Chapter One Special

The morgue was so cold, even Eskimos would have complained, yet Valentine didn't even seemed bothered by the temperature. Hodge, on the other hand, was shivering so badly his skin seemed to vibrate, and his cheeks were pink.

"Hurry up!" Valentine snapped tiredly at his partner, "We gotta do this quick, it can't live in her for long." The other man nodded furiously, and picked up his pace.

"That's her, isn't it?" He pointed at the body covered by a thin sheet that didn't even reach her toes. He whipped out a knife and handed it to Hodge.

"Yes sir," Hodge's voice trembled as he spoke, and all he could think was how cold she must be under that sheet, and how of course she is cold, cause she's dead and she's gone and that baby is likely the same.

Valentine didn't even hesitate as he whipped the sheet off of Celine Herondale, leaving her completely naked before the two men. Her skin was pale, ashy, her eyes permanently shut, her hair a dark tangle. She could have been some sick doll but for her stomach, a large round hump that stretched out unnaturally from her otherwise fit body.

Hodge didn't wait for his companion to shout at him, he went right ahead, carefully slicing into her abdomen. He cut through layer after layer silently, holding his breath the entire time.

Finally, he reached in and pulled something out, something tiny and pink.

"I got it!" Hodge shouted proudly, holding the infant out to Valentine. It was crying weakly.

Valentine made no move to take the child.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" He inquired, his face blank and emotionless despite the birth of the baby that he would raise.

"I think it's a boy," He said slowly after glancing at the newborn. "C'mon, take him." Hodge once again tried to hand the little boy over, and this time Valentine took him, and cradled him in his arms gently, with the same care that he would hold Jonathan. He didn't glance at his son, didn't speak to him, just held him as his partner dug into the bag they had brought filled with diapers, clothing, and blankets, as it was pretty cold out.

Suddenly he let out a little noise of disgust.

Hodge frowned. "What's wrong?"

"He shit on me!" He exclaimed in horror and sat the kid down on the floor. Sure enough, there was a small dark stain on his shirt. "The little shit took a shit on me," He muttered in disbelief.

He turned to Hodge, who was smiling like an idiot. "Aww shut up an hand me one of them before the little turd(no pun intended) does it again."

He grudgingly obeyed and Valentine had the infant diapered and dressed up in a soft, baby-blue sleeper from Jonathan's earliest days within minutes.

"Let's go," Valentine stood up and grabbed the little bundle.

"But wait!" Hodge hopped up, grabbing the bag and turned to him."What's his name?"

"Jonathan Christopher," He said without even pausing to think.

"But that's-" Hodge blurted out.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, he's just a replacement, nothin' special." Valentine muttered dismissively.

Young Jonathan didn't know that, however. He opened up his little golden brown eyes and his little mouth puckered up into what resembled a smile, despite such an act not normally occurring until later in life. He curled up against his new father's bicep and drifted off to the sound of a his heart beat.

The sun was rising as they took the child, the orphaned child, the replacement, the child with a borrowed name, the child that was

special.