forthedog | Life comes at you fast. (for Eostre)

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eostre

Life comes at you fast. (for Eostre) - Dated to the 31st

When Peter had come running up to him, flushed and out of breath, alarm bells had not immediately started ringing.

When Peter had informed him that he should probably go see Eostre because Peter had broken her, they had. Loudly.

At least he's fairly sure he knows what it is, and it had been confirmed when Peter told him who he was going to tell next.

"You didn't break her," he had taken a second to say. "I mean... okay, maybe you did, but it's okay." Except is it? Fuck, it's two weeks early. Is that too early? At what point is too early? Are twins usually early because there's less room? Is there less room? Should he take another second to run back to the Compound and wash his hands with soap? Should he be ready to boil water? Why the fuck do you boil water, anyway? You hopefully aren't going to toss the babies into it. Like lobsters or something.

His mind is working along these faintly horrifying lines as he grits his teeth and starts to run. Running still isn't easy or pleasant and if a doctor saw him doing it he would probably be yelled at, but if there was ever a time when he truly did not give a shit...

He's so unprepared for this. He hasn't even read books. And two weeks.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"Eostre?" he calls, skidding to a stop outside her doorway and pulling the curtain aside, breathing hard. "Peter... told me..."

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She put both hands out to him, head hanging as she tried to contrate on breathing, her hair hanging in her eyes.

"Just...just come here, and...just...yes. Just come here. I'm trying to. They're not that quick, just yet. Is Peter okay? He was so scared."

He reaches for her but he's still not sure where to put his hands, and in the end he places a steadying one around her shoulder and the other on her waist, or where her waist used to be.

And he feels it. Muscles trembling, not quite clenching. Deep. It feels like nothing else he's ever felt before and he almost gasps.

"He's... he's okay," he says, no idea of whether or not that's actually true. "I told him you'd be fine."

With his arms wrapped around her, she felt more held, comforted and she took a deep, shaking breath.

"I can't do this, Mike," she said, breathlessly. "I just can't. I don't know how."

"People do it all the time," he says quietly, hands firm on her, trying to be comforting when in truth he could do with some reassurance himself.

It'll be better when Lily gets here. He just has to keep telling himself that.

"They do it all the time, with less help than you'll have. You can do it, and you'll be just fine."

"Not me, though," she said, shaking her head. "I can't do it, Mike. I don't want to, I..."

And then a contraction hit her and she lost her words, letting out a ragged cry.

"Mike."

He's seen her upset before. Seen that a lot, actually. And he's seen her frightened and angry, and a lot of other things besides, and in all of them she's still been in possession of herself, still poised deep under the surface.

He's never seen her this close to panic. And it nearly paralyzes him.

"I'm here," he says, feeling his stomach twist, arms tight around her and wondering what the hell he's going to do if her legs give out under her. "And... okay, look, you don't have a lot of choice about it, so just hang on." Hang on.

Sweet God, he's going to be a father.

Assuming all four of them live through this.

The contraction seemed to go on forever, and she pressed her face into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"I think," she said breathlessly, "I need. To sit down. And then I need you to talk to me until Lily gets here."

"Okay," he says, grateful for something to do, some goal he can work towards. "C'mon." And he guides her carefully over towards the bed, helping her to sink down onto it. "What should I talk about?"

And after Lily gets here... well, that'll be interesting.

Because he's still fucking staying.

She leans back on her hands on the bed, the contraction subsided, thankfully, and took a deep breath.

"Anything. Whatever you want. Just talk to me."

He considers, watching her carefully, looking for some sign of it starting again. He knows it's usually supposed to take a long time, labor, but he's also heard of it happening fairly quickly and he'd prefer not to have to be the one in charge when it does.

"Did I ever tell you I used to play baseball in school?" He's not really thinking about it, it just comes out, but it's true that the day before he had stopped at an open patch of green near the Compound and felt a pull that he hasn't felt in a long time. It seems very far away and unimportant now but it's something, and he holds onto it.

She shook her head.

"No. You never told me that." She smiled, rubbing one hand over her bump. "Were you any good?"

"Pretty good," he says, reaching up to stroke a hand slowly through her hair, soothing. "I pitched. I used to love that, the mind games behind it, trying to fake a batter out... and the grass. I loved the way the grass smelled." And the dust, and the cheap hot dogs. All of it.

She smiled when he stroked her hair, leaning into the touch, waiting for her next contraction, waiting for Lily to walk in and take over and make it look easy.

"You can teach the girls to throw."

"If they want to learn." She seems to be calming now, and he takes calm from her, tries to keep a store of it for when he knows he'll need it. "I'll teach them anything. How to throw, how to skate when there's ice, how to hunt..." How to fight. Though he doesn't want to say that now, not with her looking like that. But he remembers the bodies.

They should know how to fight. Just in case.

"And Chris and Jim will teach them to curl."

Eostre snorted, leaning her head against his shoulder, sweating and flushed. She had a death grip on his free hand.

"I'm scared, Mike. What if..."

"Stop it." He manages to say it firmly rather than sharply, but it's a near thing. If he's calm it's because he feels like he has to be, and the fact that she's teetering on the edge of it isn't making things any easier.

"It'll be fine. And... and if it's not, Lily'll be here and she'll know what to do." When he had met her briefly she had seemed utterly competent, and right now that's what he's clinging to.

Because he doesn't feel even in the same country as competent right now.

"Where is Lily?" said Eostre, taking a deep breath, still clinging on to him. One of the things that she'd always liked best about Mike was how solid and warm he was, how safe he made her feel in this frail, human form.

"It'll be fine," she repeated back.

"She's coming as fast as she can," he says, though he doesn't know that, and now horrible possibilities are starting to worm their way into his brain. Maybe Peter never found her. Maybe something's happened. Maybe she's not coming now.

"Any minute now. She'll be here."

Another contraction was starting and Eostre closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it, her grip on Mike's hand tightening slightly.

"Talk," she forced out, through gritted teeth. "Please."

He can feel the next one coming by the grip of her hand if by nothing else and he fights down panic, holding onto her and searching his suddenly empty brain for something to say.

"Baseball was gonna get me into college," he says, picking up the thread from earlier as the only coherent thing he can think of at the moment. He tightens his arm around her shoulders, hand massaging her skin. "You asked how good I was? I was good enough that scouts came to see me. I was gonna get a scholarship. But then I had to stop playing. So I never went. Couldn't pay for it."

And it didn't matter in the end, anyway. Nothing else really matters. He's here now, and nothing even seems like it exists outside of this.

She couldn't do it if he wasn't there with her. As the pain started, she was absolutely sure of how much she loved him.

"I didn't know..." She lost her words in a gasp, her head falling back against his shoulder. "I didn't know that. So you were really...oh, fuck, Mike...you were really good."

"Yeah, well, I had more important things to do," he says. Like make sure he and his mother weren't evicted.

Like be here.

"Are you..." he starts, feeling more and more frantic and increasingly unable to hide it. "Are you okay? I mean... is it normal for it to hurt like that?"

Stupid question, and it probably is, but he can't ignore the dark possibilities dancing around in the back of his mind.

"It's supposed to hurt," she said, sounding breathless, her eyes squeezed closed as she tried to breathe through it.

"Fuck, Mike. Fuck."

Lily walked in, still wiping wet hands on a clean towel.

"How're we doing?"

She'd bought a blanket and a bowl of water with her.

Mike looks up, unsure if he should get up or move or stay right where he is. He wants to stay. He doesn't want to let go of Eostre's hand. He's suddenly not sure he can.

"I think she's okay," he says. "I don't know, though. Never done this before."

He never thought he would feel so young and helpless again, not in this body.

"Everything's okay," said Eostre, nodding and twisting her head to kiss the corner of Mike's mouth as Lily fussed with water and towels, rolling her sleeves up.

"You can go now, love. Just...don't go far, okay?"

He's nodding, only half paying attention, watching what Lily is doing out of the corner of his eye and worrying...

And then he hears her, and his focus snaps back.

"No, I can't," he says. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

"You have to," said Eostre, having apparently entirely forgotten the fact that Lily was there. "You're not supposed to be here. Afterwards, but not now."

She swallowed and nodded.

"I was scared and I needed you and you came and now I'll be okay."

Yeah, but what about ME? he almost yells, and then stops himself short. Yelling won't help anything. She's the only one allowed to do the yelling here.

"I understand that," he says, keeping his voice calm with a huge effort. "And I know it's not what you're used to. But I need to be here, and I'm not leaving." He moves back a little on the bed, but his body language is that of someone who is utterly determined. "I'm just not."

"But..." Eostre's lip trembled for a second, green eyes brimming with tears (and she wasn't entirely sure where there'd come from.

She knew how things were supposed to be. She understood tht.
She also knew that nobody made her feel as safe as Mike did.

"Tell me they can have your name."

She was dimly aware of LIly looking up, eyebrow arched.

For a few seconds he stares at her, perfectly ready to stand his ground, and then part of him kicks the read of himself in the head and he realizes where he is. What's happening.

It's only a matter of time now before he's holding his daughters in his arms.

"Okay," he says softly, taking her hand again, squeezing.

A tear rolled down Eostre's cheek and she squeezed Mike's hand hard, smiling at him.

She didn't really want him to go anywhere. She never really wanted him out of her sight if she could help it.

"Okay, Lily...what do I do?"

"You'd better get yourself comfortable," said Lily, moving towards the bed. She'd always loved her job, missed practicing as much as she had back in Long Bay and, as she tied her hair back from her face, Lily Strombeck felt totally in her element.

"S'gonna be a long one, eh?"

Her face makes something in his chest catch almost painfully and he's staring at her, holding her hand tight when Lily's voice jolts him out of it. He shakes himself slightly, moves off the bed and back to give them both room. Just because he's going to be there doesn't mean he has to be in the way.

And God, he hopes it won't be a long one.

But somehow he doesn't think any of them are that lucky.

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Life comes at you fast. (for Eostre) - Dated to the 31st

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