TWIST OF FATE

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! You make my day. This chapter is...well...a bit heartbreaking, so get your handkerchiefs out of your pockets.

Chapter 2

"Sorry. Come again. What do you mean 'a Caesarean birth isn't recommended'"? Peter was furious and clueless at the same time. He paced on the floor and tried to keep his voice low. El was in the room, waiting for him, but before he went back in, he needed some answers. So he turned and faced Dr. Waterson who was standing next to him. They had talked about the complications indicating that the baby wasn't alive anymore. There was no movement and Dr. Waterson hadn't been able to detect a heartbeat via ultrasound. But Peter hadn't been able to pay full attention since his thoughts were with Elizabeth and the baby. He shook his head. He needed to concentrate. "There must be a mistake! Elizabeth was fine this morning. She...there were no problems at all!"

Dr. Waterson acted sympathetic and she repeated her statement. "Mr. Burke, please, calm down. As far as we concerned, there's no immediate health risk to your wife and labor will usually begin spontaneously after two weeks, so it's possible to wait and birth the fetal rem-"

Peter held up his index finger and silenced the doctor with this gesture. "Don't." He shook his head once more. Right now he couldn't deal with that thought, so he chose not bring up the topic. Putting his hands on his hips, he bent his head down and closed his eyes for moment in order to try to control his feelings. He had to be strong for El. Taking deep breaths he weighted his options and looked up. "What are…," his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat, "…what do you suggest?"

Stepping into the room a few minutes later, Peter's heart broke when he saw the motionless figure lying on the exam table. He carefully approached his obviously sleeping wife. They had given her a sedative to calm her down and shut down the blinds a bit, but she wasn't completely unaware. Someone had covered her with a blanket. Her eyes opened up a bit when he touched her hand. Peter could tell that she had been crying, seeing her puffy eyes. He caressed her back, moving his hand in small circles. The lump on his throat as back again and for a few seconds it seemed that he had lost his voice when he opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He managed a weak smile and stroked El's cheek with his free hand. "Hon? We…we need to go to the hospital," he whispered softly not wanting to startle her.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. She looked at him, not saying a word. She just stared at him. Silently pleading with him to do something, but she didn't seem coherent enough to actually formulate the words. Instead she clutched at his hand and didn't let go. More tears formed in her eyes.

Peter wiped them away with his thumb. It was hard looking at her, because he fought back the tears himself. God, those beautiful yet anxious big blue eyes. He felt goose bumps on his arms and shivered. "It's time to go," he said. "The paramedics are already waiting." His heart felt so heavy and he couldn't suppress a sigh. "It's time to go, hon."

This felt so surreal.

Yet he was by El's side, stroking her temple, whispering encouraging words to her while she was in pain. The doctors had given her medication through IV's to start contractions. She was crying and whimpering and he felt helpless. He never had felt so helpless before in his life. Nevertheless he didn't want to show El how he really felt, so he forced himself to put on a friendly face even if he wasn't sure he was successful with that. "You're doing great, hon," he said to her, caressing her hand. Inside he wanted to scream at this ridiculous scene. He wanted to scream out his anger, wanted to strike something, someone with his fists. He was terrified and he didn't know how he should face reality and didn't know what to do. For one of the few times in his adult life he didn't know what to do.

The whole clinical staff was trying to act as normal as possible but Peter could tell that they were sad as well. Although he was sure that they had seen such scenarios before, it was also clear that all of them were well aware of the tragedy that took place in front of their eyes.

Maybe this was a mistake? Or a bad dream? What if Dr. Waterson had been wrong? Surely El and the baby were alright. They had to be alright. El had been to all the preventive exams, everything was okay. The baby was healthy and so was El. They had been cautious. He had been reading all those books. He had made sure that El was lacking nothing and had insisted that she had been resting enough and all that other stuff. She and the baby had been alright! They had been alright this morning. How could this have happened at all? Had he done something wrong? Maybe he should have insisted that El had stayed at home more and cut back her work at the art gallery. Dammit.

"Don't forget to breathe nice and slowly," one of the doctors said.

Peter's mind snapped back into reality and he cleared his throat. "You're doing great," he said once more. "It'll be over soon."

How much time had passed Peter couldn't tell. But suddenly the delivery room went silent and he could feel how the atmosphere changed. A cold shiver rand down his spine and he looked at El who was crying. She was so vulnerable right now, so delicate. And he didn't know what to do to ease her pain. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths. The anger was back, but was replaced by deep grief as he saw one of the nurses carrying the baby away. They didn't know the gender since they wanted it to be a surprise. Now all he could think of was his child which wasn't crying at all. The silence was almost unbearable.

El didn't stop crying, despite the fact that she was very exhausted but she refused to calm down when one of the doctors approached her. "Where are you taking my baby?" she asked over and over again, her head spinning around, looking for the baby. "Where is it? I want my baby!"

"Hon, please," Peter tried to soothe her. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" she shot back, tears in her eyes. "I want my baby! Peter! Please. I just want my baby back."

"They are doing everything they can." Even to him his words were hollow. "I'm gonna talk to the doctor, okay?" He had absolutely no idea how to manage this, but he had to do something. He couldn't give up now. Maybe there was still a small chance; now that the child was born the doctors could treat it better. Turning around, he looked at the doctor and rose stiffly. Taking a few steps he had closed the distance between them. "Where did you take the baby?" He had been so focused on El that he didn't notice that the baby wasn't there anymore.

A nurse came back and went to the doctor, talking quietly to him.

Next, the doctor turned towards Peter, taking him by the arm and led them to a private corner. Talking to him quietly, he tried to explain what was going on. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do," he said.

"But," Peter croaked, "you have to do something. There must be something you can do!" he insisted. He didn't care if he sounded desperate. Hell, he WAS desperate. He would give everything to save the newborn's life.

"I'm truly sorry Mr. Burke, but-"

"No! No. No. NO. Don't you dare to give up right now. For heaven's sake! There must be something you can do!" Shaking his head, he pointed to the doctor. "You...," he had to swallow, "...you can't give up now."

"Mr. Burke," the doctor said, his consternation was clearly written on his face, "please calm down."

"I'm not gonna calm down," he answered furiously, but still he managed to keep his voice low so that El couldn't hear him. "You are all wrong! Why aren't you helping the baby?!"

"You're upset. That's completely understandable, but I would like to suggest that you take something to calm your nerves."

"No, I'm not gonna take some pills," Peter growled and grew more agitated with each second that passed. "I insist that you keep working on the baby. Dammit!"

"Sir...please...if you don't calm down, your wife gets more upset than she already is," the doctor tried to sound logical. "I know it's very hard for both of you and again, I'm truly sorry. But you're not helping her, if you're upset yourself. Try to take deep breaths, control yourself." Glancing over to where El was, he sighed. "I would recommend that she'll get a light sedative."

Not liking the thought, Peter hesitated for a moment following the doctor's view. It broke his heart seeing El in pain and so confused. After a few seconds, he closed his eyes and then nodded his agreement. After that he went back to El, tucking a strand of hair away from her sweaty forehead. With a handkerchief he gently dabbed away the many tears. While he talked to her, a nurse injected something to El's IV line and soon after, he could feel her relaxing.

The doctor seemed to relax, too. "We need to make a few more exams and then we will bring her to a private room, Mr. Burke. Do you want to wait outside?"

Peter shook his head. "What I want is to see my," he paused, gulping hard, "our child. Where did you take it? I don't even know its gender!"

"I'll show you the way."

Entering the pediatric ICU section was the hardest thing he had done so far. Knowing what would await him made it almost unbearable to deal with the situation. The room was filled with all sorts of medical stuff, machines were beeping constantly. He could see 6 incubators all occupied with tiny little infants fighting for their lives. The doctor led him to another incubator, but this one wasn't closed. For a moment it seemed impossible for Peter to get near it and he stopped. He could feel his heart heavily pumping, beating against his chest. His mouth was dry.

The man closed the curtain so that they had at least a bit of privacy. Pointing to a recliner, he said, "If you want to sit down-"

Shaking his head, Peter slowly went to the incubator, still afraid to touch the pale, motionless baby as if touching it would break it. The baby was covered with a blanket, which was tucked under its chin and on first glance you couldn't be sure if it was only sleeping. He startled as he felt a hand on his arm and looked at the mournful face of the doctor. In an instant, his whole world fell apart and without even wanting it, he reached for the man and hugged him. "Please," he mumbled, "please do something. Anything." Tears fell down his cheeks but he didn't care. Still he hoped that the baby would stir, would start crying and everything would be okay. But nothing happened.

"There's only one thing left to do," the doctor said quietly and started to rub Peter's back in order to soothe the mourning man. "Say goodbye to him and then you should go back to your wife, Mr. Burke. She needs you. We will take care of him. I'll make sure that he's in good hands. I promise."

He. Now he knew. A boy. His son. Involuntary he began to shiver although he wasn't freezing. His whole body ached and he felt exhausted. Licking his dry lips he let go of the man and took a step back, searching for a handkerchief in his pockets. The doctor offered him one and Peter thankfully accepted it, wiping his face. "No," he managed to say. Seeing the confused look at his opponents face, Peter cleared his throat. "I-I don't want others to...I mean, I want to hold him."

"Of course," the man nodded. "I'll call a nurse so that she can dress him and you can wait outside. I'll let you know when-"

Again, Peter cut him off. "No. No. I won't leave him here alone." He shook his head. "I'll do it. I'll dress him." After a short pause, he added, "It's the least I can do for him."

"Are you sure? I don't want to offend you, Mr. Burke. But...," he stopped and was apparently searching for the right words, but then he seemed to understand. "Okay, " he finally nodded. "I'll get you something to dress him in. I'll be right back." Slipping through the curtain, he left Peter behind.

Peter couldn't tear his eyes apart from the ba- from their son. The nurses had cleaned him up and even seeing him at such a close range, one could think he was just sleeping. They had agreed on the name Timothy James and looking at him, he could see so much resemblance with El. The dark hair, the nose. Sighing Peter finally stepped close to him and reached out with a shaky hand. Surprisingly Timothy didn't feel cold but perhaps that was due to the fact that he lay in the incubator and he had been born recently. His skin was soft and Peter let his big fingers trace the outlines of his son's little face. A sob escaped Peter's lips and he turned away for a second. Even though he knew that it was time to let go, he couldn't. This wasn't fair. He wasn't a very religious man, but right now he sent a prayer up to heaven or whoever was responsible up there.

It was then when the doctor entered again and handed him a stack of clothes. "I have to go. If you need any help, just let one of the nurses know, okay?"

"Is there...any chance I can bring him to my wife? She wants to see him." The thought of it let him once again shiver slightly. He had no idea how El would actually react. But she had demanded to see the baby and he wasn't willing to refuse her wish.

"You can put him in one of those mobile cribs. I'll arrange that your wife will be moved to a room next to this."

"Thank you."

~ ~ ~

If he had thought that entering the pediatric ICU section was the hardest thing, he now learned that he had been clearly wrong. Stepping into Elizabeth's room was much harder. It felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. His chest was tight, his heart broken. To imagine how Elizabeth was handling this was almost too much to bear, but she had the right to see her son. Without making too much noise he opened the door a bit further so that the nurse could wheel in the crib. After that she gave him a sympathetic look and went away. The silence in the room stood in contrast to the noisy pediatric ICU and Peter needed some time to adjust. He couldn't think straight right now, but he knew one thing. He had to be strong for El. She depended on him. She trusted him.

Somehow she must have felt his presence because she opened her eyes but didn't immediately focus on him. It was like her mind was fogged, and it certainly was. Almost inaudibly, she whispered, "Peter?"

Hearing her weak voice, Peter took a deep breath. "Yeah, hon?"

Instead of answering verbally, she reached out towards him, tears welling up in her eyes.

Without hesitation, Peter was by her side, taking her hand, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "Everything will be alright. Please don't cry," he said but didn't sound convincing at all.

"Where's my baby? What happened? Is everything okay?"

Peter closed his eyes. "He's...," he started, but then his voice cracked, "...I'm so sorry, El."

"H-he? A boy?" she looked up to him and Peter thought he could see her smiling briefly.

"Yes," Peter nodded sadly, "a boy. A beautiful boy. He looks just like you."

"Where is he?"

"He's right there, hon."

"I want to see him. Hold him." She tried to sit up, but failed.

"Wait, wait. Let me help you," Peter said and grabbed the remote control for the head-rest. After he lifted it up, he pushed the pillow a bit under her back all the while being careful with her IV. "Is it okay that way? Are you comfortable?"

"It's okay," she replied silently, but couldn't hide a wince as she moved.

After handing her the baby, he backed away and simply watched her cradling the infant. El's lips moved but he couldn't hear a sound until he bend forward. She kept whispering the boy's name while at the same time the tears ran down her cheeks. Looking at their son and then at El, Peter made a decision and carefully climbed onto the bed, trying not to disturb her. Caressing her cheeks he studied her sorrowful face and realized she wasn't comfortable at all. He let out a sigh when he felt her weight against his chest, knowing that she needed the contact. But in spite of everything she seemed composed. When he closed his eyes, he could pretend that everything was alright. For a moment they were the family he looked forward to since El had told him about her pregnancy. For a moment nothing else mattered.

TBC