Final chapter! Reviews much appreciated. Enjoy!
There was a blinding, white light. Dwayne's eyes squinted to try and adjust to the intensity. Unsure exactly where he was. But it rang a certain, familiar note with him. The air still, surrounded by a thick cloud-like haze. He hears a soft voice in the distance, it gradually growing nearer. Sutter's unnerving face coming into view.
"Where am I?! Where's my daughter?!"
He panicked. Hands frantically scouring his body. Only now realizing it had gone back to its pre-pregnancy form. This had only exacerbated his fears. He'd already lost his father, he was damned if he was to lose his daughter as well.
"Where is she?!"
He demanded. Feeling a painful lump rise in his throat, as the hot tears returned once more. Hanging his head, at a loss of what exactly to do next. Sutter moves in closer, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. Dwayne could feel his temperature plummet. Suddenly, her blue eyes locked into his. That daunting smile plastered across her face.
"Dwayne.."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Present: ICU~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dwayne, can you hear us?"
An unfamiliar male voice broke through as he slowly began to come back into a state resembling consciousness. His eyes slowly flicker open to blurrily catch sight of all the concerned faces surrounding him.
"You're back!"
Rita beamed. Her eyes welling with tears, as she swiftly, but gingerly, cupped his face and kissing his cheek. Through her tears, Laurel's face broke into an unbridled grin. Rushing up from her chair and throwing her arms over her father. At least, best she could anyway. His team, consisting of just Sebastian and Gregorio felt the weight of the world had lifted. Still, there was that nagging fear from his second brush with death.
"Where's my baby? Is she okay?"
He finally spoke. Feeling his voice breaking as his mind swarmed with all the possible scenarios. Neither were pleasant. Rita patted his hand to try and ease his fears.
"She's in neonatal, Dwayne. It's okay. They had to perform an emergency cesarean. Very tiny (softly chuckles) only 2.8 lbs. They want to keep her for at least two months until she's well enough to go home"
He could feel the painful lump in his throat return. He had blamed himself for his daughter's life-threatening early delivery. Had he just taken care of Parsons from the very beginning. His father would still be alive and his daughter be brought to full term. Unable to suppress his emotions any longer, he softly begins to weep. His breath almost labored sounding.
"Sweetheart, it's going to be okay. She'll pull through"
Rita reassured her physically and mentally exhausted lover. Laurel's heart breaking to see her father in such a state. Sebastian attempted to lighten the atmosphere in hopes of pulling his superior out of this guilt riddled Hell.
"Believe me, Pride. She's going to be just fine. After all, she has the most badass dad in the Big Easy"
The older man couldn't help but break into a small smile at the sentiment. Even letting out a soft chuckle. He wouldn't know what to do if it wasn't for the love and support of his family and colleagues. Despite all this, however. He still felt as though something was off. An unexplainable ominous cloud hanging over him.
"What's she look like?"
He inquired, his voice now sounding weak. Gregorio smiled, responding in an almost fainted tone.
"Most beautiful baby in New Orleans General"
He hears Rita and Laurel chuckle warmly. Rita's hand, once more, overlapping his lovingly.
"Has her daddy's eyes. Nose. But looks like mommy won in the lips and hair department. Even if it is just peach fuzz"
She jests warm-heartedly, her tender smile still present. Then, without warning, the room is filled with the shrill, excessive beeping of his heart monitor. It seemed his angel of death wasn't done yet. Everyone thrown into a panic once again. Particles of bright light flashing before his eyes.
It becoming obvious there were some complications following his emergency surgery. He had already coded once during labor and delivery due to a ruptured placenta. It seemed Sutter was one determined bitch.
The rupture paving the way to weaken an area of his abdominal cavity. Internal bleeding was inevitable. Voices becoming hazed and distant. Before long, he was, once again, trapped in a purgatory nightmare.
Sutter emerges from the glaring white mist. Approaching Pride with that same unnerving expression.
"Well, well, looks like they'll be putting you in a medically induced coma..again"
This couldn't be happening. Not again, he felt as though the universe was serving him the ultimate punishment. Sadly, he hadn't the faintest notion as to what it could be. She chuckles, softly and almost sinisterly. Simultaneously brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"This can't be! How long?!"
His panic-stricken words came tumbling out. This cat and mouse game with death had to stop. He couldn't leave his family, his friends. Most importantly, his fragile newborn daughter. Who needed him more than anything.
"Oooh.. around 4 months. Give or take"
She finally responds in an eerie singsong type manner. As if the entire heart wrenching, mentally draining experience was one big joke. He sighs somberly, running a rough hand over his face in absolute nullity. He could feel himself breaking down once again, before Sutter offers some words of encouragement.
"Don't look so glum, Dwayne. It's decided they'll be keeping your daughter for the same amount of time"
~4 Months later~
Chris, now very heavily pregnant. Was at home with Clara, he had been monitoring his body's signs for the past few days. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, overlooking a kingdom compromised of alphabet building blocks. It happened. He let's out a sudden hiss of pain as a wooden block fell from his grasp onto the carpet. His daughter peering up suddenly, sensing immediately something was wrong.
"Daddy? You hurt?"
She inquired sweetly. Crawling towards him and nuzzling against his arm. Through the pain he manages a small smile, lightly brushing the adorable, black ringlets from her eyes.
"Daddy's fine, sweetheart. I've gotta make 'ah call, 'k? Sit tight"
He eases himself off the floor. Trying his best to get to his swollen, aching feet. Taking short, quick breaths in hopes of calming his body, and the baby. He shuffles to the kitchen. The sharp pain of a contraction causing him to blindly reach out and brace the edge of the marbled counter.
He finds his cell and phones Hannah immediately. "Please pick up" he pleads quietly under his breath. Suddenly, he hears a light click sound, followed by her voice.
"Chris?"
Her tone was a mix of concern and perplexity. He inhales sharply before attempting to speak any further.
"The baby. She's comin', hurry please"
He knew damn well there was no time for a hospital. Although couldn't help but find a small bit of humor in the fact each of his daughters places of birth wasn't in the comfort of the paternity ward. Hannah's rapid fire response resembled something of "be there soon!". But in all honesty, he couldn't tell.
About ten minutes had past before she flew through the main door. Her mind in complete chaos. Mixed with fear, anticipation, and a fair bit of cloudiness. Clara, finally wandering beyond her room. Was curious as to what all the commotion was about.
"Daddy. Wha's wong?"
Her tone almost bordering on tearful as she stood in the doorway. Hannah aided Chris to the towel lined floor of the living area. Breaking concentration on him, if only for a minute, to tend to the young girl.
"Daddy's going to be fine, sweetie.. (she kneeled to get to the toddler's level and caresses her tiny face) you're going to be a big sister soon!"
Both Chris and Hannah had attempted in preparing Clara for this moment. Fortunately, the little girl was a bit older now. Therefore, had a slightly better grasp of what was going on. Her beautiful eyes lit up.
"Baby?!"
She inquired somewhat jubilantly. Hannah laughs softly.
"Yes, baby girl. Daddy's having a baby"
She then hears a pained moan from the living area. Quickly hugging the little girl lightly before focusing back on Chris.
"You stay right there, okay?"
Clara nods, her eyes shifting out towards where her father lie. Hannah rushes over, a small pile of medical supplies off towards the side. Beads of sweat dripping down the agent's forehead as he gritted through another contraction.
"Almost there, Chris"
Hannah stated. Her emotions building. She guides the baby gently. The poor, exhausted man bore down through another contraction. This time, it finally paying off. A high pitched wail filled the air of the small bungalow. Hannah's eyes tearing with overwhelming joy of bringing her own daughter into the world.
It was a short time later, the quartet find themselves at New Orleans General. Pride now fully recovered, and his daughter getting the all clear to be released later that day. Laurel and Rita broke away momentarily for a coffee in the cafeteria of the 3rd floor.
The newest member of the Pride family, laid contently on her father's chest. Donning a pink polka-dotted onesie. She was given a special, bottled formula in place of nursing. The staff, Pride included, figured his body had been through enough as it were.
He softly hums the lyrics to Je t'aimerai toujours. This seemed most effective at lulling her to sleep. Whether it was after a feeding or not. Lightly stroking her chestnut colored hair. No longer merely just peach fuzz.
He hears a slight noise in the hall outside his room. An orderly opens it to reveal Chris, sitting in a wheelchair. A yellow knit bundle in his arms. The orderly smiles and nods before departing down the hall.
"Well look who it is"
Dwayne grins. This action triggering his daughter to softly start fussing. He gently shushes the infant as Chris approaches their bedside. His own daughter sleeping soundly. Hannah watching Clara in his room.
"I'm jus' gonna convince the hospital 'tah make this 'yer home address from 'ere on out"
He jests with a crooked smile and hearty laugh. Pride chuckles deeply, once again disturbing his daughter's slumber.
"And who might this little lady be?"
Dwayne asks upon noticing the tiny pink face poking out from the cable knitted coccoon. Chris peers down and smiles lovingly as his daughter's deep brown eyes slowly open. Observing everything surrounding her.
"Meet Layla May LaSalle. Her momma 'n I compromised. I got first name this time. She got middle"
He chuckles softly, as baby Layla begins to squirm. "That's beautiful" Pride stated quietly, careful as to not disturb his daughter further. Chris' eyes travel towards the sleeping baby on his boss's chest.
"I don't think we've been formally introduced"
He jokes once more. Pride chuckles softly as the creases at the corners of his eyes deepened, as they usually did. Appearing as though he were about to break into tears, he finally responds.
"Cassandra Eleanor Pride.. Eleanor was Rita's mother. 'An Cassandra for her grandpa Cassius"