"Where is he!" the Doctor yelled between contractions.
"He is here, my lord," the surgeon answered.
"Then...why isn't...he...here," the Doctor panted.
"You are in an operating theatre, it is sterile and we cannot risk infection."
"Why can't I feel my babies?" the Doctor cried, his voice rising in panic and he tried to sit up.
"There's been a rupture of the placenta and the babies are distressed and we had to induce labour. You must stay calm, my lord," the surgeon said as the monitors showed the Doctor's and the babies hearts rates increasing.
"If you do not calm yourself, you will distress the babies more."
"Liar, they're dead, dead and inside me!" the Doctor cried.
"No, my lord...calm yourself and listen."
The Doctor took a deep breath and there...he could hear it, hearts beat that were not his own.
"My babies...sweet Rassilon!" he cried as another contraction hit him and he started to bear down.
"No, my Lord, you must not push," the surgeon said.
"I have to...the pain."
"No, my lord. One of the babies has breached. I need to turn it, so I need you to fight the contractions. This will feel...uncomfortable."
The surgeon carefully inserted his hand inside the birth slit and began to turn the baby, whose back was pressing against the opening.
The Master shot out of his seat at the cry of pain that filtered through the theatre door.
What were they doing?
He went to go towards the doors but was stopped by another nurse.
"I'm sorry, my lord Master, but you cannot go in."
"But they're hurting him," the Master snarled.
"My lord, do not worry. I am monitoring the birth," the nurse said and tapped the small disc on her temple.
Her voice softened. "One of the babies was breeched but the surgeon has successfully turned it."
The Master's hearts faltered...more complications. Was this birth cursed?
"Please do not worry, the surgeon is the best there is."
The Master looked again at the doors; he should not be going through this without him.
"My lord," the nurse said. "The first baby is on its way."
"Now push, the head is crowning," the surgeon said.
"Irlia resh mesca," the Doctor growled
"One final push."
"F'aiesh!" the Doctor swore as it felt like he was pushing his insides out.
"Here come the shoulders, one more push."
The Doctor gritted his teeth and with encouragement from one of the nurses bore down once more. He felt something slide free and the pain lessened, slightly.
He dropped his head back on the bed and the nurse gave him some ice chips and wiped the sweat from his face.
"You have a son, my lord. Now relax and save your strength, his sister isn't far behind."
The surgeon turned away with the baby and placed it on the scales. "A good weight my lord, seven pounds."
The baby was quiet but he didn't know if that was normal for Time Lord off-spring, he had no experience, but who did.
He cleared the baby's mouth and nose of fluid and checked the baby's reflexes, all fine.
It was then that he heard the words he didn't want to hear, the sound of the monitors going crazy.
"Sir," the nurse said.
"Keep him still!" the surgeon snapped.
The Doctor was writhing in silent agony and the nurses were finding it hard to hold him down.
The Doctor's blood pressure had suddenly dropped and the remaining baby was showing signs of severe distress and the surgeon had to do the one thing he didn't want to do and deliver the baby himself.
"Nearly there," he said.
His hand was inside the birth sac and now his forearm and grasped hold of the baby's head.
"You'd better lock those doors," he said.
"Come on," he muttered as it refused to move...time was running out; finesse and delicacy was now out of the question and he pulled.
The Doctor let out an ear-shattering scream and the baby boy suddenly wailed as if it was feeling its sibling and the Doctor's pain.
The Master's patience finally snapped when the scream mixed with the wail of a child came from behind the doors.
"Enough of this!" he roared and pushed past the nurse and went to throw the doors open but found himself on the floor.
He was picked up by two of his personal guards and was restrained at the request of the nurse.
"Lord Master...you must stay out of the theatre. You will not help the Lord Doctor, only distress him more!" she said sharply.
The Master snarled at her incoherently.
"I don't care who you are...my concern is for the Lord Doctor and the babies. You will wait!"
The surgeon ignored the commotion outside as he placed the little figure on the scale...only four
pounds.
"Oh, little one, you are a fighter," he said as the little girl squirmed under his hands. "I hope your...well, I suppose he's your mother, I hope he's a fighter too."
"Doctor, his blood pressure is falling again."
He scowled when the monitor began to beep in alarm.
"His left heart is going into arrhythmia," the nurse said.
"Oh no, you are not leaving those babies without a mother. Fifty cc's of digo-adenosine and another bag of blood and push those fluids."
The Doctor could hear voices, but they seemed far away.
He was standing at the Gates and the voices were not important. He stepped closer to the Gates and could smell the Medoa Blossom and he could see the red grass.
He was about to step through the Gates when a sound came that broke the spell of the death...it was the sound of new life...the cries of the newborn...his babies.
He took in a sharp breath and opened his eyes and blinked at the bright lights.
A face appeared above him...the surgeon?
Then it all flooded back, the river...the agony of labour and fear gripped his entire being.
"My babies?" he asked.
The surgeon smiled. "They're fine."
He gestured to his left and the midwife and the nurse appeared each with a tiny bundle.
"Your son and daughter, my Lord. They are healthy and have healthy sets of lungs."
The Doctor really wasn't paying attention as he was given his babies.
"Hello," he said softly and two pair of amber-gold flecked eyes looked back at him and two sets of tiny hands reached for him.
He knew what they wanted but he couldn't give that to them. He looked at the midwife, who bowed.
"I will get the formula, my Lord."
The Master stopped struggling...not because of the nurse's words but the sounds of the doors being unlocked and the midwife came out.
Another sound came from within the theatre; the sounds of new life.
"You can let him in now," the midwife said.
The Master needed no encouragement and quickly went inside and stopped.
Before him was the most wonderful sight...the Doctor and in his arms were their babies.
The midwife stopped as soon as she was out of ear-shot and pulled out her com.
"The babies survived the birth as did the Doctor...yes, I understand. Tell them to be at the west gate at midnight tomorrow. Yes...I will have the babies, they suspect nothing."
Author's Notes:
Translation
Irlia resh mesca- I am pushing
f'aiesh- Gallifreyan swear word.