Chapter 4: Unexpected

Jane had never anticipated just how tired pregnancy would make her, but she was more exhausted than she ever had been from chasing criminals. As she and Kurt sat outside of the cabin next to a still smoldering campfire, she napped.

When she woke, she was still across his lap. His head was leaning against hers, his lips pressed to the top her head. She could tell he was awake because his thumb would occasionally stroke her arm where his hand held her tight. "Oh god," she said as she woke more fully.

"What?" he asked.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long… a few days," he teased, chuckling as she smacked his chest in retaliation.

She sat up, attempting a pouty face that melted when he rubbed her back, easing the ache that never seemed to fade in the last few days.

"About an hour," he finally confessed after she rested her head on his shoulder again.

"Sorry."

"Why?"

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you…at least not for that long."

"Growing a tiny super-human is a lot of work."

"It is," she smiled sleepily.

The second trimester had been more fun. She had had a sudden explosion of abundant energy, a supercharged libido, and seemed to be even sharper than normal. The third trimester was more tiring, especially after her fitness routine and long days at work. She also had to pee almost twice as often, and waking at night to do so interrupted her sleep even more.

She looked down at her belly and said, "Try something new. Could you maybe tap-dance on my ribs for a while? Or even my spine?"

Weller smiled as he knew why she was griping at their child. She stood up and stretched. "Bathroom is right down that path," he pointed.

When she followed the path, she realized he'd selected the cabin closest to the bathrooms. The path was lit, but poorly, and that made the rest of her senses perk up automatically. She knew Kurt was following her, although he didn't make a sound. She could feel him. When she came out of the bathroom, she walked a few steps and then said, "Come out here and walk with me instead of stalking from the shadows."

He stepped reluctantly into the light. "No… I just…I figured," he winced. "I don't know what I figured. I wasn't stalking you. I was just seeing if you are okay."

"That sounds exactly like what a stalker would say," she gently teased.

He dropped his gaze in a slightly defeated way, and she decided not to complain about his overprotectiveness. After all, the day had been a reminder of so many of the losses he'd experienced, and if it made him feel better to keep an eye on her tonight, she was going to allow it.

Instead of complaining, she held out her arm and wiggled her fingers. "Quit lurking and take a walk with me."

As they walked, the conversation turned to names. Choosing a name had been a much more complicated task than either had expected. "We have to remember, he's stuck with this name forever," Jane said.

"That's exactly my point," Kurt responded. "Which is why I prefer something less weird and artsy."

"Weird and artsy?" she huffed. "So what…something more masculine? Butch Superman? Or is that still too subtle for you?"

"It's not a matter of sounding masculine. I prefer something a little more traditional. Not Picasso Rainforest or whatever you wanted," he teased.

"I did not suggest either of those names," she countered. "And, you know…our son may be an artist. I'm an artist. And I'm still perfectly capable of kicking ass."

"Why do I feel like this is a very dangerous slope I'm standing on the edge of?"

"He might be a yogi, or a painter. An MMA fighter. A butcher. A doctor. An FBI Agent…we don't know."

"I'm fine with any of those things," Kurt defended. "I just want a name that's an actual name. Something that wasn't made up within the last ten years…something that existed when I was born."

"Way back then? Well that really limits our options. Clarence? Harold? Geezer…Geezer Weller…that has a nice ring to it."

"Har har," he wryly answered.

Her voice growing more serious, she said, "What about Taylor? That's gender neutral. Or something similar…Tyler?"

"I don't want to do that," Kurt shook his head.

"I thought you might like to as a mem—"

"I don't. I don't want him to have those shadows hanging over him. You're right…he might be an artist or a fighter or a healer…hell, I don't know. But this life is his, and only his. And no matter what he becomes, he's going to be the absolute best at it. I can tell."

Jane smiled and nodded. "So you don't want to name him Kurt 2.0?"

He boasted, "Nah. Too much to live up to. I don't want to put all of that pressure on him right out of the gate. We'll let him be his own man."

"It's just a name, why is this so hard?"

They had such a pleasant night, walking beneath the moonlight, curling up together in their cozy cabin. It was a reprieve that both had truly needed. In the morning, Jane woke, and couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. "What?" he asked for the fifteenth time that day.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head as she patted her tummy. "I just…something isn't right."

He pulled her into a hug. They'd had this conversation before many times. "After what Shepherd did to you—to us the last time, it's perfectly reasonable to be scared. But she's gone. And she cannot hurt our son. He's fine. You've protected him and kept him safe all these weeks. It's just a matter of waiting for him now." Kurt was so reassuring and calm, like he always was every time she worried about this.

"I'm being crazy, right?" she said aloud, hoping to make it true.

"You're not crazy. You're worried. Just like I worried about you last night. We've been through so much. But we're going to be just fine. And so is he."

Jane seemed to be appeased for a while, but as they drove back, the weight of worry was still heavy upon her. "I'm sorry," she apologized preemptively. "I just…something isn't right."

"You in pain or bleeding or something?" he asked, worriedly looking back and forth between her and the road.

"No. He just…feels different."

"There's a hospital at the next exit," he said.

"You don't have to humor me."

"I'm not. I trust your instincts."

"I'll just call my OB and see what she says. We'll be home soon. I trust her."

"You sure you want to wait?" he asked, pointing at the sign for a hospital. "I don't mind."

"I'm sure I'm just worrying about nothing." Jane poked at her stomach, waiting for the kick or push back that never seemed to come.

Jane's doctor met them at her office. Dr. Lawrence was an older woman, sweet and patient, who'd obviously delivered plenty of babies over the years. "It's normal to worry," the doctor reassured. "But we'll do a quick ultrasound to put your mind at ease."

Kurt and Jane had discussed their past with the doctor, wanting to work with just one person instead of a group of doctors in the final weeks of the pregnancy. They were so relieved when they'd found someone who made Jane feel comfortable.

Dr. Lawrence didn't look reassured when she listened for the heartbeat, though. She prepped the ultrasound machine and turned the monitor away from the couple. "What is it?" Jane asked, nervously. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Dr. Lawrence smiled and said, "I have exciting news. You're going to have this baby tonight."

"I can't!" Jane yelled. "We're not ready. We have a few weeks yet."

"You are ready," Lawrence replied. "And one of the first lessons all new parents learn…is that children are very unpredictable." She called for an ambulance to transport them to the hospital.

"What the hell's going on?" Kurt asked after the doctor hung up, nearly grabbing for his gun to force some answers out of her before he restrained himself.

"Your son appears to be in distress."

"Why?" Jane asked. "What happened?"

"The best thing for him right now is for you to stay calm," the doctor assured. "But we need to do a C-section as soon as possible. It appears that there may be a blockage in the umbilical cord, perhaps a knot. I'm not quite sure. These blockages range in severity, from very mild to severe… But he's not getting enough of the nutrients and oxygen he needs. We could induce labor, but that can take time. The best thing to do, in my opinion, is get him out as soon as we can. I'll let the two of you decide."

Kurt and Jane looked at each other for a moment, and both nodded. "Let's go," Kurt answered.

The ambulance ride was a blur. Kurt held Jane's hand, and she kept a vice grip on him to make sure he stayed by her side. When he'd sat at the cabin by the fire the night before, he'd had no idea it might be their last night alone before their son would be born. He closed his eyes and silently hoped that they'd have a hundred sleepless nights in the weeks to come. The alternative terrified him. He felt sick, could hear his heart pounding in his head. He vowed that he'd never complain about a sleepless night if he and Jane could just have this child, a healthy kid to take home. If something happened to this baby…he didn't even want to think about that scenario.

In the hospital, they prepped, wasting no time. Kurt was pushed into a room to dress in scrubs before he hurried to Jane's side. He kept kissing her fingers through the surgical mask he was forced to wear. They were told that at 35 ½ weeks, their child's lungs were fully formed. But no one could promise them a healthy baby at the end of the day. The sheer speed with which everything happened made it all the more frightening.

He looked into his wife's eyes and said, "I can't wait to meet our son."

"Me too," she said, but the terror in her expression was obvious.

There was nothing either of them could do but wait. Neither of them could threaten their way out of this situation, or negotiate or fight. At the moment when it felt like their whole future was on the line, they were powerless. They tried not to think of the night Shepherd had ended their first pregnancy so many years ago, but with Jane strapped to a table, it was hard not to draw parallels. They'd never really considered the thought that a C-section might be necessary. Jane was healthy, the pregnancy was uncomplicated, and everything had seemed to be going fine.

There was a sudden flurry of activity, and then the tiniest, most pathetic scream they'd ever heard. The tears that followed were from sheer relief. "He's okay?" Jane yelled past the curtain, trying to move but finding that her body wouldn't respond.

"Stay still, dear," the doctor said, circling the table and carefully placing the wrapped infant in Jane's arms. The doctor said, "You can hold him for a minute. Then we need to do his assessments and clean him up. After that, I promise you can have him back."

"You can't take him," Jane said, staring down into unfocused squinty eyes before looking back at her husband. She wanted Kurt to take the child and run.

"We're just going to assess him," Dr. Lawrence promised. "We need to know if he needs our help. I will do it personally. I will not let anything happen to him."

"You want to hold him before they take him?" Jane offered Kurt, already looking pained at the thought of letting go.

Kurt moved to the top of the table and sat behind her, wrapping his arms around hers so they were both holding the child. "You hang onto him," he replied, knowing and not caring in the least that he was crying with absolute joy, and fear, and a new type of love that made him feel all at once invincible and powerless. It was a very strange feeling.

"Okay," the doctor said to Jane, "just give us a few minutes. They're going to finish stitching you up."

Jane looked at Kurt, refusing to hand their son to anyone else, and she said, "Promise me you won't leave his side. You won't let him out of your sight."

"I promise," he said, nodding emphatically.

Kurt followed, feeling torn already within the first few moments of fatherhood. He still felt he need to be there with Jane, to guard her, and yet his child needed him, too, and he'd promised Jane not to let the child out of his sight. Good to his word, he trained his eyes on their son, arms crossed as he watched everything that happened.

After several minutes, they determined that the baby was well enough to be reunited with his parents. With the baby in a tall, mobile hospital bassinet, Kurt wheeled him to the room where they would be staying for a few days.

Jane was brought in a few moments later, and she was asleep. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. I think," the transporter awkwardly answered.

The doctor hurried in a second later, "We gave her something for pain and to calm her down. It will wear off shortly, but she'll be groggy. We'll get her up and walking around soon enough, but for now, she needs to take it easy."

The doctor gave him instructions, and Kurt wondered how in the hell he was going to be able to be a good dad when it was already so complicated.

Jane felt like she was climbing through the fog. Her mind struggled to grasp for information about her surroundings and what had happened, anything to explain her confusion. For a second, she worried that she'd lost her memory again, but then realized if she remembered losing her memory before, clearly she didn't have amnesia now.

She tried to sit up and felt the pain from her surgery, groaning as she heard Kurt say, "Everything's okay, Jane. Relax."

She opened her eyes, and he was right next to her. Kurt was on a reclining chair pushed up against her bed. His shirt was open so the baby could be right against his skin, as the doctor recommended. There were blankets over the boy that seemed impossibly big compared to his size. "He's just fine," Kurt promised. "You want to hold him?"

She shook her head, absolutely enamored by the sight before her eyes. Everyone had always joked about how their child would be the toughest, most fearsome baby ever born. Instead, he was even smaller than most babies, helpless, curled up and sleeping peacefully on his father's chest. Kurt stood and moved closer carefully, as if the baby might shatter if moved too abruptly. Kurt gently eased down on the edge of the bed before leaning back next to her. "He really is fine. I promise."

"He's so small."

"Five pounds, 2 ounces," Kurt told her. "And absolutely perfect."

"What caused the blockage?" she asked. "Did I…did I do something to—"

"It's just something that happens," Kurt explained. "You didn't do anything wrong. The fact that you noticed his sluggishness…well, let's just say things turned out better because you trusted your instincts. You're already a great mom." He carefully ran his finger over his son's impossibly tiny hands, and chuckled when the baby stretched his fingers in a quick jerky movement. "You did great," he complimented, leaning over and kissing her cheek. "I mean…look at him."

Kurt looked like a giant there, holding the baby, his large hand like a blanket over his son's back. The look on the new father's face could only be described as one of happiness, confusion, and awe. He'd never looked as powerful or handsome in her eyes as he did holding their child.

Kurt tapped the baby's nose and said, "Hey sleepy head. Say hi to your mom." He turned to Jane and explained, "The doctor said to keep him right against your skin. It will keep him warmer." Kurt gently lowered her gown down in the front just far enough to give their son a place to cuddle at the top of her chest.

He lifted the curled up baby and the kid actually griped, then looked startled by the noise he'd made. As soon as the baby was on Jane, the blanket carefully draped over him, it looked like the small human sighed with relief as he fell back to sleep.

"The nurse said he'll be pretty tired. That was quite an ordeal," Kurt explained.

A smile exploded on Jane's face. "Hi, baby," she said, shaking her head with disbelief and surprise and overwhelming joy. "Oh god," she said to Kurt, "We're not ready. We were supposed to have a few more weeks—"

Kurt shook his head, "Nothing to worry about. I've got it covered. I asked Patterson to get a car seat…she's doing testing. I don't even want to know what's involved in all of that. Reade and Zapata are at the apartment finishing up a few things that I didn't get done. Sarah's going to get a few smaller outfits and supplies…she knows what to get. Everything is taken care of."

"We didn't even pick a name yet."

"I thought we settled on Geezer?" Kurt joked.

Jane looked fondly at the bundle and said, "He does kinda look like the world's cutest little old man."

"They're always wrinkly when you first get them out of the box." Kurt replied. "Anyway, he doesn't mind waiting for his name. We'll get to know him first. For tonight, all you need to do is be here…just the three of us. He's here and he's fine. And he's ours."

Jane, tentatively at first as if she might cause him harm, traced her baby's fingers, watching the innate responses and feeling the almost impossibly delicate newborn skin. She ran the soft edge of her finger over the side of the baby's face and down his cheek, watching the way his mouth fell open at her touch.

"He's smiling," Kurt said, pointing.

"Babies don't smile when they're this small," Jane corrected. "It was in the book."

"He's obviously very advanced," Kurt argued. "And happy. Because that's a smile."

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for him."

"I was mostly a bystander."

"No you weren't," she insisted, refusing to let him shrug off her gratitude. "Thank you for helping me make this amazing little guy. And for nagging me to eat. And for following me in the woods and making me wear that ridiculous double tactical vest to protect us. And calling everyone in to take care of the car seat and everything we didn't get done. And for being such an incredible, kind, sexy, protective pain in the ass."

"I'm a sexy pain in the ass?" he chuckled. "I'm glad you appreciate my special talents."

Jane shook her head, smiling and whispering when the baby opened his eyes in her direction. "I can't believe you're finally here."