Chapter 8:

                Bruce stared at the enormously pregnant woman lying on the bench, and rage boiled up in his mind, washing his vision with red. His woman was pregnant with the monster's child. She had to be. The mutant freak was standing in front of Amanda in an unmistakably protective stance; and Amanda looked like she was actually trying to hide behind him. He snarled. "Get up," he snarled at her.

                Hank positioned himself in front of Amanda, who didn't move. "She will not. Bruce, this is your doing; I understand you are unhappy with her choice of life partners; but she is free to make her own choice. This whole reverse mutagenic serum has just been a farce to get Amanda back, hasn't it?"

                Bruce gestured to three police officers standing behind him in the doorway of the cell. They entered, and prodded Hank with their nightsticks. Hank growled and stayed where he was. They poked him a little harder. He snarled and refused to move. "Look, mutie," Bruce said. "You either move and give me access to her, or I have the officers use a stun gun on you and I'll still have access to her. The difference is that when I leave, you'll be in so much pain you won't be able to help her get home, and both of you will die without an IV feed. Three of you, really, if you count the freak baby she's carrying."

                Hank considered. Amanda would need him to get her home, then hook her up to an IV feed while her body changed back again. He winced to think of the pain that would entail; but one look at Bruce's grim face convinced him that the man wouldn't hesitate. His obsession was completely out of control. Hank stepped aside, but stayed near enough to grab Bruce if he hurt Amanda. He might go to prison; but Bruce would be dead.

                Bruce stepped up to Amanda, lying still with her eyes closed on the bench. He hadn't been able to see it from where he had been standing by the door; but Amanda's bright iridescent wings drooped over the side of the bench. How had she gotten them back? They must be regenerative. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a syringe and a vial. "Get up, Amanda," he snapped.

                When she didn't respond he grabbed her arm and yanked. 'Get up!" he yelled. Her body shifted on the bench and fell off. Hank cried out in shock and horror, and the other officers were too numb with shock to prevent him from falling to his knees beside her.

                The bench was stained with her blood, in the area between her thighs. Hank yanked at her jacket, pulling it off, and touched her black skirt. It was soaked with blood. He hadn't even smelled it. As he ran a hand over her swollen abdomen, he felt her skin shudder slightly from the muscular contractions. She was going into labor. "Please!" he said desperately to the watching officers. "She is going into labor; she's only five months along; she needs to go to a hospital! Please!"

*                                                              *                                                              *

                The doctor at the hospital took Hank up to Labor and Delivery, talking as they hurried along the halls, flanked by Bruce and four police officers. "The fall from the police van ripped the stitches out of her cervix, that's where the bleeding came from," he explained. "She must have been feeling the contractions almost immediately; I found some painkillers in her system, which I assume you gave her--" Hank pulled the bottle of pills from his pocket and shoved it at the doctor. The doctor took it, nodded briefly, and shoved it into his own pocket. "She's already almost three centimeters dilated, due to the weight of the baby on her pelvic floor. I can't stop it; I'm sorry. The baby's almost eight pounds; he should have a fairly good chance at life. All we can do from here is let her deliver the child, and hope for the best. Come in here. We've put her in a delivery room and we're trying to get her to rest; she has a long hard delivery ahead, considering her size and the child's size, but I don't want to do a C-section unless it's absolutely necessary. I explained that to her, and she understands, but she said she won't rest until she sees you." He turned to the policemen and Bruce. "You all stay out here. This is a delivery room; no one's going to be escaping from it. Stay out." The officers obediently stopped by the door. Bruce made a motion to go in, but the doctor stopped him. "You stay out too. Only the father's allowed in." Bruce stopped short, stunned, and the door swung closed on his surprised face.

                Amanda held out a hand weakly to Hank as he sat down in a chair a nurse pulled up for him. "Hank," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't want the baby to come so early. Oh, God, Hank what will we do if--"

                He gripped her hand firmly. "Do not think about it, Amanda. The doctor says he is a good eight pounds already; he has a good chance at life. Do not worry about anything, beloved; everything will be all right." She looked at him with eyes full of love, and he kissed her knuckles as he held her hand.

                "We're having a boy?" her eyes were full of tears. He nodded. "I hoped for a boy," she said softly. "I know you said you wanted to wait until the baby was born, but the doctor told you, I guess." She hissed a breath through her teeth as another contraction came and went, then said, "We'll name him Henry? After you?"

                He nodded. "If that is what you want, beloved."

                "Bruce," she whispered, and her eyes filled with fear. "Hank, where is he? He's not going to--" she stopped, because he was shaking his head.

"The doctor insisted that he remain outside, beloved," he said to her, pushing a stray lock of silver hair off her forehead. "He will not hurt you here; or our child."

She nodded, and clenched her teeth as another contraction rippled through her belly. A nurse came forward. 'It's going to be a while," she said sympathetically. "Why don't you go and grab a bite, maybe call relatives or something?  We're going to give her something to help her relax. She's going to sleep for a few hours before the next stage begins." Hank stood and left the room quietly as Amanda fell asleep.

Outside, Bruce shot upright as he saw Hank come out of the room. With the police offices standing right there, he couldn't do anything but snarl at Hank. "I hope you're happy with what you did, monster!" he snapped. "When this is over she'll come crawling back to me, just like she always did whenever she tried to leave."

Hank turned on Bruce. "I am no monster, Bruce," he said quietly. "I have never done anything but love her. You were the monster. It is because of you that this is happening; her cervix was so traumatized by what you did to her that it was incapable of staying closed to carry a child. Stitches were inserted to keep it closed this long; when she fell getting out of the prison van the stitches opened. Bruce, if the child dies it will be your fault. Think about that." Hank turned away and said to the police officer, "I am going down the hall to use the telephone to call a friend of ours to inform them of the incipient birth. I shall not try to escape; my wife is in there having my child. Do you wish to accompany me anyway?"

One officer followed him down the hall.

*                                                              *                                                              *

                Hank was dozing, catching up on his sleep as Amanda slept. He woke abruptly as Amanda's body convulsed, and shot to his feet as one of the machines started beeping. His eyes followed the beeping from the machine down the wires attached to it until he saw they were attached to the flat fetal monitor discs on her swollen belly. "Doctor!" He hit the switch on the wall that would call for a doctor. He wasn't an obstetrician; he didn't know what the beeping meant, but it couldn't be good.

                Seconds later, the door burst in, and Amanda's regular obstetrician came in, followed by three nurses. "Fetal heartbeat is dangerously low. This baby's got to come out now!" He went down to the business end of the bed, and dropped the lower half of the bed as a nurse injected something into Amanda's IV. A minute later, she was alert.

                Hank felt helpless. He returned to the top of the bed, reaching for Amanda's hand as her eyes fluttered open. "Hank…what…she murmured in befuddlement, still groggy from the drugs.

                "It is time, beloved," he said, bending over her.

                Amanda groaned in relief. "Thank god. Oh, jeez, Hank, I hurt--" and she gripped his hand tightly as another contraction rippled over her swollen belly. The doctor placed her feet in the stirrups on the bed, and pressed two fingers into her body.

                "Eight centimeters. You're doing good, Amanda. Try to stay calm; we've given you something to increase the rate of your contractions. The anesthesiologist is on his way; we'll give you something for the pain in a bit." Amanda cried out as another contraction began. "At the end of this contraction I'm going to break your water. Breathe, Amanda."

                Hank began to breathe with her, partly to help her and partly to alleviate his own panic. The machine hadn't stopped beeping; it was, in fact, becoming louder. Amanda waited till the next contraction passed, then said, "Hank, that beeping. What is it?"

                The doctor said quickly, "It's just a monitor telling us it's close to your time. Now you're going to feel all that water coming out in a minute, but it won't hurt. Breathe in--" Amanda did, and suddenly felt a rush of fluids come out between her legs. The next contraction, coming a few moments later, felt like it was going to rip her apart, and she screamed in pain. The doctor said encouragingly, "You're doing good, almost time to push, come on, don't fight it…"

                Amanda was beyond listening to him. All she could focus on was the agony on her body. She screamed again, tears streaming from her eyes. The doctor said something to a nurse, and she ran out of the room.

                Hank grabbed Amanda's other hand, tears filling his own eyes as he heard her scream. He had known, on an intellectual level, that childbirth involved pain. He'd seen specials on the Discovery Channel of women giving birth. None of those documentaries helped now, as he watched his wife scream in agony as she tried to give birth to his son. Through his mind ran a list of all the things that could go wrong; and the list terrified him. I'll never touch her again, he vowed.

                Yes you will, came two voices in unison in his head. Hank froze. Charles? Jean?

                Right here, came Charles' voice. I'm waiting outside here with Jean. We'll be with you, don't worry. The doctors know what they're doing.

Hank could almost hear Jean's laughter as she said, After the baby's born Amanda will look at you and say, 'When do you want the next one'?

Hank snorted mentally. She's not stupid. Why would she do that?

Jean laughed again. Childbirth is a wonderful thing, Hank. It hurts like hell, but it's a wonderful thing. You'll feel differently when you're holding your child.

Hank couldn't respond to that, because Amanda was screaming again as her muscles contracted. And suddenly Hank could see the lump in Amanda's belly moving. The doctor saw it too. He slid two fingers into Amanda's body again, then said, "Ten centimeters! Time to push!" Nurses pulled handles out from under the bed for Amanda to hold on to as another doctor ran in.

"Oh, my," he said. He began readying all sorts of instruments, then picked up a needle as thick as a regular pencil lead. Hank's eyes bulged as he slid the needle into Amanda's back. It looked like it hurt; but Amanda didn't even blink. It injected its load into her spine, then he withdrew the needle. "The epidural," he said to Hank. "She should start feeling more comfortable now." And indeed Amanda did.

Another contraction rippled through her body, but she just moaned, she didn't scream. The anesthesiologist nodded and bustled off, as the doctor at the end of Amanda's bed said, "all right, Amanda…push!"

The next hour or so passed in a blur for Hank. He only vaguely remembered holding her hand, encouraging her to push, hearing her groan as she did. He only vaguely remembered hearing her scream out, but everything snapped back into sharp focus as a wet, bulky little bundle slid out into the doctor's hands. The baby took a deep breath, opened its tiny puckered mouth, and let out a lusty little wail as it took its first breath. The doctor clipped the cord and handed it to a nurse, who suctioned its nose and mouth, then wrapped it in a blanket as they took its vitals. "He's perfect for being four months premature," said the nurse. "Eight pounds ten ounces, everything in the right place, everything working. Doctor, do you think it's necessary to put him in the incubator?" At that, the little baby boy threw back his head and let out a lusty howl.

The doctor smiled. "Maybe in a little bit, just as a precaution," he said as he finished cleaning Amanda off and putting his instruments away. "Why don't you let the parents have some time with their new little bundle?"

Hank stared in disbelief as the little bundle was put into Amanda's arms. Little Henry, despite what his parents looked like, was a perfectly normal, healthy, pink baby. "Congratulations," Amanda whispered, tears shining in her eyes. "It's a boy. Little Henry James McCoy."

"I love you," Hank said, and leaned over to wrap Amanda and their new son in his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Welcome to the world, Henry." He kissed the little head.