Mary stared up at the ceiling as she tried to focus on her breathing, winching as another contraction shot through her. It was different than how it had been with Dean, a lot more painful, and they couldn't give her an epidural.

She was also alone as the nurses and doctor brought her into the delivery room. Bobby had to stay back with Dean to make sure that he was okay, she couldn't and wouldn't leave him alone.

So, that meant that she had to deliver Sammy with just the doctors and the nurses around her.

Even with Dean she at least had her parents, mom had stayed with her in the delivery room to comfort her and let her squeeze her hand.

She closed her eyes and pressed back the tears as best as she could, taking another deep breath. She could hear everyone around her murmuring and talking to one another about things she couldn't hear about.

It didn't matter, she just needed to focus on the delivery and on Sammy, everything else could be taken care of at a later time.

She reached out to grip the edges of the bed, wrapping her hands tightly around the metal bars, as the doctor peered between her legs.

"Mary, you're almost at ten centimetres." he told her. "You're going to have to get ready to push."

Mary didn't answer, just nodded as a nurse gently placed an oxygen mask on her face to help her breathe.

She wished that her parents were here.

"Alright, Mary you're going to feel a bearing down feeling, that means you need to start pushing." the doctor said, settling between her legs. "We're going to count down from ten and on one, start pushing."

Mary nodded, staring up at the ceiling as she listened to the nurse next to her counting down. Someone dabbed at her forehead with a wet towel and she swallowed hard, tightening her grip on the bed.

This part was familiar enough at least. The pain she had been feeling faded away to make room for the need to push.

She breathed in deeply, shaking as someone placed something under his hips to lift her up a bit more. There was someone next to her, rubbing her back and wiping her face periodically.

She wished that John was here.

Compared to everything else that she had gone through the last few months, all the pain and physical agony, this was actually the easiest part. This she was familiar with and was able to get through. It still hurt and it was making muscles she usually didn't have control over flexing and moving.

She took one more deep breath and pressed down, teeth gritting as a mess of noises came out of her as she felt her baby come out completely, a whimper escaping her as she fell back onto the bed.

Everything fell silent as she panted, grateful for the oxygen mask helping her as her entire body felt sore, feeling as if she was melting into the bed and-

It was silent.

The realization made her open her eyes and despite the oxygen mask she couldn't breathe as she struggled up onto her elbows to try to look around. Someone tried to gently push her back onto the bed which she batted away, trying to look.

The baby was supposed to cry, the baby was supposed to come out crying but she couldn't hear a single thing. There were the low murmurs of the doctor and the nurses and everyone else but no crying. No sounds of the baby.

She tried to claw her way out of the bed, some of the orderlies held her down onto the bed, telling her something that she didn't care about and didn't listen. She could see a bare glimpse of her baby before he was placed into a bed and wheeled away.

"Where are they taking him?" Mary tried to demand, her voice coarse and rough as she was being held back. "Why isn't he crying? What's wrong?"

"They're taking him to the NICU, he's going to be alright." someone told her in what she believed they thought were a comforting tone. But all she could hear was the accusations, the firm truth.

She was a bad mother. She couldn't even do a single thing to keep her baby alive. It was all her fault.

"Why isn't he crying?" Mary whispered. "Why didn't he cry?"

"He's fine, he's going to be alright." was repeated to her until the words lost meaning. Nothing that they said meant anything.

Mary stared through the glass, hand on it as she watched her baby Sammy in the incubator. There were machines, too many machines, attached to him and the small hat that they gave to the newborns was too big. It kept slipping down his head a bit with every breath he took, that another machine helped, and why weren't any nurses around to push the hat back up? Didn't the comfort of the baby matter? How could a nurse just let a hat slip around on the baby's head like that and not give a damn?

She didn't feel the tears welling in her eyes or how they fell, she didn't really register anything else but baby Sammy. Alone in the incubator with a tube up his nose and parts and pieces of machines on him. She watched him give a small snuff and cough and felt her heart twist.

She was prepared for a lot of things. She had been prepared to possibly lose her baby from a miscarriage. She had been prepared to have the baby, rest up, and then go to Canada and start a new life for the three of them.

She hadn't been prepared to have the baby and then possibly lose him.

She swallowed hard, pressing more onto the glass as she didn't even dare to blink.

He...he was just so small.

Mary leaned until her forehead was pressed into the glass, fogging it over with her breath. With a great deal of strength she forced herself to pull away from the window and make her way down the hall, wrapping her arms around herself to try to stop herself from shaking.

It wasn't working.

She finally reached the payphone and picked up the receiver, pressing zero first and then waiting for the collect call to answer her as she dialed in the phone number. She had to lean back against the wall as it rang, feeling like she was about to break into pieces.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's me." Mary said, not giving her a moment to talk. "You guys need to come to Sioux Falls Downtown Hospital."

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