Screams and Sacrifice
It felt like a nightmare. Isabelle was screaming beside him, clutching his hand with a strength that hurt, the lights under her skin were going haywire, there was blood everywhere. The nurses, the midwife, had informed him that they couldn't give her anymore drugs without harming her or the baby so she was left to scream. Hank had never felt so helpless in all his life,
"Keep pushing,I can see the head, push nowthere's a good girl" The midwife kept up a steady stream of encouragement. Isabelle collapsed back panting and moaning in pain. Hank reached out to push the damp tendrils of hair from her sweat soaked skin, she gazed up at him, trying to smile though he could see the fear in her eyes,
"You're doing great, just great love" He babbled, no idea what he was talking about, "but you've got to push, just a little bit more"
"I'm so t-tired" She moaned, chest heaving,
"I know, I know but just one more push and you can rest, ok?" He smiled down at her with all the encouragement and love he could muster, "I'll get Bobby to make us some ice cream after, ok? I'll run you a bath and we can curl up with junior but you've got to push, love please" He was almost begging, willing the pain to end. She smiled weakly and nodded, almost curling in on herself,
"That's it, good girl, harder, harder…here we go" The midwife turned away, a small bundle of flesh and towels in her hand, "And here we are!"
"Is that it?" Hank asked, feeling his wife-to-be's hand go limp in his own,
"Congratulations, Dr McCoy" The midwife beamed at him, handing over the bundle, "it's a healthy baby boy" Hank stared down at the child in his hands. Pink skinned and wrinkly, still covered in amniotic fluids and blood, wisps of indigo hair plastered to his tiny skull…Hank had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life,
"Isabelle, look" He leant down, sitting on the chair beside her, holding the baby up for her to see, "our baby boy, our son" He looked up, beaming with pride and relief to see his lover's eyes shut, a serene expression on her face, "Isabelle?" A sickly, dark horror crept up his neck even as the midwife pressed her fingers to Isabelle's throat,
"Flat line" The midwife said in stern tones, her eyes suddenly becoming hard, "get Corrolo in here, get Dr McCoy out – now!" A machine was wheeled over even as someone brought Hank to his feet,
"I'm afraid you have to leave now, Dr McCoy" Someone was saying sternly,
"What's going on? Isabelle!" He called, "no!" The baby was taken from him,
"We need to get him fed, Dr McCoy, please, wait outside" Covered in her blood, scared and panicking, Hank McCoy was pushed out into the hospital corridor.