the kitchen with a small plate and an even smaller scowl.
“You didn’t finish lunch,” he said, setting it on the coffee table like evidence “Dr. Bae said you need to keep small meals in you even if it’s hard.”
You groaned, burying your face into a pillow “It’s literally three bites of fruit and crackers, Cheol. I’ll eat in a bit.”
“Nope,” he said immediately, kneeling down in front of you “I warned you, remember? I will spoon-feed you if I have to.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Try me.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
He took advantage of your laughter, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before offering the bite of fruit. You gave him a pointed look but opened your mouth anyway. He made an exaggerated “good job” face when you chewed, which made you laugh harder.
“You’re worse than Eunji,” he muttered.
“She listens better than you do, do I need to start bribing you with stickers too?”
You swatted at his shoulder, but his hand stayed warm and steady against your thigh, thumb rubbing slow circles. “I just… I hate seeing you like this,” he said more softly. “Tired. Sick. I know Dr. Bae keeps telling me it’s normal, but…” He trailed off, looking down at your belly again.
You caught his chin and made him look at you “Hey. I’m okay. This baby’s okay. You don’t have to hover every second.”
“I know but I didn’t get to do this with you before. I’m doing it now, and I’m not letting you feel alone for even a minute.”
Something in your chest squeezed at his words. You reached up, threading your fingers into his hair until his forehead rested against yours “You’re already doing so much,” you whispered.
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Then let me do more. Let me spoil you.”
“Cheol,” you murmured, cheeks warm
“Yes?”
“Hand me another cracker before you get all sappy on me.”
His laugh rumbled against your skin, and for a moment the whole apartment felt softer, lighter—just you, him, and the baby between you.
The morning was chaos the second Seungcheol’s alarm went off.
You were still wrapped up in the blanket, refusing to budge, when the bedroom door burst open and a small whirlwind in pink pajamas climbed right on top of him.
“Appaaaaa, wake up!” Eunji squealed, tugging at his arm.
Seungcheol grunted, dragging a hand down his face before scooping her up with practiced ease “Baby, it’s six-thirty. Why are you already bouncing off the walls?”
“Because I’m not sleepy! And I want pancakes!” she declared, grinning
You peeked out from under the blanket, groaning “She got that from you, you know.”
Seungcheol smirked, dropping a kiss on Eunji’s cheek before glancing at you “And you got the morning grumpiness, jagi.”
Eunji giggled like she knew she was being spoiled, wrapping her arms around his neck “Pancakes, Appa. With chocolate chips.”
“Okay, okay.” He got out of bed with her still clinging to him, striding to the kitchen like it was nothing “But only if eomma eats some too.”
Twenty minutes later, you were glaring at the plate he set in front of you. Pancakes. Syrup. A tiny bowl of fruit on the side.
“I can’t,” you groaned “Cheol, even the smell—”
“You ate strawberries yesterday,” he interrupted, sliding down beside you on the seat
“Yesterday, not today. Today my body hates everything.”
“You’re worse than Eunji,” he muttered, pinching your cheek gently “She actually eats the food I make her.”
Right on cue, Eunji waddled over from the table with chocolate smeared on her lips, proudly showing off her empty plate. “All done, Appa!”
Seungcheol laughed, lifting her up onto his lap “Good job, princess. You’re the only one who listens to me.” He shot you a pointed look, to which you stuck your tongue out.
Eunji gasped “Eomma, no! Appa says that’s rude!”
Seungcheol chuckled, kissing the top of her head “Exactly. Listen to Eunji, jagi. She’s the boss now.”
You groaned dramatically, flopping against the couch “Two against one, huh? I didn’t sign up for this.”
“You did,” he whispered, voice warm. “The day you married me.”
Eunji wrinkled her nose “Eww, Appa, don’t kiss eomma when I’m right here!”
You were still stubbornly poking at the plate, nose scrunched up like a sulking child, when Eunji slid off her little chair and padded over to the couch.
Her big curious eyes zeroed in on the untouched bowl of strawberries at your side “Eomma… can I have some of that?” she asked sweetly, already reaching
Before you could even answer, Seungcheol swooped in like a hawk “Nope.” He scooped her up with one arm, settling her on his hip, his other hand firmly tugging the fruit bowl out of her reach.
Eunji pouted, kicking her legs “But Appa, I want it! eomma don’t want it anyway!”
Seungcheol’s gaze sharpened, his voice firm but gentle. “Eomma needs that for the baby.” Then, softening, he tapped the tip of her nose. “And didn’t you already eat your strawberries, hmm? I saw you. Don’t think I missed you sneaking extras.”
Eunji crossed her arms with all the drama of a three-year-old “But eomma’s not eating it…”
“Because it tastes like cardboard today.”
Seungcheol let out a long-suffering sigh, shifting Eunji so she was balanced comfortably on his lap while he sat back down beside you. “You two are gonna drive me insane. One eats everything, the other eats nothing.” He gave you a look, then flicked his eyes to your daughter. “Guess which one’s which.”
Eunji giggled, burying her face in his shirt.
You cracked one eye open at him “You really gonna guilt trip your pregnant wife?”
“I’m not guilt tripping. I’m just…” He lifted a strawberry and held it to your lips, expression annoyingly soft. “…reminding you that you’re not eating for one anymore.”
Eunji gasped like she was in on some big secret, tiny hand patting your belly “The baby eats too, eomma!”
You couldn’t help it you laughed, even as you reluctantly opened your mouth and let Seungcheol pop the strawberry in “Fine,” you muttered, chewing slowly.
Seungcheol smirked, victorious. “See? Not so bad.”
“Don’t get cocky. I still hate you.”
Eunji immediately gasped again, scandalized “Eommaaa, no! Appa made you food!”
Seungcheol laughed so hard he nearly toppled her off his lap, kissing her messy hair. “That’s my girl. Always defending Appa.”
“Traitor,” you grumbled, but your smile betrayed you.
Then comes evening. Dinner had barely started and already Seungcheol’s jaw was ticking. He was watching you glare at your plate like it had personally insulted you. Never mind the fact that he’d let you order exactly what you said you were craving this afternoon andnow, faced with it, you looked like a sulky kid in detention.
He set his chopsticks down slowly, arms crossing over his chest. “Okay. What did you eat when you were pregnant with Eunji?”
You scowled, stabbing at a piece of chicken but not lifting it “Told you—nothing. I’d eat an apple on a good day, but everything else was just… ugh.” You shuddered for emphasis, pushing the plate away an inch
His brows shot up. “Nothing?” His voice went up half an octave, hands dropping back to the table
You blinked at him, caught between offended and amused “Wow. You really gonna lecture me like I’m one of your residents right now?”
He leaned in, eyes narrowing, voice sharp with exasperation. “If that’s what it takes, then yes. Do you want me to pull out the research? The studies? Because I will.”
You groaned, flopping dramatically back against the chair. “God, you’re worse than my mother.”
“Good,” he shot back instantly, reaching over to push the plate back toward you “At least your mother got you to listen once in a while.”
Your mouth dropped open“Choi Seungcheol, are you nagging me right now?”
He pointed at you with his chopsticks, tone firm “Yes. Because you clearly didn’t take care of yourself last time, and I’m not letting you do that again. You’re my wife, you’re carrying our baby, and you’re going to eat.”
Your lips twitched despite your best effort to glare “You’re kind of hot when you’re bossy, you know that?”
“Don’t change the subject. Bite.”
You rolled your eyes but leaned forward, opening your mouth with exaggerated slowness. He fed you a piece of chicken, watching like a hawk as you chewed.
When you swallowed, you deadpanned, “Happy now, Appa?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation, smug as hell “Eat more.”
You scowled again, muttering under your breath, but you did pick up your chopsticks.
Across the table, Eunji who’d been quietly munching on rice looked between the two of you and giggled “Eomma, Appa’s funny when he scolds you.”
=
By 38 weeks, Seungcheol was a whole different level of restless. If you so much as shifted in bed at night, he was instantly half-awake, murmuring, “Contraction? Is it time?” And every time you sighed, bent down to tie your shoes, or even paused mid-step, he’d immediately have one hand at your back, the other hovering like he could shield you from gravity itself.
Dr. Bae had reassured you both at your last checkup: “Baby’s strong, position’s good, any day now. Everything looks perfect.” But that only made Seungcheol worse.
He had everything covered. The hospital bag by the door had been triple-checked. His phone was always on full charge, two power banks ready. Jeonghan had been ordered to be on-call for backup with Eunji.
And because he was chief, he had already made sure his own suite was prepped at the hospital extra monitors, private nurses handpicked, even the anesthesiologist briefed personally.
When you teased him about it “Cheol, you realize not everyone has a VIP setup like this, right?” he only gave you that firm, no-nonsense look.
“What’s the point of my title if I can’t use it for my family? You and the baby get the best, end of story.”
You chuckled, shaking your head “Plan A, B, C all lined up, huh?”
“Baby,” he deadpanned, rubbing your swollen belly with a gentleness that contrasted how intimidating he could be at work, “I’ve got plans until Z. If your water breaks at home, I’ve mapped out the fastest route. If it happens while we’re out, I know which ER we’ll head to first. If I’m in surgery—”
You cut him off, snorting, “Then you’ll break hospital policy and scrub out.”
“Damn right I will.”
And then, as if on cue, Eunji came toddling in with her little pink bag slung over her shoulder “Appa, I’m ready for the baby. I packed my toys.”
You peeked inside. Two crayons, a cookie, and her favorite bunny. You burst out laughing while Seungcheol crouched to her level, brushing her hair back “Perfect, princess. That’s exactly what eomma and baby will need.”
“See? Even Eunji’s more prepared than you, baby.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart ached with how much he had thrown himself into this, into being a husband, a father, a man who once thought he lost it all, now determined to never falter again.
Of course it had to happen on one of his surgery days. You were timing the contractions, not too close together, but enough that you knew it wasn’t just the usual late-pregnancy aches. Seungcheol had been adamant for weeks: “If anything happens when I’m not there, you call Jeonghan first. He’ll know what to do until I get to you.”
So you did.
When Jeonghan arrived, Eunji clutching her little bunny beside you, you met him at the door with your hospital bag already slung over your shoulder.
“Okay,” Jeonghan said, eyes narrowing as he looked you up and down, “this looks real.”
You shook your head firmly, forcing a smile “Not yet. Don’t call him until we’re at the hospital and Dr. Bae confirms it. He has a surgery. I don’t want him distracted.”
“Distracted?” Jeonghan snorted, helping you down the hall as Eunji trotted along with her tiny backpack “You’re in labor. You are the surgery.”
“Jeonghan, I’m serious.” You gripped his arm as another wave rolled through, breathing through it “We don’t even know if these are the real ones yet. If you call him now, he’ll scrub out. And you know it.”
He exhaled hard through his nose, muttering, “You’re both impossible.” But he didn’t call, just adjusted your bag on his shoulder and glanced down at Eunji “Alright, bestie, let’s get eomma and baby checked, yeah?”
“Yeah!” Eunji chirped, not fully grasping the situation, but clearly proud to be part of the mission. She held onto Jeonghan’s other hand, practically bouncing as you all made your way out.
By the time you got into the car, Eunji was singing to her bunny in the back seat, Jeonghan was white-knuckling the steering wheel, and you were gripping your belly through another contraction, whispering to yourself: Please, just let me get settled before Cheol finds out.
Because you knew. The second he did, the calm, terrifyingly efficient Chief Choi would throw every protocol out the window, and all you’d see is your husband the man who couldn’t stand the idea of missing even a second of this.
The ride to the hospital was a blur. your head pressed back against the seat, one hand on your belly as Eunji chattered away in the back. Jeonghan kept glancing between the road and you, muttering to himself like a man running triage without a license.
When you finally reached the hospital, a nurse already had a wheelchair waiting. Eunji toddled beside you, still holding her bunny, her eyes wide as she took in the bustle of the ER.
Inside, Dr. Bae herself was waiting, calm and poised as ever “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
You were guided to a room, Jeonghan helping you settle. Eunji sat in the corner chair, swinging her legs, clearly confused but obedient under Jeonghan’s watchful eye. The check was quick, clinical, and Dr. Bae’s soft smile told you everything.
“You’re three centimeters dilated,” she said, stripping off her gloves “This is active labor. We’ll admit you and monitor. Baby’s doing well—heartbeat strong.”
You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily. This was it.
From beside you, Jeonghan crossed his arms, smirking. “Three centimeters. That’s not a drill anymore. I’m calling him.”
“Jeonghan, wait—”
He held up a hand, his tone mock-sweet but eyes sharp “Sweetheart, I love you, but I am not about to be responsible for Choi Seungcheol murdering me in cold blood because I knew you were in labor and didn’t tell him. He’s probably done with surgery by now anyway.”
You groaned, leaning back against the pillows. You hated that he was right “Fine. But—don’t make it dramatic. Please.”
“Me?” He scoffed, already fishing his phone from his pocket “I’m subtle.”
The surgery had gone well. He peeled off his gloves, rinsing his hands in the scrub room, the adrenaline still buzzing faintly in his veins. Another successful operation. Another life saved.
He was halfway to tugging off his mask when he froze. Jeonghan.
Standing right outside the OR doors, on his day off.
That alone was unusual. Jeonghan didn’t set foot in the hospital unless he absolutely had to. And the look on his face wasn’t casual; it was too carefully neutral.
Seungcheol’s stomach sank “What are you doing here?”
Jeonghan straightened, sliding his hands into his pockets “Before you panic—”
Seungcheol’s blood ran cold “Where is she?”
“She’s fine.” Jeonghan lifted his hands quickly “They’re fine. But she’s three centimeters. Irene admitted her an hour ago.”
Seungcheol’s heart stopped, then lurched forward so hard it almost hurt “What—”
“I drove her here,” Jeonghan cut in, calm but firm “Eunji’s with her too. Don’t worry—she’s not alone. But, Cheol…” He gave a little shrug, smirk tugging at his mouth despite the seriousness “I had no choice. She made me swear not to call you until it was confirmed. You know how she is.”
For a moment, Seungcheol just stood there, chest heaving, water dripping from his hands onto the floor. Three centimeters. She was already in labor. And he hadn’t been there.
Without a word, he ripped off his mask, tossed it in the bin, and started down the hall in long, purposeful strides.
“Cheol—” Jeonghan called after him, jogging to keep up “She didn’t want you distracted during surgery. That’s why she didn’t—”
“I don’t care,” Seungcheol ground out, his voice low, shaking with barely leashed panic and fury. “She’s my wife. My baby. Nothing—nothing—comes before that.”
He was already moving, fast and unrelenting, hospital staff pausing as the sight of Chief Choi barreled through the corridor, scrubs still damp, jaw tight.
Because Seungcheol had missed too many firsts already in his life. He was not—ever—going to miss this.
The door to your room flew open so fast it slammed against the stopper. Both men barreled in at once, Jeonghan looking smug but slightly winded, and Seungcheol… Seungcheol looked like a man who’d just run through hell itself.
Your husband was still in scrubs, hair damp at the temples, chest rising and falling as if he’d sprinted from the OR to here without stopping. His eyes locked on you immediately, on your pale face against the pillows, your swollen belly under the blanket, your hand pressed protectively there.
“Appaaaaa!” Eunji squealed, bouncing off her chair “Appa! Baby’s coming!” She scrambled up from her seat excitedly
Seungcheol’s knees almost gave out with relief at the sight. He stalked forward, brushing past Jeonghan without sparing him a glance, his big hands already framing your face.
“Baby. Are you okay? How bad are the contractions? Did they check you? What did Dr. Bae say?”
You blinked up at him, startled at the sheer storm of him “Cheol—”
“I told her,” Jeonghan muttered from the corner, hands raised like a man who’d done his best “I told her not to make me the messenger. She made me wait until Irene confirmed—”
Seungcheol whipped his head toward him, eyes sharp as scalpels “You let her get to three centimeters before you told me?”
“I tried,” Jeonghan retorted, completely unbothered, leaning against the wall now. “She threatened me. Said you’d storm out mid-surgery if you knew.” He shot you a little smirk “She’s scarier than you, you know.”
Seungcheol inhaled sharply, dragging his focus back to you. His thumb swept over your cheek, his voice lowering, urgent and soft just for you. “Why didn’t you call me? You think I wouldn’t drop everything for you? For this?”
Your lips wobbled into the faintest smile, trying to calm him “I didn’t want you distracted while saving someone’s life. You were in surgery. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” His brows furrowed, fury and fear mixing in his chest “You’re in labor. There’s no such thing as ‘not that bad.’” He pressed his forehead to yours, his hand firm at the back of your head “Don’t do that to me again. Please.”
From the corner, Jeonghan coughed lightly, but the sparkle in his eye betrayed his amusement “See? I tried.”
Eunji, sitting cross-legged on the bed now, patted your bump with wide-eyed excitement “Appa, baby’s kicking lots! Like boom boom boom!”
That broke him. Seungcheol actually laughed, he leaned down to kiss Eunji’s hair, then your temple, his hand spreading protectively over your belly.
His voice when he spoke again was a low promise, as much to himself as to you: “I’m not leaving this room. Not until our baby’s here.”
The second Seungcheol saw the way Eunji was bouncing on the mattress, singing about the “baby boom boom,” he exhaled through his nose and crouched down in front of her
“Princess,” he said, voice gentle but firm, “why don’t you go with Uncle Jeonghan for now? He’s going to get you some yummy dinner.”
Eunji immediately pouted, clutching your arm “But appa, I wanna stay with eomma and baby.”
He smoothed her hair back, kissing her forehead “I know, baby girl. But eomma needs to rest, and you need to eat. Remember? We promised Uncle Jeonghan would take care of you when this day comes.” He glanced at Jeonghan, who was already smirking, arms wide
“You’ll get her back in one piece, promise,” Jeonghan drawled “Maybe sugared up a little, but hey, that’s the fun uncle tax.”
Seungcheol gave him a look sharp enough to cut, but his hand stayed gentle on Eunji’s back “Go on. Be good for Uncle. Appa will call you as soon as baby’s ready to meet you.”
Eunji hesitated, looking between you and Seungcheol, before finally sliding into Jeonghan’s arms. “Okay… but Uncle, I want tteokbokki and ice cream.”
“You got it, boss,” Jeonghan grinned, already shifting her onto his hip. He threw Seungcheol a mock salute on the way out. “Good luck, chief.”
The door closed, and the room quieted. Seungcheol’s whole demeanor shifted instantly. Less father, more doctor-husband hybrid. He picked up your chart with practiced hands, eyes scanning numbers, lips pressing together. Then he turned to the monitor, watching the blips of your contractions. He checked your pulse at your wrist, his other hand on your stomach, timing. Once. Twice. Thrice.
You raised a brow at him, fighting a smile. “You know… you’re not an OB.”
That got him to look at you, finally, eyes narrowing with that mix of exasperation and love only he could manage “Doesn’t matter. You’re mine.” He set the chart down and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, as if to check for fever that wasn’t there. “And I’m not taking chances.”
You laughed softly, reaching up to cup his cheek “Cheol, I have Dr. Bae. The actual OB.”
He leaned into your palm, jaw tense “Dr. Bae doesn’t love you the way I do.” Then, quieter, rawer: “I wasn’t here when it started. I’m not missing another second.”
Your heart clenched at that, the sheer vulnerability beneath his steady exterior.
Dr. Bae came back in with her usual calm smile, clipboard in hand. She greeted Seungcheol with a small nod, you with a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder. “Vitals are stable, contractions are steady,” she began, professional as ever. “But I did notice something I’d like to check further.”
That immediately had Seungcheol straightening from your bedside, every muscle pulled tight “What did you notice?” His tone was clipped, too sharp, too quick.
Dr. Bae didn’t flinch, she was used to his intensity “The baby’s heartbeat is healthy, strong. But there’s a pattern that suggests we should rule out cord entanglement. It’s not uncommon, and most of the time, babies do perfectly fine. Still, I’d like to do a quick ultrasound.”
You felt his hand slide into yours, warm and firm. He was composed to anyone else’s eyes, but you could feel the tension thrumming through him.
Dr. Bae wheeled the portable ultrasound over. “Let’s take a look.”
You shifted on the bed, gown pulled back, gel cool against your skin. Seungcheol hovered close—so close he might as well have been attached to the machine himself. His jaw was locked tight as his gaze darted between the screen and your face, like he could protect both at once.
The grainy image flickered to life. Dr. Bae’s practiced hands guided the probe, her expression calm, collected “Here’s the baby’s head… spine… little feet. Strong movements.” She paused, adjusting the angle, and tapped the screen gently “And here. The cord.”
You followed her finger, breath catching at the pale line looped near the baby’s neck
Seungcheol’s hand tightened on yours. “Nuchal cord?” His voice was low, tight.
“Single loop,” Dr. Bae confirmed, calm. “But look no tightening, no restriction. Blood flow is good. Baby is compensating well.” She pointed out the steady blip of the Doppler trace.
“We’ll keep monitoring closely, but for now, everything is stable.”
Dr. Bae gave a small smile, wiping the gel from your stomach. “We’ll keep a closer eye as labor progresses, but for now no distress. Both mother and baby are doing well.” She glanced at Seungcheol knowingly “Chief, I’ll keep you updated by the hour. But you need to let me do my job, alright?”
He gave a tense nod, still holding onto you like you might disappear
The moment the door clicked shut behind Dr. Bae, you tugged lightly at Seungcheol’s hand, needing him closer. Your voice was small, barely above a whisper, “Baby’s okay, right? Like… it’s okay?”
His eyes snapped to yours, softer now but still carrying that storm of worry. He leaned down, resting his free hand on your belly while keeping his other entwined with yours. “Hey, look at me,” he coaxed, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “The baby’s okay.”
“But the cord—”
He nodded, taking a deep breath, his tone slipping into that careful mix of husband and doctor. “Yeah, there’s one loop of cord around the neck. It happens more often than people realize. Irene showed us the blood flow is normal, heartbeat’s strong, baby’s still moving well.” He squeezed your hand firmer, grounding both of you
“If there was any sign of distress, she’d have taken you to the OR already. She’s the best in her field, and she’s not worried. Which means you don’t have to be either.”
You exhaled shakily, biting your lip. “So it’s not… dangerous?”
“Not as long as it’s monitored,” he reassured, leaning closer, his forehead pressing to yours again “She’s going to keep checking. I’ll keep checking. And if anything even slightly changes, we’ll act fast. But right now—” his palm smoothed over your bump, protective and tender, “—our baby is okay. You’re okay. Both of you are safe.”
You finally let your shoulders sag, some of the tension leaving you “Promise?”
His lips curved, soft and certain, even though his eyes still shone with that unspoken fear “Promise,” he murmured, kissing your temple “I’ll never let anything happen to you two.”
You gave a small laugh through the lump in your throat, brushing at his cheek “You sound like you’re trying to guard us from the whole world.”
Seungcheol’s gaze softened even further, his thumb still rubbing circles into your belly “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
The night had stretched long, past midnight now yet Seungcheol hadn’t even thought about rest. He’d been glued to your side, adjusting your pillows, checking the monitor himself every five minutes even though the nurses were already doing it.
You had been steady all evening, contractions building but manageable, until suddenly a wave of pain hit you harder, sharper than the others.
Your hand clutched at his wrist. “Cheol—something’s wrong—” you gasped, face paling as you doubled over.
He was on you in an instant, his other hand already lifting the blanket, clinical instincts kicking in before he could even think. His chest tightened the moment he saw it—the telltale fresh red pooling, not the faint show from earlier. His voice dropped, calm but urgent, “Placenta rupture.”
The room shifted instantly into chaos. He hit the call button hard, his voice clipped and commanding, “Get Dr. Bae now.”
Nurses streamed in within seconds, rolling in equipment. Alarms pinged as one of them checked your vitals and another wheeled in oxygen. You were breathing fast, panicked, and Seungcheol cupped your cheek with one hand, forcing you to focus on him
“Baby, listen to me. Look at me. Breathe with me, alright? In—slow. Out.” His own chest rose and fell as he exaggerated the breaths for you, grounding you even as his pulse roared in his ears.
Dr. Bae burst in, already gloved and snapping into command mode. “She’s rupturing. Prep the OR, stat. We don’t have time.”
Seungcheol’s grip tightened around your hand. “She’s losing blood—”
“I know,” Dr. Bae cut in firmly, already at the foot of the bed checking the bleed “You know the protocol. We need to move. Now.”
The nurses started unhooking your monitors, unlocking the bed wheels. You cried out as another contraction seized your body, your grip on Seungcheol nearly crushing. “Cheol—don’t leave me—”
His heart cracked, but he bent down quickly, pressing his forehead to yours, his free hand cupping your jaw. “I’m not leaving you, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up. You’re going to be fine, our baby’s going to be fine. Do you hear me?”
You nodded weakly, tears spilling as the nurses pushed your bed toward the door.
But at the threshold, Dr. Bae stopped, turning to him. Her tone softened but remained firm. “You know you can’t come in. It’s policy.”
Every part of him screamed to fight, to push past, to be at your side when they cut, but his training kept him rooted. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his chest rising and falling with ragged restraint. “Take care of them, Irene. Please—”
Her eyes flicked up, softer now “I will. You have my word.”
And then you were gone, wheeled through the double doors, leaving him standing there, his heart slamming against his ribs, the helplessness nearly suffocating. He pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes, sucking in a breath, then leaned against the sterile wall. For once, Choi Seungcheol, the unshakable chief, could do nothing but wait.
The wait became torture.
Seungcheol had been pacing the corridor outside the OR for what felt like forever, but when the clock crept past an hour and nurses kept rushing in and out—faces tight, movements clipped—his stomach dropped.
He knew.
Years of experience, of watching scenes just like this play out from the other side of those double doors, told him exactly what was happening. The additional OB scrubbed in. The anesthesiologist moving fast. And then the worst sign: the surgical nurse wheeling in fresh blood bags.
His heart sank. You were bleeding out.
And then another wave of personnel entered, one of them carrying a neonatal crash cart. That alone was enough to make his vision swim. Baby’s oxygen. Baby wasn’t tolerating the rupture.
His fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms, jaw locked as he forced himself not to storm in. He wanted to tear through the doors, demand answers, lay his hands on you and stop your bleeding himself but policy and love had him trapped. He couldn’t compromise your care. He knew Irene was the best. He knew the team inside was competent. He knew barging in would cost time.
And still—God, it was killing him.
Jeonghan appeared, breathless, holding a sleepy Eunji who clutched a stuffed bunny. He slowed when he saw Seungcheol’s face
“Cheol—what’s going on?”
Seungcheol dragged a hand down his face, his usually steady voice breaking. “It’s… complicated. She’s bleeding too much. Baby’s in distress. They’re transfusing her.” His throat bobbed as he tried to keep it clinical, but the words came out raw
“If they don’t get the cord untangled—” He stopped himself. His little girl was staring at him with wide eyes, and he couldn’t bear to scare her
Eunji shifted in Jeonghan’s arms, lisping through sleep, “Appa… eomma?”
That single word undid him. He crouched down immediately, taking her tiny hand in both of his, he forced a smile, voice gentle. “Eomma’s being really strong right now, baby. And your little sibling too. They’re fighting really hard.”
Jeonghan’s gaze softened “She’s in the best hands, Cheol. You know that.”
“I know,” he muttered, voice trembling as his forehead pressed briefly against Eunji’s knuckles. “But knowing doesn’t make this any easier.”
Another flurry of motion behind the doors. His entire body went rigid, every instinct screaming to push through.
His hand slammed against the wall once, quiet and sharp, before he bent back down, pulling Eunji into his arms, clinging to her like an anchor. His voice broke as he whispered against her hair, “Please… please let them both come back to me.”
The moment the OR doors cracked open, Seungcheol’s head snapped up. A nurse, flushed and urgent, scanned the hall and landed on Jeonghan.
“Doctor Yoon—we need you inside. Neonatal’s already there but—please.”
Jeonghan didn’t hesitate. “I’ll take care of the baby. You just—hold on here. Don’t move. I’ll bring your kid back safe.”
And then he was gone, vanishing into the storm of beeping machines and sterile light. The doors swung shut behind him, leaving Seungcheol with nothing but silence and his little girl curled in his lap.
For the first time all night, he felt himself split in two. Husband. Father. Chief. He couldn’t be all at once. Right now, he had to be Appa.
Eunji blinked up at him, thumb in her mouth, her bunny pressed tight against her chest. Her tiny voice cracked, “Appa… baby okay?”
Seungcheol swallowed hard, pulling her close, pressing a trembling kiss into her hair. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he whispered, though his chest felt like it was caving in. “Uncle Jeonghan is with the baby now. He’s the best, remember? He fixes little ones all the time.”
“Eomma?”
That word nearly finished him. His eyes stung, his throat tightening as he forced himself to smile. He brushed her bangs back gently, memorizing every inch of her because she was his strength, the reason he had to keep it together.
“Eomma’s being really strong. Stronger than Appa, even.” He chuckled weakly, rocking her in his arms. “She’s gonna come back to us.”
The hall was too bright, too quiet except for the muffled echoes of controlled chaos beyond the doors. He hated every second of not being inside, hated being stripped of control. But looking down at his daughter’s sleepy, trusting face, he knew he couldn’t fall apart here.
He straightened in his seat, wrapping Eunji securely against him, jaw set even as his hands trembled around her small frame. He couldn’t lose himself to fear. He had to be steady for her, for you, for the little one fighting their way into this world.
“Appa?” Eunji mumbled again, eyes fluttering
“Yes, baby?”
She touched his face with her tiny palm, serious even half-asleep “No cry. Don’t’ be sad”
His chest broke open at that. He kissed her palm, tucked her head under his chin, and whispered so softly only she could hear, “I’ll be brave. For you. For Eomma. For baby. I promise.”
And with that vow, he sat there—rigid, waiting, praying—as the doors stayed shut and every second felt like a lifetime.
The sudden crash of the OR doors made Seungcheol bolt to his feet, his arms instinctively tightening around Eunji. The sound of squeaking wheels cut through the sterile hall, and then an incubator. Small. Too small. Covered, shielded. Machines already humming and wires trailing.
He barely caught the blur of tiny limbs before the nurses shielded it, pushing the incubator down the corridor with a swiftness that told him everything he needed to know. Jeonghan was right on their heels, scrubs splattered, his eyes sharp and focused as he jogged alongside, barking clipped instructions. “NICU—clear the way, keep the line steady—watch the head!”
And just like that, they were gone. No pause, no chance, not even a glimpse worth holding on to. His child—your baby—was being rushed away before he could even breathe.
Eunji startled, clutching his coat. “Appa—baby?” Her voice cracked with fear.
Seungcheol dropped back to the bench, pulling her close and whispering fiercely against her hair, “Baby’s with Uncle Jeonghan. It’s okay, sweetheart. They’re just helping.” His voice was calm for her, but inside he was spiraling, teeth gritted, nails biting into his palm where she couldn’t see.
The hall seemed to stretch into forever. Every tick of the clock mocked him. He kept his eyes on the OR doors, refusing to blink, refusing to sit back, Eunji’s weight grounding him.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the doors swung again. Dr. Irene Bae stepped out, her cap slightly askew, mask tugged down around her neck. There was exhaustion in her eyes, but there was something else too. Relief.
“Doctor Choi,” she called softly
He surged to his feet so fast Eunji jolted awake again “Irene—” His voice cracked. “Tell me—”
She met his gaze squarely, steadying “Your wife made it. She lost a lot of blood, and it was close—too close—but she’s stable now.”
Seungcheol’s knees nearly buckled. The air rushed out of him in one sharp exhale, his hand clutching the back of the bench as he bent over, forehead almost to Eunji’s crown. Relief hit so hard it was dizzying.
Eunji looked up at him, still frightened. “Eomma okay?”
He lifted his daughter higher into his arms, his voice breaking but sure. “Yeah, baby. Eomma’s okay.”
Irene crouched slightly, her mask tugged fully down now, a soft smile blooming as she looked at Eunji. “Hey, princess,” she said gently, opening her arms. Eunji, sensing the weight crushing her father, reached hesitantly then leaned into Irene’s hold.
Seungcheol didn’t even protest. His hands lingered a second too long on his daughter’s back before letting her go, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon.
Irene shifted the little girl against her hip with practiced ease, brushing her hair back as she cooed, “Your eomma’s really strong. She did so well.”
Eunji’s eyes, wide and shimmering, searched Irene’s face. “Eomma okay?” she asked again, smaller this time, like she was asking for herself as much as for her appa.
Irene nodded firmly, squeezing her tiny hand. “Yes, sweetheart. Eomma’s okay.”
She glanced up at Seungcheol, and for a second her expression softened even further. She’d known him for years, seen him command operating rooms without a tremor in his voice, make split-second calls that saved lives. She smiled at the little girl, turning her to face the other way as if to let Seungcheol have a second for himself.
He was pale, his jaw tight, his hands still trembling faintly at his sides. He was just a husband. Just a father.
Seungcheol drew a long, shaky breath, forcing himself to straighten, to look less like the world was tilting beneath his feet. His eyes finally found Irene’s again, desperate but steadier now.
She smiled, the kind of smile she only reserved for news worth holding onto. “Congratulations, Seungcheol. It’s a baby boy.”
The words hit him like a tidal wave. For a moment, he just stood there, staring, his lips parting, his eyes blinking rapidly as though trying to process the sound.
A boy. His son.
His throat tightened painfully, a sound caught between a laugh and a sob escaping before he pressed his knuckles to his mouth. He turned his face away, hiding it for a beat, before dropping heavily onto the bench again, his elbows on his knees. His whole frame shuddered with the effort of keeping it together.
Above him, Eunji clapped her little hands once against Irene’s shoulder, her face lighting up. “Baby brother?”
Irene chuckled softly, “That’s right. You’re a big sister now.”
Much later you’re finally in the recovery room.
The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the monitor and the soft hum of machines. You were pale but peaceful, your breathing even, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that Seungcheol had counted a hundred times already.
Across the room, little Eunji was curled under hospital blankets, her tiny chest rising in sync with yours, her thumb tucked into her mouth. A nurse had tucked her in gently.
The door opened softly, and Seungcheol’s head snapped up instantly. Jeonghan stepped in, his hair damp from a quick shower, fresh scrubs clinging to his lean frame. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, but the moment his gaze landed on his friend, he let out that trademark lazy grin.
It was the kind of smile Seungcheol had learned to trust as it only ever showed up when there was good news.
Seungcheol stood so fast the chair scraped back, his eyes searching Jeonghan’s face. “Well?” His voice cracked, raw from hours of silence and swallowed panic.
Jeonghan dragged a hand through his damp hair, exhaling slowly before speaking. “He’s stable.”
“Stable?”
Jeonghan nodded, coming closer, his tone steady but warm. “Cord was a mess, oxygen dropped bad for a while. But he responded fast. He’s small, but strong.” He gave a tired shrug, lips quirking “Takes after his parents, I guess.”
Seungcheol pressed a hand over his face, dragging it down slowly as relief washed over him, leaving him almost dizzy. His shoulders sagged as if the weight of the last few hours had finally caved in. His eyes glossed, the first tear slipping free before he could stop it.
“He’s okay,” he whispered to himself, then again louder, steadier “My son’s okay.”
Jeonghan’s smile softened. He leaned against the wall, watching the man who was usually unshakable finally let go “He’ll need to stay in NICU a while. Monitors, oxygen support. But he’s a fighter. Give him time.”
Seungcheol turned back to you, reaching for your hand, brushing his thumb gently across your knuckles. “Did you hear that, baby?” he whispered, voice breaking. “He’s okay. You did it. Both of you.”
Jeonghan pushed off the wall, lowering his voice as he glanced toward Eunji, still sleeping soundly. “Rest while you can, Cheol. You’ll need it.”
Seungcheol almost laughed, the sound low and watery, before he bent over, pressing his lips softly to your temple. “He’s okay,” he murmured again, like a mantra, for you, for himself, for the family he refused to let slip through his fingers.
The NICU was quiet in that heavy way only hospitals at night could be. Dim lights, soft beeps, the gentle hiss of oxygen.
Seungcheol scrubbed in automatically. Habits drilled into him after years in medicine but tonight he wasn’t the chief, wasn’t the surgeon. He was just a man about to meet his son.
The nurse at the station gave him a small nod of recognition, whispering, “Incubator five.”
His feet felt heavy, yet too fast, carrying him down the narrow row until he stopped. There. Tiny, impossibly tiny. Swaddled and dwarfed by the wires and tubes, a small hat covering his head. His chest rose and fell with help from the machine, but it was steady.
Seungcheol’s hand trembled as he rested it against the incubator’s edge. He leaned in, breath catching in his throat. “Hey… hey, little man,” he whispered, voice rough “It’s Appa.”
The baby’s fingers twitched, impossibly small against the white blanket. Seungcheol’s throat closed. He’d delivered hundreds of babies, reassured countless families but nothing could have prepared him for this. For his.
“You scared us,” he continued softly, pressing his forehead against the plastic “Your mom… she fought so hard for you. And you—” His lips trembled into a smile “You fought too.”
The monitor beeped, steady, like a tiny heartbeat reminding him his boy was here, alive, his.
He carefully slipped a hand through the small opening in the incubator, fingers brushing against his son’s hand. Warm. So impossibly small it fit against the pad of his thumb.
“You’ve got your sister waiting to meet you. She’s bossy—takes after your mom.” A shaky chuckle escaped him. “She’s gonna love you. I already know.”
For a moment, he just stayed like that hand inside, bent over, murmuring things only his son could hear. Promises. Vows.
“You’re never gonna be alone. Not for a second,” he whispered fiercely, his tears dripping silently onto the plastic shell “I don’t care if I have to stand guard over you every night. I’m here. I’m always here.”
The tiny fingers curled faintly around him, a reflex, but Seungcheol let out a broken laugh, wiping his face with his free hand. “Good grip. Just like your sister. Just like me.”
He stayed until a nurse gently reminded him to let the baby rest. With a final brush of his thumb over his son’s hand, he whispered, “Sleep, my boy. I’ll be back soon. Appa’s not going anywhere.”
When he finally pulled away, his chest felt raw but whole. He had seen his son. And for the first time since the chaos began, Seungcheol allowed himself to believe, they were all going to be okay.
Your eyes fluttered open to the sterile white of the hospital room, the quiet hum of machines, and the warmth of a hand gripping yours so tight it almost hurt.
“Cheol…?” your voice was still hoarse, groggy
The moment you said his name, Seungcheol’s head snapped up. His eyes—red, glassy, wet. He tried, he really did, to hold it together, but the second he saw you awakehe broke. His face crumpled, shoulders shaking as he bent down, pressing his forehead to your hand.
“Baby,” he choked, his voice cracking in a way you’d never heard “God—I thought—I thought I lost you.”
Your heart dropped, panic flooding. You struggled to sit up, pain tugging at your body, but fear sharper. “Cheol, what happened? Tell me—please—what happened? The baby—”
He shot up, both hands on your face, almost frantic as he shook his head. “No, no, listen—listen to me. You’re okay. You made it. You’re here with me.” His thumb trembled against your cheek, brushing away a tear that wasn’t even yours
“And the baby—he’s here. He’s alive. He’s fighting. Our son’s okay.”
Your breath hitched. “A boy?”
He nodded, tears spilling over again, but this time with a smile tugging his lips “A boy. He’s so small—but he’s strong, jagi. He’s in the NICU right now. I just came from him. He—he held my finger.”
Your own tears blurred your vision, a shaky laugh escaping you. Relief hit you so hard your chest ached “Cheol…”
He pulled you in carefully, so carefully, pressing his face into the curve of your neck, his body shaking against you. You felt the weight of it, the hours he held it all together, the fear he swallowed, the helplessness he hated. And now, with you awake, he let it all go.
You whispered against his hair, holding him as best you could, “I’m here, baby. I’m here. We’re okay. We’re okay.”
But he just held you tighter, like he didn’t quite believe it yet.
=
It felt surreal the ride home this time. Not like when you brought Eunji home years ago, fumbling, terrified, alone. This time, there was calm in the air, relief humming steady.
Seungcheol’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his wedding band catching the sunlight. His other hand reached across the console, holding yours the whole way. He checked the car seat more times than necessary, adjusting it until you finally laughed softly. “Cheol…he’s not going anywhere.”
When you finally got home, Eunji was already waiting with Jeonghan, bouncing on her little feet the moment she saw the car pull up. “Eomma! Appa! Baby! Baby’s here!!” She squealed so loud Seungji stirred.
Seungcheol was out of the car first, moving like he had a mission taking your bag, making sure you had support getting out, then carefully unbuckling his son like he was made of glass. He only let Eunji peek once Seungji was safely in his arms.
Eunji gasped, little hands covering her mouth “He’s soooo tiny! Appa, he looks like you!”
That earned her a laugh from Jeonghan “More like a mini-Choi. You’re doomed, kid. Another scary one in the family.”
He crouched down to Eunji’s level, tilting the baby so she could see better. “Eunji-ya, this is your little brother, Seungji. He’s going to need his noona to protect him too, hm?”
Eunji’s serious little nod nearly made you cry “I’ll take care of him, Appa. I promise.”
Later, when Jeonghan left and the house was finally quiet, you settled on the couch with Seungji against your chest, Eunji snuggled to your side. Seungcheol stood a few feet away, just staring like he couldn’t believe you were all here, safe.
He kissed your forehead, then Seungji’s, then Eunji’s hair. His hand lingered on your thigh as he whispered, “I’m never letting anything happen to you. Any of you. Not again. I swear.”
Your heart clenched, you knew he meant it. After everything, his protectiveness wasn’t just instinct anymore. It was a vow.
The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the sound machine and Seungji’s soft baby breaths. You’d gotten used to this sound in just a week the tiny sighs, the restless noises, the squeaky cries but tonight it hit different. Maybe because you weren’t the one pacing the floor with him.
You came out of the bedroom slowly, your hand pressed to the doorframe for balance, still healing, and there he was.
Seungcheol sat on the couch, broad shoulders hunched forward slightly, a baby blanket draped over his arm as he rocked Seungji against his chest. Eunji was curled next to him, her head resting on his thigh, fighting sleep with all the stubbornness of a four-year-old.
He noticed you before you said a word, his eyes soft but a little tired, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Caught me.” He whispered, as if even his voice wanted to soothe.
You padded over and sat on the edge of the armrest “You should be sleeping too.”
He shook his head, looking down at Seungji, then at Eunji “She refused to miss out on anything. Said she’s his noona and has to stay awake with him.” His hand brushed over Eunji’s hair with such tenderness it made your throat tighten “She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t here.”
You glanced at your daughter, her little fists curled around the edge of his t-shirt, eyes barely open but still trying to watch her baby brother. It hit you like a memory—the nights you sat just like this but alone, rocking Eunji, no one’s hand to brush your hair back, no one’s shoulder to lean on.
Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts. “How…” He exhaled slowly, still rocking the baby. “How did you do this alone?”
You blinked at him, at the way he was looking at you. He wasn’t accusing. He wasn’t angry. He was… bewildered. And a little broken.
You looked at Seungji, his tiny fist clutching Seungcheol’s shirt now, and then at Eunji. You reached out, smoothing your palm down her back before answering softly. “It was… hard,” you admitted. “There were nights I thought I wouldn’t make it through. That I couldn’t. But then I’d look at her—” you motioned at Eunji “—and I’d see us. Even if I didn’t get to keep you back then… at least I had a part of you with me.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, his throat working. When he opened them again, his gaze was heavy with regret, with love, with something you couldn’t name. “You shouldn’t have had to do it alone.”
You gave him a small, tired smile “I’m not alone now.”
His hand reached out, covering yours, squeezing gently “Never again.”
=
*A YEAR LATER*
Your bedroom looked less like a sanctuary and more like a miniature playground at the moment. Pillows tossed around, the blanket halfway on the floor, and in the middle of it all was Seungcheol flat on his back, arms out like he’d given up, while two little humans treated him like their personal jungle gym.
Eunji, now five and very much aware she was the reigning princess of the house, was sitting squarely on his chest, a tiara sliding dangerously down her head. “Appa, you’re the horse. You can’t lay down!” she scolded, tiny hands on her hips
Meanwhile, Seungji about to turn one, drooly grin wide and eyes sparkling was crawling all over his dad’s side, tugging mercilessly at his shirt collar like it was the most entertaining thing in the world.
You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, biting back laughter. “This is why they’re not asleep. You’re supposed to calm them down, not hype them up, Cheol.”
He cracked one eye open, looking both exhausted and utterly smitten “Baby, I swear I didn’t do anything. I was just lying here, and they attacked me.”
Eunji gasped dramatically. “We are NOT attacking. We’re playing princess castle.” She thumped her tiny fists against his chest “And you’re the dragon.”
Seungcheol groaned but it was all for show, his hands gently securing Seungji so he didn’t tumble off “How come I’m always the dragon? Why can’t I be the prince?”
“Because,” Eunji announced as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Eomma is the queen, I’m the princess, and Seungji is the baby prince. Sooo…” She patted his cheek sweetly, “You have to be the dragon.”
You snorted, walking over to pluck the slipping tiara off her head and fix it. “Seems fair to me.”
Seungcheol gave you a mock glare but the corners of his mouth betrayed him. “Traitor.”
Before you could reply, Seungji let out an excited squeal, bouncing on his knees before collapsing against his appa’s chest, drool soaking into Seungcheol’s shirt. Your husband sighed in defeat, kissing the top of his son’s fluffy hair. “See? Even the baby’s against me.”
Eunji giggled, lying across his stomach now, her legs kicking in the air. “Appa, you’re the best dragon. Don’t worry.”
You perched on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair back “Alright, Princess, it’s almost midnight. Even dragons need to sleep.”
“Nooo,” she whined, clinging to Seungcheol’s shirt “One more game!”
Seungcheol tilted his head at you, that mischievous glint in his eye “Did you hear that, baby? The queen has been overruled.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips “Fine. One more game. But after this, both the princess and the baby prince are going to sleep.”
Eunji squealed in victory, and Seungcheol groaned again as she climbed back onto his chest. “Alright,” he muttered, lifting her up with exaggerated effort. “One last dragon ride, but I expect royal treatment tomorrow. Breakfast in bed at least.”
Eunji grinned “Okay, Appa. I’ll make you toast!”
Seungji clapped at the sound of her voice, as if fully agreeing, before tugging on Seungcheol’s hair.
You laughed so hard your sides hurt watching them—your husband looking entirely conquered, your daughter in her full princess glory, and your baby boy happy just to be in the chaos.
And in that moment, your heart swelled with the simple truth: this was your castle, your family, your everything.
thee room was finally quiet, the chaos of tiaras, giggles, and dragon games giving way to soft, even breaths. Both kids had surrendered to sleep in less than ten minutes. Eunji sprawled across the bed like the little starfish she’d always been, and Seungji curled up tight between you and Seungcheol, his tiny hand fisted in his appa’s shirt.
You shifted slightly, careful not to disturb the boy, and smiled “She hasn’t changed at all. Still hogging the whole bed.”
Seungcheol turned his head toward Eunji, her limbs stretched out in impossible directions, one leg already kicking against his thigh in her sleep. He let out a soft chuckle, though his eyes looked heavy with fatigue. “She’s gonna be the reason I end up with a bad back.”
You brushed your thumb gently over Seungji’s chubby cheek. He stirred, instinctively pressing closer against his father’s chest, sighing as if he knew exactly where he belonged. “And him…” you whispered, “he’s the complete opposite. Always glued to us.”
Seungcheol’s gaze softened, his large hand covering most of his son’s tiny back. “He’s a cuddler. Just like his eomma.”
You nudged him lightly with your foot under the blanket. “Are you saying that’s a bad thing?”
“Never,” he murmured, leaning his head back against the headboard, eyes tracing both of your children as though he couldn’t quite believe they were real. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Even if it means I don’t get a single night of decent sleep ever again.”
You studied him quietly for a moment the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders looked heavier lately, the mix of exhaustion and devotion carved into his face. He looked like he was carrying the whole world, yet still, he was here, wide awake just to hold his family together.
Reaching over, you slid your hand into his. He gave it a squeeze, slow but firm, turning to meet your gaze.
“You’re tired,” you whispered
“Yeah,” he admitted softly, lips curving despite himself. “But I’d be even more tired if I missed this. Them falling asleep between us? You? This is… this is everything.”
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Dragon,” you teased quietly.
That made him chuckle again, low and warm, and he closed his eyes, finally letting his head drop to the pillow. His hand stayed in yours, his other resting protectively over Seungji, like even in sleep he refused to let go.
And in that quiet, with your children nestled safe between you and your husband’s breath evening out beside you, you thought to yourself: maybe it wasn’t perfect. But it was yours. And it was enough.
