Angel Boy
Chapter 1/?
A 7th Heaven Fan Fic by Lucky Star

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, but as a writer I claim the right to alter facts and fill in blanks as needed...such as Simon's middle name (and where it came from) and birthday...Can't remember if either have been documented on the show and can't find any reliable info on the web, so...I'm making it, and other things, up as I go. Please don't sue me. I'm writing only for fun.


Chapter 1: Mom's Journal

I found my mother's diary. Not just any diary. The one she kept the year she was pregnant with me. I knew I shouldn't read it, but I couldn't stop myself, once I realized what it was.

My mother's private thoughts about me, growing inside her.

Dad would be in meetings all day at the church. Mom had taken Ruthie and the twins to visit Mrs. Bink, and afterwards they were meeting Lucy and Kevin for dinner at some fancy restaurant. I could meet them too, if I wanted to. Suddenly I didn't want to.

I forced myself to read from the beginning, since I couldn't force myself to put the book down. She started with the unconfirmed feeling that she was pregnant, had to be pregnant. She was nauseous, like all the other times. She was tired, her ankles swollen, her appetite erratic and unpredictable. She craved pickles and Rocky Road ice cream.

A visit to the doctor confirmed she was, in fact, pregnant.

I would be the fourth Camden child born to my parents. A boy and two girls preceded me. Mom wanted another boy, so Matt wouldn't feel so alone. She worried about him, especially in his teenaged years, if he had three younger sisters. He was too feminine as it was. He needed a brother. A few days after that confession, she recanted, said she didn't care what the baby was, as long as it was healthy.

She documented all her doctor visits, and everything about the pregnancy. I knew what day she had first felt me move inside her, and how beautiful the moment was sharing my fluttering kicks with her husband. They had made sweet, passionate love that night; something I didn't particularly care to know. So uncomfortable, to think of my parents having sex.

In August, she wrote about two heart beats. Two babies. Twins. I double checked that she was writing about me, being pregnant with me, not Sam and David. August, 1985. Definitely me. Twins?

I stopped reading and pondered the idea. Did I have a twin? What happened to him? He must have died. But I would know. Mom and Dad would have told me. They couldn't keep a secret like that. They wouldn't keep a secret like that.

So the doctor had to be wrong.

She wrote about the other children nearly every day. She wrote about Matt's struggles at school, Mary's kindergarten scuffles, and Lucy moping through the days at home alone, without her siblings. Most days she felt too heavy and bloated to do much with the kids. Dad cooked dinner when he came home from the church, Dad bathed the kids and put them to bed. Most nights she was in bed long before they were, too fat and tired to do anything but sleep.

The entries all sounded alike. I had no patience to read every word. I wanted to know about my twin.

I skimmed the pages, until the beginning of February.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
February 8, 1986
It's time. I've been through this before, I know the signs. I'll go to the hospital tomorrow, or maybe in the middle of the night. The Colonel and Ruth are here to stay with the kids.

Eric is already asleep. I wish I could be that relaxed. Something just doesn't feel right. I'm afraid something is wrong, or will go wrong with the babies. Dear God, I don't know if I could handle that.

I know I should just be grateful for the three beautiful children I have, and I am. I am so grateful. I wouldn't trade them for anything. They are such a blessing, I love them all so much. And I love these babies still inside me too. And something is wrong. I know it, I can feel it. I just don't know what it is.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~

The handwriting declined steadily until it looked like random lines.

Three weeks passed before there was another entry. The letters seemed different, written with an unsteady hand.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~
February 26, 1986
I have just fed Simon for the first time from my breast. I'd forgotten how much it hurts. His grip brought tears to my eyes and I nearly couldn't take it. My nipples are so sensitive from the pump. I'll suffer the pain. Any pain, for him.

Dr. Harris said he might have to go back on the feeding tube, if he has any trouble eating. I don't know if I can handle that again. I couldn't hold him for two and a half weeks. Two and a half excruciating weeks. When I could see him, in that P-ICU incubator with tubes and wires, monitoring his every breath and movement, I wanted to die. I would have died to end his suffering.

He's such a little baby, so small, so weak. Barely four pounds now. Dr. Harris assured me most twins are born at a low birth rate. Simon had been born just under three and a half pounds. Joshua had weighed less than three.

Joshua lived seventeen minutes. Seventeen beautiful, and yet painful minutes. The most painful seventeen minutes of my life. We knew he was dying. Dr. Harris told us there was no point putting him on the machines. He might live an hour, maybe two. Maybe a day or a week on the ventilator. But why put a newborn through that when he was born brain dead and unable to live for long?

The decision had been the hardest choice I ever made.

I held him in my arms, with Eric's arms around both of us. Crying. Kissing him, whispering to him, telling him in seventeen minutes how much we loved him.

Simon had more fight in him. The nurse Lillian held him for me to kiss his red cheeks before she whisked him away to an ICU bed. As Joshua took his last breath, I swore to him we would take care of his brother. Simon would live, of that I was sure.

And he did. He's thriving. Stronger every day. He's gained nearly a pound, and he's gotten bigger. Of course the real test begins today, his first day off the feeding tube.

So far so good.

Welcome to the world, Simon Joshua Camden. My Angel Boy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My hands were trembling. I felt sick. A twin. Like Sam and David. I should have had a brother. Joshua.

Seventeen minutes. He had lived seventeen minutes.

I set the book down gently and lumbered to my feet. I felt...heavy. Like I couldn't move. My brother. My twin brother. Seventeen minutes.

Were we fraternal like Sam and David, or identical? Identical. I just knew it. Somehow. We were identical.

I ran to the bathroom, barely made it to the toilet. Seventeen minutes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

End part one. I have to say, this is not what I expected when I started this fic. I just love it when the characters pull a fast one on me and totally alter the direction I was thinking when I started a piece. But here it is. I hope you like it. Installment two should be posted soon...So stay tuned!
Please R/R and let me know what you think. Thanks! Lucky Star (JjsLuckyStar@aol.com)