WHO: Thomas and family!
WHAT: Portkey Terminal!
WHEN: Getting ready to leave for New York!



The tips of his fingers brushed through Alice's small curls, and Thomas shook his head. "This is a bad idea."

His mother clicked her tongue as she shifted the sleeping baby to her other shoulder. Thomas' frown deepened, and he felt the tightness in his chest constrict even more. How could his mother suggest that she and Alice stay in England and not come to New York with him? He'd already arranged the hotels; they'd be away from the frenzy of the World Cup activities!

"I've been saying this the whole time, Thomas," his mother quietly retorted, rubbing his daughter's back. "It's too long of a trip, and the time change is going to ruin her sleeping pattern."

"But--"

"I'll owl every day, I'll even get one of those journal things--"

"--don't do that."

"Why, you don't want me spying on your business?"

Thomas' lips twisted as he attempted to smile at his mother's joke, but the stress he was feeling at the idea of leaving his daughter literally across an ocean was absolutely terrifying him and he let out a shaky breath instead. His foot began to tap and Thomas had to look away and down the portkey terminal as he tried to calm his nerves. She had been coming with him as of last night, but now...

"What if she forgets me? I could be gone a month, it's a long time, her memory's not very good!" he asked quickly in a panic, but softly. His mother let out a laugh and put her free hand to his cheek.

"I'll put a picture of your adorable face on her mobile," she said, eyebrows high. "Honestly, Thomas, she's not going to--"

"What if something happens?" he said, voice strained.

Thomas immediately regretted his slip of tongue, avoiding the sympathetic eyes of his mother. The concerned eyes, the eyes that he could read all too easily, that knew him all too well. Thomas had hurt a lot of people by leading his double-life, but his mother had never questioned his decisions. She'd never asked him why, because she understood. She knew him better than anyone did and she'd accepted Alice as if the baby had been planned for years. All that mattered to his mother was that she was Thomas' daughter, and she'd accept the way she came into their lives. His mother had been a great help these past few months and had witnessed first hand his struggle to adjust to his decisions and new life, and she'd never once seemed to resent him for needing her so much.

She patted his cheek, eyes taking on a determined gaze, "Nothing's going to happen, love."

"You can't promise me that," he said, desperately wanting to believe his mother.

"Yes I can, because I'm your mum," she said, pushing forward to wrap her arm around him. They were careful not to squeeze Alice too tightly between them, and Thomas felt a great sense of relief overcome him. He hoped that when he held his daughter that she felt the same sense of unwavering devotion he did from his mother, and Thomas shut his eyes for a moment to hopefully absorb and hold onto the feeling. She pulled back and smiled. "I'm very proud of you. You're going to be an amazing captain. "

Thomas felt his face heat up and his eyes dropped to the ground. It had been hard to accept the title of captain, just as it had been hard to accept that he'd been chosen for the world cup team, or any of his past accomplishments; he always felt as if he had to prove to, well, the world that he deserved them. It was good to hear and to honestly believe that someone had that sort of faith in him.

"That means a lot," he muttered, putting his arm around his mother's shoulders as they started toward where the rest of the Scottish team was waiting.

"It's true," she said, tugging the blanket around Alice's body a little tighter. "You better take it to heart, too: I told all my friends you were bringing me back the cup."

"Oy, Mum..."