Chris' phone rang again, and again, he ignored the call. He wasn't in a state to keep score but it was the twelfth time someone had tried to call him since he heard Denise's plane had crashed. He realized there were people worried about him but he didn't want to talk, the man barely wanted to breathe. The initial sob he had in his car was the only sob he'd had, he hadn't cried since. He felt incapacitated. He'd lost his fiancée and his first child all in one day, in one fatal plane crash; a tragedy he'd never recover from. Thirty-five years he'd waited for a girl like Denise; thirty-eight years to get married and have kids. He was on the verge of having everything he'd ever wanted, only to have it cruelly ripped away from him at the very last minute.

Chris found himself at his gym after driving aimlessly around Los Angeles. He should've gone home, called his mom, her mom, all those who needed to know what had happened to Denise. But instead he left his phone in his car and walked into the gym. He needed a distraction, something to do so he didn't have to think about a world without Denise. He could process things tomorrow, he could make the calls tomorrow. What he needed to do right now was to punch something, and punch that something hard.

"Chris, hey." Max, one of the trainers that saw Chris regularly around the gym greeted him with a smile. "I didn't think you'd be- Hey," his eyes narrowed when he noticed the distraught in Chris' facials. "Are you okay? You look like hell," he reached out to touch Chris' shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Chris shrugged off his touch and hurried towards the locker room.

Chris grabbed his spare set of gym clothes from his locker and got changed. His one and only destination was the punching bags. He strapped his hands tightly, his jaw tightened with a burning rage. He punched the bags with ferocity, all that emotional pain brewing within him was released through his knuckles. He worked the bag incessantly, attracting the attention of the other gym members with his peculiar behavior. It wasn't until his arms gave out that he stopped. He hunched over, resting both hands on his thighs. He panted, fighting the urge to cry. Denise was just gone, in a blink of an eye- her existence had been eliminated from the world; his baby, the perfect life he could've had- it was all gone.

"Chris!"

After hours of driving around, scouring the places on his sister's list of where Chris could've been, Donovan ultimately found him at his gym. He felt his tension ease as he let out a sigh of relief. Amongst the chaos, he, too, had been lost. It'd been hours since he'd heard his sister was meant to be on 'Delta 423', the reaper of two hundred and fifty-eight souls. He was yet to admit his little sister had brushed death because a world without her was too beastly to visualize. He had no time, nor strength to ask himself "what if she'd been on the plane?" He had a job to do, he had to relieve Chris. He could see, even at a distance, how bad a place his future brother-in-law was in. He had to help him breathe again by informing that-

"My sister didn't get on that plane."

"What?" Tears of utter joy and relief filled Chris' eyes.

"She missed her flight, she's alive."

Chris dropped to his knees and began to cry. He pressed a hand against his chest where he'd previously felt the weight of the universe. He was mentally, physically, and psychologically exhausted. All he wanted- all he needed was to see Denise's face, and hear her voice again. Up until Donovan's arrive, those were two things he thought he'd permanently lost the privilege to do. He'd never felt more relief in his entire life than when he heard the words "my sister didn't get on that plane."

"Where the fuck did you put your phone, man?" Donovan scolded. He grabbed Chris' arm and helped him to his feet. "She's been trying to call you for hours, Sebastian too. She's losing her mind with worry. She had to call me, Sebastian had to call his friends, Luca had to called Charles- we've been looking for you for hours."

"I'm sorry, I just-" He shook his head, unable to find a reason for his apology. "I'm sorry. Can I-" He pointed at the phone in Donovan's hand. Donovan nodded, helping to dial his sister's number before passing it to Chris. It barely rang before Denise picked up her phone, which was now fully charged and ready to receive any call with news about Chris. Upon hearing her frantic voice, asking if Donovan had found him- Chris let out a huge sigh of relief. "I thought I lost you today, baby." He chuckled with limited humor, feeling as though his legs were going to give out under him.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing she said. "I am so sorry, Chris. You were right, I- I shouldn't have come to New York. I'm so, so sorry," she whimpered. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "I know what today must have been like for you, I'm so sorry. But I'm fine, we're both fine and we're coming home." He managed a smile, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his forearm. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry," she rambled and cried. "I'm really, really sorry. I should've listened to you, I'm so sorry."

"Shhh, no. Sweetheart, stop." His heart ached at the sound of her whimpers. "Don't apologize, it's- it's not your fault. I'm just-" he let out another breath he'd been holding onto while appreciating her voice. "I'm overjoyed you're alive. I don't know what I would've done if you'd been on that plane, I mean- Upon hearing that broadcast, my whole world crumbled around me. I couldn't breathe, or think, or speak- I-" he huffed, "I love you, Denise. I want you home, and in my arms, as soon as humanly possible."

"My original flight, it um- it leaves tomorrow."

"Okay," he nodded and ran a hand over his mouth.

"But um-" She sniffled, crying softly. "I um-" She whimpered. "I'm scared to go onboard," she finally admitted. She understood statistically plane crashes were rare, but her brush with death had her lose her faith in science and math. She was scared to fly and she'd every right to be. There were a million 'what ifs' she wanted answers to, she wanted assurance she'd make it back to him in one piece. "I don't want to die, Chris."

"Baby," he began then cut himself off with a sigh. It was completely understandable if she never wanted to get on another plane again, he wouldn't have wanted to either if he'd found out the plane he was meant to be on had crashed. As her fiancé, the man who swore he'd always make her feel safe, he needed to find her an alternative. "How about I drive down to New York and pick you up? It'll be like a big road trip, that way you you don't have to get on a plane."

Denise would've been lying if she said she didn't briefly consider his alternative, but ultimately it was too much of an inconvenience to execute. "No," she shook her head. "That's forty hours, I'm not- I can't make you do that. I can-" she swallowed the horrible feeling in the back of her throat, "I can get on the plane. I'll be fine, I'm just-" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "It's fine, I'm not going to think about it. It was an accident and aviation accidents- they're not common."

"No they're not," Chris agreed with deep reassurance. "You're going to be fine, okay? I promise you're going to make it back to me, that both of you are going to make it back to me. Everything is going to be okay." There was a moment of silence that begged the question, "what made you decide not to board the plane?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Denise managed a light laugh.

"Well I didn't believe you were alive five minutes ago, so why don't you try me?"

"I was about to the board when I saw a little boy crying in a corner," she told him and he hummed in acknowledgement. "He looked about five or six, he was completely lost and alone. I saw a Captain America action figure in his hand and- I don't know, I just- I knew you would've helped him, and- I'm going to be a mom soon, it just felt like the right thing to do. So I went over and spoke to him and-" She had to pause and take a breath before she imparted the rest of her story to him. "His name is Jack, Chris," she said and his lips parted in awe. "Jack saved my life." They both started to cry again, hearing those four words leave her lips.

"All the more reason to name our child 'Jack' if the baby inside you is a boy," he responded. She nodded in agreement, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I love you, Denise. And I'm so sorry for all the emotional stress you've suffered today, we'll make up for it when you get home, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled.