Alternate Universe: Kimblee lives through the Promised Day.

It was finally the day she had been waiting (not so) patiently for nearly nine months, but when the room is silent, Olivier's mind thinks the worst.

Pairing: Implied Olivier/Kimblee.


Olivier looked like she had been through Hell and back, her entire body hurt. She didn't know how her mother pulled it off five different times. "One more push, General. I can see the head." The doctor's voice was calm, despite being at this for a little over seven hours. Every nerve on her body screamed out as she bared down again. Olivier's hands squeezed at the father's and took a deep breath, listening to the count of the nurse.

She never wanted a child in the first place. She wasn't made to be a mother. Then why did her heart stop when the doctor set her new born infant on the covered table beside her and she didn't hear the cry? "Solf… What's going on?" She asked, out of breath. Her blue eyes searched for a trace of emotion on the doctor's face as he rubbed the baby down with a towel.

"Nurse, could you come here, please?" The doctor asked and Olivier let out a quiet whimper. The tone in his voice made her heart clench. That tone never lead to anything good. "Tell me what's going on?" She yelled, releasing Kimblee's hand to brace herself against the bed. The silence in the room was unbearable.

Silence was bad.

She had spent months readying herself for motherhood, Olivier wasn't going to let her baby die. It would mean she failed another person she loved…

Someone she hadn't even laid eyes on yet.

"Marcho, tell me ri—" A loud wail broke the tense silence in the room. With a sigh, the doctor beckoned Kimblee from her side. "Kimblee, if you would please cut the cord." The doctor said over the screams. Olivier fell back into her bed, throwing an exhausted arm over her eyes.

The blonde lowered her arm from her eyes as she heard the crying coming closer. She looked to Marcho, who wore a tired smile on his face. "Congratulations, Mister Kimblee and General Armstrong. It's a boy." Her face dropped slightly, glancing up to the father of her baby.

"Looks like it's Solf J. Kimblee Jr. for the win," He said with a smirk, lowering the baby carefully into Olivier's arms as he took a seat next to her in the bed. Taking another deep breath, she moved the fabric from the baby's face, sighing when she saw dark hair. "That explains all the heart burn," she mumbled, ghosting her hand over the top of his head.

The baby's crying quieted slightly at her touch, and Olivier bit her lip, holding back her tears. She leaned into Solf slightly, ignoring the pain in her body. Her pride could be repaired tomorrow. For now, Olivier sat in the near silence of the room, holding the one thing… person that she never knew she would need.