AN: The final stretch. Hopefully a good ending to this story.
Months had passed since the incident with the machine. As the months flew by, it had become increasingly clear I was…carrying, as I preferred to put it.
Not that I cared. Sure, I had, at first, been uncomfortable with 9's insistence on me being extra careful, and his begging to carry me around, among other things- but it soon became routine, and I found it within myself to remember it was for the best.
Then, at about the two and a half month mark, in the first week of February, I found it impossible to sleep or stay still at all, despite the fact it was incredibly late.
I woke 9 up when I began to feel unusual pressure, along with small pangs of pain every so often, in my lower half, unable to keep my expression from showing some concern and apprehension. Though I'd read plenty about this, I had no idea how it'd work for a stitchpunk. Even though most everything had been the same so far- symptoms and growth-wise -, how could I be sure that the actual delivery would be the same? And even if it was, it was supposed to be horribly painful.
Well, I decided, as 9 watched me with sympathy, I'd just have to find out now.
It was well into the morning by the time I was finished, and could relax. However, all of a sudden, the cries of a child caught my hearing sensors, and I sat up, instinctively looking towards the sound of my child's voice.
9's expression was one of almost childlike wonder as he held a tiny, crying white bundle in his arms. I watched quietly, though 9 soon turned to look at me, and a bit of an amused smile grew on his face.
"Creator, 7... You look like you think I'm going to hurt him or something. Here, you should hold him so that he sees you first when his eyes open.. And yes, he's a boy."
Ducking my head in slight embarrassment, I reached out and lifted the child into my arms, curling him close. I gazed down at him, now deciding all the pain and work I'd gone through to create the tiny child had been worth it.
Just seeing my child's face, so much like his father's, as his tiny optics opened up, to see me, his mother, for the first time… Few things had ever given me such joy.
The little newborn's optics seemed to take a moment to focus as I watched with a smile. Leaning down to nuzzle the top of his head, I whispered quietly to him, "Shh… It's okay, momma's here. You're safe.."
His crying, which had already seemed oddly soft and quiet, faded as I spoke the words with a gentle tone. He looked me over once, and then gave a small, contented giggle as he reached up to touch my face. I took the chance to study my new child's features.
His body was made up of white canvas, and he had a tiny brown splotch in the middle of his back. On his front, a zipper secured his two sides, the tab looking to be made of some sort of fake leather. His feet were much like my own, but the copper was more like 9's, glinting in the dawn light. Tiny hands reached out as he began to feel the new world he'd been brought into, and I let him wrap a hand around one of my fingers.
I soon glanced up at 9, loving the proud expression he had. "9... What do you think we should name him? I was thinking, perhaps.. Well.. He's so tiny, and his fabric's so pure white.. Not to mention how quiet he seems to be.. Maybe.. Snow?"
9 gave a small nod, reaching out and gently stroking young Snow's forehead with a thumb. "That sounds like a wonderful name, 7. Very fitting.."
I nodded, allowing him to take Snow from me so he could bond with him too. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if his tiny size had anything to do with outside forces in the early stages of my pregnancy. Even though I had nothing to compare it to, he just seemed abnormally tiny.
I soon pushed these thoughts away, honestly not caring; my child was absolutely wonderful no matter his size, and even if he did turn out to be smaller than normal, I'd love him more than anything. I did love him more than anything.
As I watched father and son become acquainted, I began to feel drowsy, a sense of bliss and contentment taking over. Yawning, I snuggled up into the blankets and curled up, peeking an optic open as I heard 9 begin to lovingly hum, the notes interrupted every so often by gentle words of love and comfort. I saw Snow gaze up curiously at his father before laying his head back and drifting to sleep, curled up into the tiniest little ball.
Then, 9 handed him to me, and I curled him close to my chest, hoping that my heartbeat would be of even more comfort. My optics flickered closed, and I allowed myself to fall into a deep sleep, deeper than I normally slept. I felt safer than ever, enough to let my guard down.
I didn't notice as 9 slid the curtains over the nearby window, darkening the room to aid in our sleep, nor did I notice his loving, proud gaze as he watched mother and child peacefully sleep together, a warm smile on his face.
"If I lay here… If I just lay here…
Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?"
AN: Snow's design and name were mostly done by my friend, so don't credit me for that. However, we both consider him my character, so.
Hope you all enjoyed; it was a nice pass time. ^^
However, I will not be writing anything else with Snow. There's several reasons why, but it's pretty decided that I won't be.
I mean, it's still possible, but quite unlikely. So please don't ask.
