I present to you my epic tale of awesomeness: Origins. It is the first part of three, the beginning of a trilogy, if you will. I hadn't intended on posting it yet, but I loved how this first chapter turned out, so it's a little early. I hope you like it!
(Sorry to those of you who have me on alert for other fandoms – give this a try, I think you might enjoy it!)
Disclaimer: Maximum Ride belongs to James Patterson, not me.
The birth was long, difficult and messy, and Valencia was covered in sweat, blood and tears by the time it was finally finished. It almost didn't happen at all, Jeb reflected. Its wings, already more than two feet in length, had complicated things more than they had predicted. But the experiment had survived, and that was what mattered. More than survived - it was thriving. The long birth had provoked some fears of perinatal asphyxia, but after a brief scare where its heart rate slowed below their predicted rates, everything had proceeded as planned. Everyone had breathed a sigh of relief. They could not afford any more failures.
Jeb stopped briefly at the window looking into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, taking in the tufts of blonde hair and downy brown wings speckled with white before continuing his brisk walk to Valencia's room. Caleb had told him that she had been asking about the experiment, even going to far as to refer to it as her baby. Jeb shook his head. It was an experiment, not a child. Still, he allowed a brief surge of pride. It was, after all, his experiment, his genes that had contributed to the success.
Approaching the door, he paused. He knew how stubborn Valencia could be, stemming from many years of experience. But this was something that they had discussed, more than once. Still, he mused, perhaps this was a maternal instinct kicking in. It offered interesting scientific opportunities... but no. She would have to get over it. Any attempts at "protecting" the experiment would be extremely detrimental, not to mention annoying. He pushed the possibility from his mind at the same moment he pushed open the door.
He couldn't deny it - she looked terrible. Though she was sleeping, she was muttering and stirring restlessly. She was sweating, and her hair was still wet from her earlier shower. Despite her caramel-colored skin, she looked pallid. The bags under her eyes had grown more defined, not less, since he had seen her last. Steeling himself, Jeb went to sit beside her bed.
She woke as he approached, breathing heavily and glaring at him. He ignored the expression and sat beside her, taking her hand. Though he was inwardly disgusted at the sweat covering it, he smiled at her.
"Don't give me that look," she snapped, tearing her hand away. "Where is my baby?"
Jeb wiped his hand discreetly on his pant leg and continued to smile. "The experiment is in the NICU, Valencia. You knew it was going there."
"Don't. Call. Her. It," she said, her voice dangerously low. "Even birds have genders, Jeb."
"All experiments are referred to as it," he reminded her. "And this one is no different."
"I would say this one is different!" she screeched, and Jeb flinched. "Considering I gave birth to her!"
Jeb smiled again, "Valencia, Valencia, Valencia," he soothed, "how many times have we been over this? You agreed that minimal contact would be best. As a matter of fact, you signed a waiver."
"Yes, well," and here she seemed to falter for the first time. She may have been stubborn, but she was far from stupid. "I changed my mind," she said, quieting. "I want to see my baby."
Jeb didn't pretend to smile this time. Though he and Valencia had never been romantically interested in one another, she was still a very good friend of his, and he felt sorry for her. She honestly thought that she had a chance of keeping the experiment to herself.
"I'm sorry, Valencia," he said, taking her hand once more. "You and I both know that that's impossible. You gave your notice, remember?" And she had. After recovering from the birth, Valencia was leaving, starting work in a veterinary hospital a few hundred miles away. Most were glad to be rid of her. She had been getting more and more vocal in her protests of the experiments they were running.
"Impossible?" she asked, a few tears leaking out of her eyes, much to Jeb's surprise. Valencia hated when other people saw her cry.
He hesitated. Not much was impossible for him, and Valencia was an old friend. Besides, most of the staff would be too busy getting tipsy to notice anything out of the ordinary... "Well," he said, slowly, "I guess one look couldn't hurt anyone."
"Thank you, Jeb, thank you!" Valencia exclaimed, her smile radiant. She looked much more like a new mother now, he noted with detachment. She made to push the covers away, but Jeb stopped her. "Not now," he said, exasperated, watching her face fall. "Later, when everyone is drunk from the celebrations."
She nodded, though she still looked disappointed. He released her hand and stood, looking to the door.
"Get some sleep," he said on his way out. "You're leaving tomorrow."
He still couldn't quite believe how this had happened - hadn't he entered the room with the intention of letting her down gently, and helping her prepare to leave? He sighed. Things never went quite to plan where Valencia was involved.
His predictions had been correct - besides the staff in the NICU, who were grumbling as they waited for their shifts to end, everyone was busy toasting one another, the champagne flowing much too freely for his tastes. No one would be able to function sufficiently tomorrow. He ran into no troubles on his way to her room, but he hadn't been expecting to.
"Valencia?" he asked, poking his head in the door.
"Right here," she said emerging from the bathroom. She looked much better, he noticed, her skin healthier and her eyes brighter. She was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Right this way," he sighed, still smarting over how easily she had totally and completely convinced him.
She rocketed past him and didn't stop until the end of the hallway, where she slowed and turned. She shot him a look. "Well are you coming or not?" she asked.
He allowed himself a brief, small smile and followed. She was clearly quaking in anticipation, forcing herself to walk more slowly than she obviously wanted to.
"What does she look like?" she asked him suddenly, startling him out of his reverie.
"Well," he began, "the wings are gorgeous. Not fully formed yet, of course, but still, there are wings! I think it may actually eventually be able to fly!"
"What about the actual child?" she asked, anger seeping into her voice. "Or are the wings all that matter, Jeb? She is a real person, born from a real mother – not from a bird. Tell me what she looks like." The command was almost frightening in its intensity, not that Jeb would have ever admitted that.
He paused. "Its hair is blonde," he said, awkwardly, hoping he wasn't mistaken. Valencia's wrath was definitely not something he wanted to provoke. No, it was definitely blonde, he remembered that much.
"Like yours," Valencia stated, and Jeb started. He hadn't considered looking for similarities to himself, only thought of how, out of all the DNA strands they had tried, his was the strand that had worked. It gave him a somewhat twisted sense of pleasure – almost some sort of payback for the years of bullying he had endured in elementary school, before he had wised up and learned martial arts. It was validation that he was good for something, no matter what anyone else said.
"What about her eyes?" Valencia asked when Jeb didn't continue. "What color are they?"
"Brown," he muttered, again hoping he was right, trying to remember the tiny face, and not the marvelous wings attached to her back.
"Like mine!" she exclaimed, almost childishly, obviously glad of some shared trait. Jeb didn't respond, and it was in that second that they rounded the corner that led to the NICU. The ward was dark save for a soft nightlight in the corner. There were two technicians on duty that night, but they were both friends of Jeb's, as well as dependent on his good will, so they let the two of them in with no fuss.
Valencia moved as if in a trance to the only occupied incubator, where the experiment lay. As she got closer, Jeb thought he could see tears leaking out of her eyes, but he couldn't be too sure. With a look a one of the technicians, who nodded, Valencia went to pick up the experiment. Jeb was too fascinated by the interaction to worry about the repercussions of this, or to remember that he had only promised her a look.
She picked her up, the wings not an obstacle at all, and the expression on her face was one of marvel. Jeb thought that in the dim light, she looked something like an angel, radiant and bright. Cooing at the still-sleeping baby, she ran one of her fingers down the side of her cheek. The experiment let out a small breath and settled in Valencia's arms. Valencia sniffled, and then laid a light kiss on the small forehead.
"My baby," she crooned, "My baby. Welcome to the world, little one."