THIRTY-FIVE: What Friends are For
While Elizabeth dozed, Beckett got to work, first using a rag and warm water from the bucket to scrub the baby down well, so that all of the horrible stuff was off of it – though it's skin still seemed blotchy and very pink. It's head seemed to be a rather strange shape... and it looked slightly cross-eyed, with puffy eyelids. The hands and feet seemed especially blue, due to lack of circulation; not that Beckett knew this.
And the baby was... it was tiny. One of Beckett's hands alone was enough to cover it's entire chest. The baby had stopped it's throaty cry now, and seemed rather contented. Beckett noticed rather long fingernails on the baby... and the baby's hands were clenched, and wouldn't uncurl.
Once it was cleaned and wrapped in a blanket, Beckett finally allowed himself to look at the baby – not as a thing, not as an 'it', but as a baby. A small, defenceless baby; a baby that would grow into a real person and go out into the world with feelings and opinions and make a difference to the lives of so many people... Beckett blinked, trying to put a stop to the tide of emotions and fanciful thoughts that were coasting through him.
It's not... it's not like it was his baby or anything...
Ha. Those were the days.
"It's good to have another man on the island," Beckett said to the baby. In reply, William James Weatherby Turner III did it's first ever dump in Beckett's arms. "Thanks. Thanks a lot. That's... that's just lovely." Beckett sighed.
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Elizabeth woke to faint murmurings, and opened her eyes, rubbing her head, blinking a couple of times. She noticed Beckett sitting cross-legged on the armchair that he had pretty much claimed as his own, holding her little baby in his arms, talking to him softly. She couldn't hear much of what he was saying.
"Cutler?" Elizabeth said sleepily, rubbing one of her eyes. She blinked, and noticed how she was all tucked up in bed, with a cool wet rag over her forehead and her shoes off. She paled, realizing how Beckett must have seen her... seen her... well.
"Good morning, Elizabeth," Beckett said softly, rubbing the baby's cheek with one finger, "I think this one's going to be a tough guy. Look at these little muscles." Beckett squeezed the baby's arm... gently. The baby smacked his lips in response, seeming happy enough. Elizabeth got out of bed and walked to the armchair, reaching for the baby. Wordlessly, Beckett handed newborn infant over.
"William," She sighed lovingly, kissing the baby's forehead.
"I still think you should name him Cutter..." Beckett said, examining a fingernail. Elizabeth laughed exhaustedly, and shook her head at him. "And... how did you... know it was going to be a boy?"
"I wanted a boy. Really, really wanted a boy." She smiled and cradled the baby, looking down into his blue eyes.
"Hmm. Luck, then." Beckett said, leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes.
"Beckett... I..." She looked up at him, and when Beckett opened his eyes, he saw a kindness – an affection in her eyes, stronger then he had seen directed at him before. As if she saw him as a true friend. "Thank you. Thank you so much for helping me give birth, for helping me through all of it, and then... cleaning the baby up afterwards, for... cleaning me up afterwards..." She blushed at the end.
"Don't mention it," Beckett said serenely, "Truly. Don't mention it. Ever. Again. I do not want to be reminded." Elizabeth beamed at him, and then sat down on her bed, rocking the tiny baby in her arms. She kissed the top of William's head, stroking his fine, soft dark hair.
She loved him. She barely knew him, but she loved him – that she knew. This tiny little person, so vulnerable and so exquisite, so very beautiful. The most beautiful person in the world. She thought she had loved Will – Will II, her husband Will – but this was different. The love she had for her baby was so strong, so absolute, that nothing could ever stop it.
She loved this baby so much it scared her. She would do anything for him. She would die – she would kill. She would commit terrible sins for her child. All sense of right and wrong was gone now; 'right' was whatever her baby needed, 'wrong' was anything that stood between her and her baby. That was it. New rules.
Nothing could have prepared her for the emotions crashing through her right now. It was chaotic – like every single emotion she had ever felt and more, storming out. She had so much to learn; so much to discover. She felt exhilarated, excited, elated – but at the same time, so afraid. Afraid that she would do it wrong. Afraid that this tiny life would be snatched away from her.
No. She couldn't let that happen. Not ever.
"I think Wiiilliaam is hungry," Beckett said, and Elizabeth came out of her thoughts, realizing that she had been lost in her baby's eyes – that Beckett had stood up and come around to her side, their shoulders brushing, and was peering at the baby. What s strange mix of emotions she could see in Beckett's eyes now...
An odd look that she couldn't quite figure out flickered over his face as she pulled the baby close to her, before his face went back to it's usual expressionless state. Vaguely, Elizabeth wondered what was happening in his head.
Elizabeth sat back down on the bed, leaning back against the pillows, as William began grizzling; as if understanding what Beckett had said, and agreeing whole-heartedly with him. Elizabeth laughed and touched Will's nose – and then looked up at Beckett, again, catching that expression on his face.
"Bye, Beckett," She said, hinting heavily. She wanted to be alone with William.
"Oh... uh... bye," Beckett got to his feet hastily, and after one last look at the little baby, he walked to the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the cold, crisp winter morning – leaving behind the warm, homely atmosphere that he somehow wished he could stay in. But that was personal – only for Elizabeth and William. It was family.
He had no place in it.
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It wasn't that... he was jealous. It couldn't be. Because he wasn't. Of what? A tiny little bag of poop? As if. Huh. As he strode across the hard ground, his breath showing in front of him, his fingers white in the cold, he shook his head, sighing. He looked at his hands, there was still some blood on his sleeves, and under his nails.
He'd... he'd birthed that baby. William. He'd been the one to bring it into the world, the one who had cleaned it and changed it and talked to it while Elizabeth dropped into feverish sleep. Then he had done Elizabeth too – cleaning her and changing the sheets on the bed and scrubbing the floor while he was at it. Then he'd washed her down, tucked her in, plumped up the pillows as she lay, practically unconscious. He'd worked himself pretty hard – by his standards, anyway.
And then for a couple of blissful hours he had just talked to William, who seemed to listen so intently – his large, marble-like eyes latched onto his, seeming to be paying attention raptly. And... he... well... damn it, he'd near enough fallen in love with the bloody thing! And all of this had made him realize something...
Elizabeth and him... they were... they were friends. In fact, they were very good friends; close friends. She was the closest friend he'd ever had, which was just ridiculous. At one point, she'd held a revolver to his throat, on the day after he had ruined her wedding day by arresting her. That was not how a usual friendship went.
And William. Little William Junior. The tiny, blue-eyed baby who had suddenly captured him, captured his heart – out of nowhere. He had been certain that he wouldn't even like the baby... but he had been wrong. It was like William was his own son – and he'd never forget the feeling of William gripping his thumb with one hand; gripping tightly. The baby's entire palm had been about the same width as his thumb. No, he would never forget.
He folded his arms and looked out at the ocean. His expression was as unfathomable as ever.
NB: Oh dear. The birth has been described as 'sick' by a reviewer... uhm, sorry. I guess I'll up the rating to T for that one. I didn't go into terrible detail about it... only three chapters of it. Hmmm. Well, that's life, grasshoppers--literally. That is life. The rest of the reviews seemed to be pretty positive, so thanks! I wasn't too sure about the birth scene. ;)
Next update contains emotions up, emotions down, emotions round and round... Hideous hormonal headlock, hung-up Elizabeth hates horrible harshness! (This was going to be too hard for her – too much to bear... what would she do?)