A/N: Now that we're getting pretty close to the end of this story, I've noticed a few glaring plot holes I'd like to go back and fix. So once the final few chapters are up, I'll be editing this story, adding some new content, fixing up various typos that have managed to elude me and then posting the whole thing on Ao3. So if you spot anything incongruous in these next few chapters, it probably relates to something I'm intending to write in during this editing process. I'll be leaving this version on this site exactly the way it is - mistakes and all, partly out of fondness and partly out of laziness. That said, if anyone really hates reading on Ao3, send me a message and you'll probably be able to convince me to repost it on here too. I definitely owe you guys that for being so amazing and so faithful to this story. Even though I don't know most of you, I have a great deal of affection for you all and I'm so lucky to have you guys along for the ride!

For all that I've been really looking forward to writing this chapter since I started writing this story, it was a really hard one to write. Hope you enjoy it and it was worth the wait!

Chapter 34 - 2nd July - 33 weeks, 6 days

With an exasperated huff of air, Shane admitted defeat. There was no way he was going to get any proper sleep tonight. The baby had woken him just after midnight with a particularly vicious to the kidneys that had sent a rolling wave of pain down his already strained back. Since then, she had been extra restless, shifting beneath his skin. He had tossed and turned, trying to find a position they were both comfortable in but nothing, it seemed, was going to stop her squirming tonight. He had shut his eyes and ignored her for as long as he could - resting but just short of proper sleep in that he was still acutely aware of what was going on around and more importantly, inside of him - but even that hadn't lasted long. The clock was blinking back at him, telling him it was still the early hours of the morning when he finally gave up and slipped out of the sheets.

He would've liked to have flung them aside, venting some of his frustration in the small ways that were still left to him but he didn't want to wake Knight, still sleeping soundly beside him.
There was no point in both of them being sleep deprived.

Instead, he padded down the hallway as softly as he could and slipped into Beth's bedroom. He really didn't want to wake her either but the rocking chair tucked in the corner beckoned to him. Getting down into the chair sent another flash of pain ratcheting through his body but it was over as soon as the chair took his weight. The odd angle it was tilted back at lifted the pressure off his spine just enough and it quickly settled into a gentle rocking rhythm that even seemed to soothe the twitchy baby.

Shane had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was up with her today.

'This isn't your day,' he reminded her, his body relaxed in the chair and both hands spread across the swell of his stomach. He didn't dare say it aloud. It was a miracle he'd gotten this far without waking either daughter or husband. Instead, he just hoped that whatever link there was between him and the baby inside, it was enough to get the message through if he thought loudly enough. 'It'll be your turn soon enough and then you can have all the attention you want and probably more but today is your sister's day. It'd be nice if you'd settle down enough for me to enjoy it.'

Then, letting his head fall back against the wooden frame with Knight's blanket to cushion it, he tried to take his own advice.
It wouldn't be long now so he might as well try to enjoy every roll and kick whilst it lasted.

Knight woke with the dawn only a few hours later and found himself alone in the bed. A few weeks ago, it would have worried him but now, at this stage, he knew there were only a few things that could properly ease some of the constant drain the pregnancy was having on Schofield.
And seeing as he couldn't hear the shower running, he headed straight for Beth's nursery.

He couldn't help the small sound of fondness that slipped past his lips.
They were both asleep.

Beth was lying spreadeagled across the cot with her hands clasped in tiny fists beside her head, mumbling baby nonsense as her eyelids flickered in dreams. As for Shane, he looked far from comfortable but he was asleep and God (and Knight) knows he wasn't getting enough of it lately.

With every bit of stealth he could muster, he snuck across the room and brushed the hair from Beth's forehead gently, dropping a quick kiss on her pale skin. She stirred under the touch but didn't wake. The linen cupboard was just across the hall from her bedroom so he grabbed a blanket as well - it may have been summer but the morning still had a cold bite to it and Shane's hands were like ice - and careful as he could, spread it over Schofield's sleeping form.

In the early morning light, Aloysius thought he was much too pale and it only served to bring out the dark bags that were forming beneath his eyes. A furrow creased Knight's brow and before he realised what he was doing, he'd tucked the blanket a little tighter around the sleeping marine.
Shane didn't even stir.

He could've watched them sleeping peacefully for hours but someone was knocking at the door and there was plenty to be getting on with today.
He cupped Schofield's cold cheek, the touch tentative and fleeting, and left them there to sleep a little longer.

By some miracle Shane must have slipped back into sleep because the next thing that woke him was the sunlight peeping in under Beth's blinds - right at eye level because of course - and Beth herself, standing up in her crib, reaching out towards him and stamping her bootied feet in delight.

"Good morning to you too," Shane said, stretching the last vestiges of sleep away. Those few hours made all the difference, he felt refreshed and alert like he hadn't for some time. Although, the awkward angle he had slept in left him stiff and if possible, more sore than before; but nothing was going to stop him surging to his feet this morning and sweeping Beth up into a back-breaking (on his part) hug. The way she beamed at him, broad and gap-toothed, lifted some of the constant fatigue off his shoulders. He kissed her nose and she giggled, twisting her hands into the soft fabric of his pyjama top. Leaning in close so he could look at her bright blue eyes, so like his own, he said, "Happy birthday."

Beth of course, had no idea of the significance of the day - to her, it was one like any other - but Schofield remembered it in vivid detail. In particular, a vicious slice of recollected pain shot through him and he winced at the memory. Beth, completely unawares, looked straight over his shoulder and babbled sing-song nonsense to herself.
"Come on," Shane said, smoothing the hair at the back of her head, "Let's go find your daddy."

The first place he took her was their bedroom, looking for Knight, but the only figure in the bed was Louis, content and snoring. He could hear voices coming from the living room though.

Since they'd moved in, Michael and Mae Schofield had been there nearly every day, scrubbing counters and organising the crockery until the house was in tip-top condition, and today was no exception.
Now, the whole house was sparkling in preparation for Beth's big day.

"Ooh, my dear," Mae squealed in what Shane considered to be an unnecessarily high pitch. She'd wake Louis in a moment. "Happy birthday!"

Her arms outstretched, she seized Shane by the ears and dragged him down for a kiss, her eyes flickering from her grandson to great-granddaughter until they filled with joyful tears and she swatted the pair of them away with a tea towel.

Sitting at the dining table surrounded by balloons of all colours, Michael Schofield boomed, "Where's my favourite great-granddaughter?"

Shane made to cross the room to hand her over to his grandfather but Knight was at his side in an instant. Plucking Beth out of Schofield's arms, Knight lifted her high into the air and spun around until she shrieked with glee. Bringing her down and pressing half a dozen rapid kisses to her rosy cheek, he deposited her in Michael Schofield's lap. He'd only saved Shane half a dozen steps but every little bit counted. He looked better already, Knight thought, though far from good. He was still wan and the bags under his eyes hadn't lifted but his eyes were brighter at least.

It didn't escape Knight's notice though, that once his arms were empty of toddler, Shane kept rubbing absentmindedly at the side of his stomach as though it was bothering him.

"Here," he said, putting a plate at the chair closest to Schofield and indicating he should sit down. "Mae made us all breakfast."

She sure had. The plate Knight sat before him was piled high with scrambled eggs and sausages and toast she'd gone and cut into little fingers and no bacon in sight. She'd even remembered that detail. And if the leftovers on the other plates that still littered the table were anything to go by, she hadn't just gone into overkill with his serve - though he strongly suspected his was still the biggest.
She did so love to feed people.

"Eat!"
The order came from both Mae and Aloysius simultaneously and Schofield tucked in with a half-smile. Whilst Mae wandered back off to the kitchen in search of something, Knight watched him eat with an eagle eye and was pleased to see Schofield just about inhale half of his eggs in one mouthful. His appetite was back in full swing.

Shane caught Knight's eye upon him and looked up.
"What?" he said around a mouthful.

"Nothing," Knight replied quickly, "Nothing at all."

Schofield had the good graces to at least look a little abashed when he realised the dent he'd made in the not inconsiderable pile of food already.
"Sorry," he said, but he was smiling.

Knight gave a half shake of his head, his eyes never leaving Schofield's own.
"Don't be," he said.

It was good to see him eating heartily again.

Michael Schofield watched the exchange, bouncing Beth on his lap with one hand and blowing balloons up with the other, and let out a snort.

Apart from Beth's cooing and the squeaks the balloons made as they were filled, there was silence between the three men until Mae came back, brandishing a small but sharp pair of scissors.

"Now dear, are you sure about this?" She said, waving the scissors about. "I mean, I used to cut your hair all the time but that was a long time ago. Once it's done, I can't undo it and I really won't mind if you decide to take her to a professional."

"I would love to be able to take Beth to get her first haircut, Nana," he said, a little too sharp, "But I can't. I can't even buy the groceries or walk the damn dog anymore. So you'll have to do."

Knight watched as he threw his fork down in disgust. As he reached the end and the limits of his endurance, Schofield's normally controlled temper was fraying. Being cooped up in the house all day wasn't helping either. He waited for Mae to retaliate or Michael to smack him up the head - hell, he was contemplating doing it himself - but instead they were all of them watching and waiting to see how Schofield would react. They watched as something tightened in his face and then, with a few steady breaths, he let it go.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up but not meeting his grandmother's eye, "that was uncalled for. Thank you for doing this. I'm sure you'll do a great job."

Mae, hands on her stout hips, looked at him through pursed lips.
"Apology accepted," she said after a long moment, "but don't you speak to me like that again, young man."

"It won't happen again," Shane said seriously, catching her hand as she walked past to collect Beth. She squeezed back tightly and with a little 'harrumph,' she knew he was genuinely sorry and he knew she had already forgiven him.

Schofield ducked his head and made himself busy emptying his plate whilst Mae spread some newspaper to catch the falling hair. Beth had sat quietly on her great-grandfather's lap right up until Mae made the first snip and a single dark lock fell to the ground in front of her eyes. Beth watched it tumble away like a will-o-wisp caught on the wind, eyes wide with shocked horror before turning her gaze upon her 'attacker,' with a picture-perfect expression of betrayal. For a deep breath there was silence until Beth screwed her eyes up and began to wail.

Which wouldn't have been so much trouble, except that she shook her head vigorously and tried to swipe the scissors away with her bare hands as well.

"Dear, do you mind?" Mae said, gesturing at Knight but he was already on his feet and offering to help. In the end it took the three of them - Michael Schofield to hold her still, Knight to distract her and Nana Mae to actually cut her hair. Watching them, Shane was struck by how much of a chameleon Knight was. He looked as much at ease behind a shotgun as he did playing peek-a-boo on the living room floor and for an international bounty hunter, he sure had well ingratiated himself with Shane's grandparents. He listened attentively to Mae's constant chatter - or at least appeared to - and made all the right appreciative noises when called upon for an opinion; He tickled Beth's toes and sung silly songs from behind the face of her favourite teddy bear until she forgot all about the scissors dancing precisely around her head; and he shared a private smile at Michael Schofield's long-suffering look whenever Mae's back was turned.

But the Black Knight was always there, just beneath the surface, coiled and waiting to spring. Shane could see it as he knelt on the ground before Beth. Even at ease, there was power and danger and beauty in every line of muscle.

He had also left his breakfast plate unattended.
And not quite finished.

In what he hoped was a covert manoeuvre, Schofield slid his own empty plate across the table to Knight's vacated spot and swapped it for the half-full one.

Soon enough, the newspaper was covered with little tufts of dark hair and Beth was shaking her head experimentally this time, as if wondering where all the weight had gone - and Shane thought he had got away with the breakfast pilfer until he looked up and found Knight watching him with eyebrows quirked and lips curling.

Shane swallowed his mouthful of stolen egg.
"We're you done with that?" he asked, putting on a show of innocence.

Knight snorted a laugh, "Go for it."

In the meantime, Mae had dug up a dustpan and broom and was busy removing all evidence of the haircut save one small dark curl she picked up specially and dropped in a little clear jar.

"It's tradition to keep a child's first lock of hair," she said when they all looked up at her quizzically. "I've got one from your mother's first haircut and one from yours too in a cupboard at home somewhere and if you're not going to keep one for Beth, then I will."

She made to pass it to Schofield but he didn't take it.
He was looking down instead and clutching the edge of the table so hard she thought he'd probably leave a mark.

"You okay?" Knight asked, swooping in. With one hand, he took the little jar off Mae and the other found itself on Schofield's back.

"Yeah, fine," Schofield said shortly, seemingly coming back to them at the brief touch. He stood up abruptly, pushing the chair away with a rough scrape. "Excuse me."

Heading straight for the bathroom, he got the door hastily shut behind him and the water in the shower running before he let his last vestige of control go, sinking to the ground with a mostly supressed gasp of pain. Struggling out of his clothes, he saw it.
A small dark bruise, barely bigger than a penny, had formed at the base of his swollen stomach, confirming his suspicions.

"Not today," he said firmly, though not entirely sure if he was talking to the bump or to himself. He only had to hang on for a few more hours, Schofield reminded himself as he stepped into the shower. Letting the water cascade over his face and down his back, he hoped it might ease some of the ache in his tight muscles. It wasn't like the pains were coming regularly - though they were getting more frequent, a small corner of his mind added - he just had to get through the day. He had fought on after bullet wounds and with broken bones, he could do this too.

Just a few more hours, he kept repeating in his head like a mantra.
Just a few more hours.

The water worked for a while, hot rivulets running down his body and sinking in where it hurt the most but the pain kept rising, threatening to swallow him whole; so to combat it, he kept turning the temperature up and up as well until it left red tracks and the spray stung where it landed. Even the water pressure felt like little hammers bashing away at his skin and he had to turn it off, wincing. If the water felt like hammers though, then his clothes were like sandpaper, scraping away at the oversensitive skin of his abdomen and chest.

Just a few more hours.

If he could just make it outside and hopefully to a seat before the next wave hit, he'd be fine.
Turned out he was overly optimistic.

He'd thought he had twenty minutes, give or take a few, in between each spike of jolt of pain but this one snuck up on him whilst he was still making his way down the hall. Like a rope coiled around his torso, the pain seemed to rise up and swallow him, tightening his chest and stealing his breath. Shane allowed himself a full minute braced against the wall, alone in the quiet corridor, until he'd fought his body back under control with a few deep, steady breaths. Then, pushing the backdoor open, he found himself in the middle of a party.

Mask firmly in place, he swung himself into the nearest deckchair beside Mother. For once, his reputation as lacking in small-talk abilities came in handy when she passed him a soft drink but didn't say anything, leaving him free to nod his thanks and turn his attention on the people milling in the backyard.

It was exactly the way he'd pictured it.

Ralph was ogling the shiny new barbeque - Knight insisted on only the best - whilst Mother shouted cooking tips at him from across the yard. Rufus and Michael Schofield had commandeered a shady corner of the porch and were no doubt swapping war stories and pilot talk. In the shade of the tallest tree, Knight himself was chatting with Alex Summers, the pair of them laughing raucously as Louis sped back and forth between their feet; whilst Juliet Riley was engaged with Jean Grey - for which Shane was grateful. He could keep up the deception in front of almost anyone but Jean would see through it in a moment. Buck hung around the edges of the little group, keeping an eye on the kids playing in the grass and occasionally shooting Schofield an exaggerated sigh accompanied by a roll of the eyes whenever one of them tried to stuff a bug up their noses.

Shane had to take care not to choke on his lemonade every time.

As Buck dashed off to rescue another poor unsuspecting insect, Schofield was glad his grandfather had talked them into a small party - just closest friends and family. It wasn't like Beth was going to remember it anyway, he had reasoned, the whole thing was mostly for Shane and Aloysius' benefit. Now they were here, it felt right. His closest friends, Buck and Mother especially, had developed an instinctive sense for when he needed to be left alone. Between the three of them, they had developed a quiet camaraderie that was effortless.
Shane was glad for that because today of all days, he just didn't have any extra energy to expend.

The sun, at the high point of the day, was nearing uncomfortably warm but the heat of it beating down on his back lifted some of the ache out of his strained muscles so he ignored the way his shirt clung uncomfortably under the arms and at the base of his spine.
It was so tempting to close his eyes.
Just for a few minutes.

How long he dozed for, he couldn't tell but he was dragged back with a sharp jolt and a hiss of pain that didn't escape Mother's notice.

Schofield caught her side-eyeing him, the gears in her brain clicking over, and made an effort to visibly relax his grip on the arms of the deckchair.
His knuckles were white.

Mae fortunately chose that moment to make an entrance with a large cake - far larger than the small group warranted, Schofield thought privately but he wasn't going to be the one to tell her that - in the shape of a number one, colourfully bedecked with hundreds and thousands and with a single burning candle.

She winked at him as she passed and kindly set the cake down on the little folding table closest to where he was seated.
Internally, Schofield groaned - his nana was worse than any telepath.

As the strains of the song filled the yard and all eyes turned upon her, Beth turned a wary eye on the group and hid herself behind Knight's knee, suddenly shy. It didn't last long though. The cake didn't seem to interest her but the flickering flame certainly did. With curiosity and the reflection of the candle in her eyes, she reached straight from the flames and Knight had to pull her back with a yell.

"Oh good god, not another pyromaniac," Buck Riley exclaimed with a wry smile. "I only hope she turns out to be a right menace, destroying stuff all the time so both of you finally get a sense of what it's like to have to work with you."

They both ignored him.

A few little - or not so little - explosions and you get a reputation for life.

"You gotta blow on it baby girl," Knight said, crouching down to his haunches and holding Beth firmly on his knee. He demonstrated, blowing gently so the flame flickered but wasn't extinguished. Beth's eyes widened and she clapped her hands delightedly as if to say, 'do it again!' Knight blew again, hoping she'd catch on before the candle burned itself out.

She blew a raspberry instead.

Little John Riley, nearly two and clearly far more knowledgeable about proper birthday procedure, made a dash forward, eager to help but Juliet caught him before he could take more than a few steps.

"It's not your birthday," She reminded him.

He looked up at her questioningly.
"Not my birthday?"

"Not your birthday," She repeated, shaking her head.

He looked crestfallen. Beth meanwhile - who still had no clue what was going on but was going to make the most of the attention anyway - made a face at him that could only be described as triumphant.

Chuckling, Knight kissed her temple.
"Make a wish," he said over Beth's head, his eyes never leaving Schofield's own.

Shane wished for a few more easy hours to enjoy this day with his family.
Knight blew out the candle.
And everyone assembled cheered with them.

As it snuffed out, Beth let out a squawk of outrage as though she'd had her favourite toy taken away from her. She sat sullenly, looking betrayed until a slice of cake was placed in her hand and she discovered the icing in particular was almost as much fun to eat as it was to smear all over her face.

"Want some?"

It was Jean, one slice of cake in hand and another outstretched towards him.

Schofield couldn't bring himself to eat it. His earlier hunger had vanished entirely and been replaced with a sickening rolling sensation that lurched forward with every contraction - yes, contraction. He'd given in and admitted to himself he knew full well that's what they were - and just the proximity of the cake was enough to turn his stomach. He offered Jean a weak grin he knew probably came out more like a grimace and waved the food away with a mumbled, "No thanks."

Jean didn't take the clue, or she did and ignored it.
She did however, take the chair next to him.

"I can't believe how big Beth's getting," she pressed on.

At the sound of her name, Beth's head immediately poked up from behind the table like a damn prairie dog and wandered over to investigate.

"Well hello there Bethany," Jean said, leaning down to be at Beth's height. "You won't remember me but I remember you very well. Last time we met, you were only a tiny little baby."

Beth surveyed the red-headed mutant for a long moment before evidently deciding she was trustworthy and climbing up onto Jean's lap, forcing Shane to lean forward with a napkin to wipe the worst of the cake remains off her hands before she could smear them on Jean's sharp skirt. The movement compressed his stomach, sending ripples of pain through it in anticipation of more to come. He could feel the pain building at the base of his spine.

"A whole year ago today," Jean said with a broad smile that softened her beautiful but angular features, "We met for the first time an entire year ago and look how far you've come since then."

Shane wasn't sure if she was talking to Beth or him. He could only concentrate on the pain levels as they ratcheted up.

"Is she talking yet?"

So she was talking to him then.
And therefore he had to answer.

His brain took a moment to process when all it wanted to do was scream.
"Not yet," he said evenly, "Lots of sounds all strung together but they don't make sense yet. She does repeat stuff if you talk to her. Is that normal?" Even through the haze of pain, he had to check.

"Quite normal." She reassured him.

"She walked early," Mother cut in, having been suspiciously silent for a while now. Schofield could feel her eyes on him though. She was watching, and probably plotting. "Ain't that enough for now? Walking and talking is more trouble than you need right now."

"Can you say Jean" Jean prompted, tickling Beth's tummy, round with cake.

It was pain like knives.

"Jee," Beth repeated dutifully whilst staring over Jean's shoulder, watching the occasional boat drift past on the Potomac.

"Close enough" She shrugged and then turned her gaze upon Mother, "What about Gena, Ge-Na."

Beth gave her a look that said straight up this was a stupid game. Honestly, sometimes grown-ups did the silliest things. Didn't they know there was grass to explore and cake that smushed delightfully between the fingers and if they really wanted to play, there were plenty of toys inside but no, they all seemed obsessed with this silly little sound game.
She could indulge them for a little while.

"Jee-Na," Beth said, nodding her head between each syllable.

Hot, burning knives.

"Clever girl," Jean encouraged, ruffling Beth's hair, her curls bouncing just above her shoulder after their trim. Then, a mischievous look passed across Jean's face and she leant forward so that her head was in line with Beth's. She was looking straight at Schofield from over the toddler's shoulder.
"What about Daddy," she said, pointing at Shane, "Could you say Daddy. He might be so excited he might even smile."

Schofield's brain searched uselessly for a sarcastic comeback but Beth was faster.

She looked at him with the smile she reserved only for him (and Knight if she was in a good mood) and announced proudly, "Da-da."

All of a sudden, it was too much for Shane. His skin was on fire. He wanted to jump up and smother Beth in hugs and kisses but also fall to the ground and give in to the pain and maybe he also wanted to cry a little but he couldn't tell if it was pain or joy or both and it was all just too much. It was as though he was being stabbed from the inside out, vicious and sharp and pure white agony.
"I gotta go."

He made it as far as the kitchen.

Resting heavily before the sink, he let a strangled groan escape. This time, the pain was so intense it choked him. He could feel it rising up through his body until he was coughing up bile. He didn't know how long it lasted. Each passing second felt like an eternity. He had thought he had remembered how bad contractions were. He had thought he was suitably prepared (and terrified).
He was so fucking wrong.

It built and built and built until it tore through him with one final vicious jolt and was gone.

"Are you okay, mister?" A small voice piped up from behind him, making Schofield spin around in surprise.

It was Alex Summers' boy, watching him with concern and curiosity through red tinted lenses.

"I'm fine, thanks Scott," Shane replied, forcing his voice even. "Did you need something?"

The boy - Scott Summers - was small for his age and slight. His hair was so unlike Alex's own - dark where Alex was fair, neatly combed unlike Alex's messy thatch - and only served to make him look paler. The unwieldy black and red glasses didn't help either. He was so serious and sombre and if you looked closely enough, a little lost.
And far too young for all of that.

He watched Schofield for a long moment and Shane found himself wishing he could see the boy's eyes properly, get a glimpse of what he was thinking, but eventually he cocked his head to the side and said simply, "Just the bathroom."

"Second on the right in the hall," Schofield replied, resolutely not sighing with relief.

Scott wandered off and Schofield turned back to the sink and that was that.
Or so he thought.

Only, Scott didn't go to the bathroom. He went straight to the yard and found his father and that was how Alex came bursting into the kitchen to find Schofield standing beside the sink, looking down at his hands with a child-like confusion which would have been endearing were it not so disturbing.
His hands were stained with blood.

Alex assessed the situation to the best of his abilities and found that all he could say was, "You're an idiot."