Burr is drifting, whimpering through waves of pain when he feels that warm weight against him, someone moving his shirt aside, latching on. His arms come up on their own, and when he opens his eyes he sees her, and he feels something inside him splinter.

She is so tiny, and fragile, and small. Anything could crush her, and Burr cradles her so gently, his eyes blurring once more.

"Hamilton," he rasps, but he is too tired to even prop his head up, and soon he is falling back down into his nest, trembling and shaking and sweating.

"She's--" but he doesn't know what to say, as he starts to choke on his emotions, but broken cooing noises bubble up in him, something instinctual, as he bends low and licks her, scents her.

"Theodosia," he says. She looks like him. "Theodosia Montgomery."