Disclaimer: Characters within, except for one (everybody get ready to say "aww") do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: Thank you, merci, arigatou, danke, gracias, etc. I appreciate any and all feedback very much! I'm glad this story is flowing so fast and so well, too. Knock on wood...I hope it will continue to. I think it might have a lot to do with all the wonderful repsonses I've been getting;) A happy writer is a productive writer. So, enjoy the chapter!
****
Unexpected
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"If this is what touchin' leads to…" Rogue shook her head. "Maybe my powers ain' really a curse."
From his place beside her, where he'd been ever since he plucked her out of the cave, Remy gave Hank a look. "She loves me, mon ami, can' you tell?"
Hank tried to smile, but his exhaustion was far too evident, especially around his eyes. The clock on the far wall now read three-thirty a.m., but his second surgery hadn't even started yet. At least he could look across the room and see Storm, still unconscious, but stable. Her lung had been punctured, her ribs fractured and her liver damaged, but she was going to make it, especially if the man seated next to her bed had anything to say about it.
Logan appeared to be dozing, although even in that state, he'd refused to let go of Storm's hand. The hardest part of Hank's entire night hadn't even been seeing to the care of his two patients, but dealing with the men who loved them. Admittedly, Remy had been far more under-foot than Logan, but Hank forgave him. It wasn't just Rogue's life that the Cajun man had to worry about, but that of their unborn child.
"All right, Rogue." Hank stood up so he could see her face over the blue sheet that had been draped across her stomach and suspended in air as to prevent her from seeing what was happening below her waist. She wanted to be awake through the operation to deliver her baby, but she certainly didn't have to see him cut into her. "Can you feel this?"
She could feel some pressure on her shin, but it was unidentifiable as there was no sensation behind it. "Sugah, Ah'm not even sure Ah got a lower body anymore."
"Good. Now, just relax." He turned to Jean, who was helping as best she could. "I'll start with a three-inch midline incision through the dermis and subcutaneous…"
Rogue took a breath and closed her eyes. Contrary to all her bravado and attempted jokes, she was very, very scared. He knew…somehow Remy just knew. She felt his fingers entwine with her gloved ones. "It be over soon, ma chere," he said softly. "An' den we have our bébé." He kissed her hand, careful not to disturb the IV protruding from it. "Maybe I don' tell you before…" Remy stopped.
"Tell me what?" she asked, drawing in a breath. She could feel more pressure, this time on her abdomen, and even though she couldn't see it, just knowing that Hank was cutting into her was enough to turn her stomach.
"Merci, ma belle." He looked down and when he looked back up, she could see moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. "Gambit'd stopped t'inking dat dere'd ever be anyt'ing good in his life. Den he meet you an' he t'ink, here's somet'ing. An' he was happy, chere. Didn' matter what happen…good, bad, very bad. But dere always a little piece o' him dat wanted more." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off gently. "Don' say you know, ma belle. Dis not 'bout sex. Dis 'bout family. Sex be good…" Remy smiled, a bit like his usual self. "Well, dere no need t'tell you…you were dere."
Rogue gave him a hard look, although it was somewhat softened by the mild sedative she'd been given to help her relax. "Ah can't believe ya can still be so damn cocky, swamp rat. 'Specially righ' now!!!"
"Gambit tryin' t'say somet'ing here, chere." He paused to kiss her hand again. "You givin' me w'at I always want. My own family. An…I love you for it."
They watched each other for a long moment. Rogue wanted to look away, but she just couldn't. His eyes were too powerful. She wanted to yell at him, maybe even lash out. He shouldn't be thanking her yet; there were too many things that could go wrong. All the drugs in the infirmary hadn't been able to slow down the contractions, and the baby was going to be so premature. Every odd was against this vision of domestic bliss he wanted, yet he was thanking her?? How could he have so much faith in her body, after every torture it had put them through?
"Rogue," Hank said. "How are you doing?"
"Ah think…" She blinked and let a few tears fall, rather than try to fight them. "Ah think Ah should be askin' ya'll that."
Jean poked her head around the blue curtain. "It's going well, Rogue. It should only be another minute or two." She smiled. **He has faith in you. We all do. You must learn to have faith in yourself.**
Rogue ignored the voice in her head in order to look up at Remy. "Tell me what's goin' on, sugah."
He blinked. "You want me t'look at…t'look at…" He seemed unable to finish the sentence.
"One o' us should see our baby bein' born."
Remy hung his head. "Dere ain' enough bourbon in de world." But he drew in a huge breath and stood up, forcing himself to see what lay on the other side of the blue cloth. "Mon Dieu…" he muttered a moment later. "W'at's dat blue tin'g, mon ami?"
"The uterus," Hank replied. "Hold on…"
The father-to-be's face was a mask of disgust and little-boy fascination. "Chere…de bébé…" He watched as Hank reached into Rogue and gently tugged the smallest baby he'd ever seen from inside of her.
There wasn't any way to describe how he felt upon seeing his child for the first time. The moment should have been overflowing with joy and pride and excitement, but Remy could only stare. Streaked with blood and mucus and frighteningly motionless, the child was developed, but it couldn't have been longer that Hank's hand, just under twelve inches at the very most.
Hank glanced up at him. "It's a girl."
A girl. Remy took a small step back as though something had hit his chest in that instant. And truthfully, something had and it was an emotion he'd never felt in this particular way before. It was instinctual. Powerful. Protective. Parental. Love.
"Ma chere," whispered, still staring at the tiny, but in his eyes, perfect baby. "We have a girl."
Rogue felt her throat close up. "A girl," she repeated in the softest of whispers. "Ah wanna…can Ah see her…please?"
"Of course, Rogue." Holding the child in one hand, Hank lightly patted the baby's back. Remy kept waiting to hear the tell-tale cry of life, but it didn't come. However, the child's flesh slowly began to show some color.
"Hank…" Remy said, not sure of what he was asking, but feeling the need to say something.
"She's breathing," the doctor replied to his unanswered question. "Her lungs are just too…weak to cry just yet. Jean, hand Remy those scissors." She did as he asked and Remy found himself looking at the surgical shears. "Do you want to cut it?" Hank asked, indicating the cord that still attached the baby to Rogue.
He found himself doing it before he'd even made up his mind. Two quick snips and it was over. And the baby was on its own. He lowered his arm and felt Jean pry the scissors away from him. His eyes never left his daughter as Hank took her around the sheet, presenting her to Rogue for the first time.
"Here she is," Jean whispered, wiping away her own tears. "Your baby, momma."
Rogue couldn't say anything. She couldn't even breathe. This tiny, perfect little human being had been made from the most wonderful night of her life, survived every obstacle in its short six and a half months of existence and was now there, alive…but just barely.
"Remy…" She licked her dry lips. "We gotta…name her. Now."
He thought for a second before he said, "Madeline."
Rogue watched her baby slowly flail a fist that couldn't have been any bigger than a whole pecan. Instant love and even more instantaneous worry bubbled up in her chest. "Madeline." She nodded. "It's perfect."
****
Within the first three hours of her life, Madeline Lebeau had her first shot, a steroid injection to build up her lungs, an IV inserted into her little arm, a complete physical where it was determined that her other organs seemed to be doing their proper jobs, and a handful of visitors, who peered at her from behind the thick plastic meant to keep her warm and safe.
Hank aligned the incubator with Rogue's bed after he successfully closed her up and ordered her to sleep. She tried to stay awake in order to watch the rise and fall of Madeline's chest, as though if she closed her eyes, it might stop. Eventually though, the events of the past few days caught up with her, and she dropped into a deep, drug-influenced slumber.
It was Remy who stayed awake to greet the small group of well-wishers that included the Professor and Scott. He sat between his fiancé's bed and his daughter's incubator, unwilling to leave either of them even for a moment to shower, or change clothes or catch a few minutes of rest for himself.
Just after dawn, the infirmary was empty. The Professor had forced Hank to go to his room and sleep, and the other went upstairs to give a full report to the house, as well as to start breakfast. Only Remy and Logan remained, keeping the watch.
Silence engulfed them. But after a long time Logan tore his attention away from Storm, who still lay sleeping herself and looked over at the newly formed family. "Congratulations, bub." The words echoed off the walls.
Remy accepted this with an incline of his head. "It all happen so fast." He scratched his jaw and found it rough with stubble. "Don' quite feel real t'Gambit yet." He touched the plastic wall that separated him from his daughter. "Den I see her an'…it be real. She's here…she be mine. My Madeline."
"How'd Rogue do?" Logan asked, his voice choked. "I was in and out durin' the whole thing."
"She de bravest femme Gambit ever know," Remy said, sliding the fingers on his other hand through her tangled curls. "Hank say…Madeline come early from de drugs Magneto give t'her." Logan watched his expression change from tender to raging. "I ever see dat enculé…I kill him."
The other man snorted softly. "Stand in line, pal."
"Stormy pull through, mon ami," Remy told him. "She got a lot t'live for." He paused. "She have you."
"Yeah." Logan trapped his hands around Storm's limp hand and brought it up to his mouth. "Only…I ain't sure she knows that. I haven't told that I…"
When he failed to go on, Remy lifted one shoulder. "La vie est courte."
"Don't give me your bayou babble, Gumbo."
Smiling sadly, he looked down at Rogue as she slept. "Life be short, mon ami. W'en you got de time t'tell dem you care…you do it." He bent over, resting the side of his head next to Rogue's on the infirmary bed pillow. "'Cause de chance don' always last."
****
Rogue woke up almost twenty-four hours after the birth of her daughter. One minute she was lost to the blissful darkness, and the next her eyes were open. The first thing she saw was the incubator, resting just beside her head. But it was empty.
She let out a little whimper as her panic swelled and she tried to sit up. But hot pain sliced through her belly, reminding her that she was far from healed. Still, she had to find her baby. Her gaze darted about to as much of the infirmary as she could see.
Their voices were audible before she caught sight of Hank and Remy a few yards away at another examination table. Madeline lay on her back, absolutely swimming in the smallest diaper available, and quiet even as Hank listened to her heartbeat through his stethoscope. Rogue relaxed, but kept watching and listening.
"It's steady. That's a good sign." The doctor smiled at Remy. "Would you like to hold her now?"
"I won' hurt her?"
Hank shook his blue head. "Of course not." Ever so gently, he wrapped little Madeline up in one of the pink blankets Rogue had spent so many hours shopping for, and transferred her into Remy's waiting arms. Rogue bit her lip; their baby looked even smaller against his broad chest.
"Gambit need you t'tell him straigh', mon ami." Remy looked down at the wonder in the crook of his elbow. "Will she make it through…normal?"
The doctor took a moment to answer. "There's no reason to believe that she won't. If you're worried about her brain development, only time will tell. I will say this though." He sighed. "The one thing she's going to need is human contact." When Remy frowned, he continued, "It's a biological fact that for proper development, babies require skin-to-skin contact, especially premature babies. The bonding process cements in these first few weeks, not to mention that by placing her on your chest, your body temperature can help regulate hers and your heartbeat is almost like what she felt in Rogue's womb." He put a heavy hand on Remy's shoulder. "This is going to fall to you, my friend. I know you can do it, but it's going to be very hard for Rogue. I'm afraid she might feel detached from Madeline, being unable to do this for her. It's also going to fall to you to bridge that gap. She is Madeline's mother, and nothing could ever negate the importance of that."
"I understand," Remy said. "Gambit do his best." With the very tip of his pinky finger, he touched his daughter's soft cheek for the first time. "Gambit got to."
Rogue turned her head away from them, unable to keep her sudden sorrow from overflowing. She'd shed every kind of tears that were possible, but they'd never tasted quite so bitter.
****
"Ro." Logan traced the edge of her jaw with his fingers. "Are you awake?"
Her long lashes fluttered and he was treated to a glimpse of the white-blue for which he'd fallen and fallen hard. Because she was still hooked up to a respirator, she couldn't speak, but just by the way she looked at him, Logan knew she was fully aware of her surroundings.
"Hank'll take that out, soon as possible," he assured her. He slid his fingers through her hair. "You gave me a scare, Ro. I thought I was gonna lose you."
She closed her eyes for a second, as though apologizing.
Logan sniffed and stared at the wall for a long moment, collecting himself. "Yeah…so, Rogue an' Gambit are parents now. You missed that while you were sleepin'. Little girl. Madeline." He looked back down at her. "Never seen one so small, but I think she just might make it."
The corners of her lips turned up in a smile around the tube protruding from her mouth.
"Dammit," he cursed suddenly, making her wince again. "Scott told us…you took some huge shape-shifter all by yourself. And that he turned into a bear…tossed you around like…" His fists curled up. "He could've killed you, Ro! Do you have any idea how much of me would die if anything…ever happened…" Logan let himself trail off. "You don't, do you?"
Twin tears dripped from her eyes and twisted a path down her temples.
He kissed her hand, his mouth hard and hot against the delicate flesh of her palm. "In case this chance don't last…I care, Ro. More than I can say. 'Cause…I ain't good with the actual…words. I've said 'em before and…it's never worked out. If I say 'em to you…" Logan shook his head. "Can't run the risk. Can you understand that?"
She watched him with the saddest expression, but nodded her head as much as she could.
He stood up in order to drop another, softer kiss on her bruised forehead. "But can you forgive me?"
When he looked back at her eyes, they were closed. Logan swallowed heavily and set her hand back down at her side. "Sleep, darlin'. Everyone needs you better."
He stood, stretched and pushed aside the curtain that allowed for some privacy, looking around the infirmary as he did so. A rocking chair had been dragged down from Rogue's room and was now set up right next the incubator and the bed in which the new mother still slept.
The new father sat in it with his infant daughter resting on her stomach on his chest, which was bare thanks to the extra undone buttons of his white shirt. Remy didn't notice him watching, his attention was so entirely focused on the tiny baby.
With Logan's advanced hearing, he could pick up on the man's deep voice, slightly off-key, whispering a lullaby as he rocked little Madeline.
"Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot…prete-moi ta plume pour ecrire un mot." Remy closed his eyes and rested his head against the high back of the chair as he continued, "Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu…ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l'amour de Dieu."
Logan slipped out of the infirmary on silent feet, unwilling to disturb the moment.
****
To Be Continued
A/N: The lullaby is, of course, "Au Clair de la Lune." If you ever had to learn the recorder in elementary school, you've surely heard it before;) All medical information on C-section births and premature babies came from a variety of websites, and yes, the uterus is blue. Kind of freaky, eh?
Kristen
Author's Notes: Thank you, merci, arigatou, danke, gracias, etc. I appreciate any and all feedback very much! I'm glad this story is flowing so fast and so well, too. Knock on wood...I hope it will continue to. I think it might have a lot to do with all the wonderful repsonses I've been getting;) A happy writer is a productive writer. So, enjoy the chapter!
****
Unexpected
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"If this is what touchin' leads to…" Rogue shook her head. "Maybe my powers ain' really a curse."
From his place beside her, where he'd been ever since he plucked her out of the cave, Remy gave Hank a look. "She loves me, mon ami, can' you tell?"
Hank tried to smile, but his exhaustion was far too evident, especially around his eyes. The clock on the far wall now read three-thirty a.m., but his second surgery hadn't even started yet. At least he could look across the room and see Storm, still unconscious, but stable. Her lung had been punctured, her ribs fractured and her liver damaged, but she was going to make it, especially if the man seated next to her bed had anything to say about it.
Logan appeared to be dozing, although even in that state, he'd refused to let go of Storm's hand. The hardest part of Hank's entire night hadn't even been seeing to the care of his two patients, but dealing with the men who loved them. Admittedly, Remy had been far more under-foot than Logan, but Hank forgave him. It wasn't just Rogue's life that the Cajun man had to worry about, but that of their unborn child.
"All right, Rogue." Hank stood up so he could see her face over the blue sheet that had been draped across her stomach and suspended in air as to prevent her from seeing what was happening below her waist. She wanted to be awake through the operation to deliver her baby, but she certainly didn't have to see him cut into her. "Can you feel this?"
She could feel some pressure on her shin, but it was unidentifiable as there was no sensation behind it. "Sugah, Ah'm not even sure Ah got a lower body anymore."
"Good. Now, just relax." He turned to Jean, who was helping as best she could. "I'll start with a three-inch midline incision through the dermis and subcutaneous…"
Rogue took a breath and closed her eyes. Contrary to all her bravado and attempted jokes, she was very, very scared. He knew…somehow Remy just knew. She felt his fingers entwine with her gloved ones. "It be over soon, ma chere," he said softly. "An' den we have our bébé." He kissed her hand, careful not to disturb the IV protruding from it. "Maybe I don' tell you before…" Remy stopped.
"Tell me what?" she asked, drawing in a breath. She could feel more pressure, this time on her abdomen, and even though she couldn't see it, just knowing that Hank was cutting into her was enough to turn her stomach.
"Merci, ma belle." He looked down and when he looked back up, she could see moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes. "Gambit'd stopped t'inking dat dere'd ever be anyt'ing good in his life. Den he meet you an' he t'ink, here's somet'ing. An' he was happy, chere. Didn' matter what happen…good, bad, very bad. But dere always a little piece o' him dat wanted more." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off gently. "Don' say you know, ma belle. Dis not 'bout sex. Dis 'bout family. Sex be good…" Remy smiled, a bit like his usual self. "Well, dere no need t'tell you…you were dere."
Rogue gave him a hard look, although it was somewhat softened by the mild sedative she'd been given to help her relax. "Ah can't believe ya can still be so damn cocky, swamp rat. 'Specially righ' now!!!"
"Gambit tryin' t'say somet'ing here, chere." He paused to kiss her hand again. "You givin' me w'at I always want. My own family. An…I love you for it."
They watched each other for a long moment. Rogue wanted to look away, but she just couldn't. His eyes were too powerful. She wanted to yell at him, maybe even lash out. He shouldn't be thanking her yet; there were too many things that could go wrong. All the drugs in the infirmary hadn't been able to slow down the contractions, and the baby was going to be so premature. Every odd was against this vision of domestic bliss he wanted, yet he was thanking her?? How could he have so much faith in her body, after every torture it had put them through?
"Rogue," Hank said. "How are you doing?"
"Ah think…" She blinked and let a few tears fall, rather than try to fight them. "Ah think Ah should be askin' ya'll that."
Jean poked her head around the blue curtain. "It's going well, Rogue. It should only be another minute or two." She smiled. **He has faith in you. We all do. You must learn to have faith in yourself.**
Rogue ignored the voice in her head in order to look up at Remy. "Tell me what's goin' on, sugah."
He blinked. "You want me t'look at…t'look at…" He seemed unable to finish the sentence.
"One o' us should see our baby bein' born."
Remy hung his head. "Dere ain' enough bourbon in de world." But he drew in a huge breath and stood up, forcing himself to see what lay on the other side of the blue cloth. "Mon Dieu…" he muttered a moment later. "W'at's dat blue tin'g, mon ami?"
"The uterus," Hank replied. "Hold on…"
The father-to-be's face was a mask of disgust and little-boy fascination. "Chere…de bébé…" He watched as Hank reached into Rogue and gently tugged the smallest baby he'd ever seen from inside of her.
There wasn't any way to describe how he felt upon seeing his child for the first time. The moment should have been overflowing with joy and pride and excitement, but Remy could only stare. Streaked with blood and mucus and frighteningly motionless, the child was developed, but it couldn't have been longer that Hank's hand, just under twelve inches at the very most.
Hank glanced up at him. "It's a girl."
A girl. Remy took a small step back as though something had hit his chest in that instant. And truthfully, something had and it was an emotion he'd never felt in this particular way before. It was instinctual. Powerful. Protective. Parental. Love.
"Ma chere," whispered, still staring at the tiny, but in his eyes, perfect baby. "We have a girl."
Rogue felt her throat close up. "A girl," she repeated in the softest of whispers. "Ah wanna…can Ah see her…please?"
"Of course, Rogue." Holding the child in one hand, Hank lightly patted the baby's back. Remy kept waiting to hear the tell-tale cry of life, but it didn't come. However, the child's flesh slowly began to show some color.
"Hank…" Remy said, not sure of what he was asking, but feeling the need to say something.
"She's breathing," the doctor replied to his unanswered question. "Her lungs are just too…weak to cry just yet. Jean, hand Remy those scissors." She did as he asked and Remy found himself looking at the surgical shears. "Do you want to cut it?" Hank asked, indicating the cord that still attached the baby to Rogue.
He found himself doing it before he'd even made up his mind. Two quick snips and it was over. And the baby was on its own. He lowered his arm and felt Jean pry the scissors away from him. His eyes never left his daughter as Hank took her around the sheet, presenting her to Rogue for the first time.
"Here she is," Jean whispered, wiping away her own tears. "Your baby, momma."
Rogue couldn't say anything. She couldn't even breathe. This tiny, perfect little human being had been made from the most wonderful night of her life, survived every obstacle in its short six and a half months of existence and was now there, alive…but just barely.
"Remy…" She licked her dry lips. "We gotta…name her. Now."
He thought for a second before he said, "Madeline."
Rogue watched her baby slowly flail a fist that couldn't have been any bigger than a whole pecan. Instant love and even more instantaneous worry bubbled up in her chest. "Madeline." She nodded. "It's perfect."
****
Within the first three hours of her life, Madeline Lebeau had her first shot, a steroid injection to build up her lungs, an IV inserted into her little arm, a complete physical where it was determined that her other organs seemed to be doing their proper jobs, and a handful of visitors, who peered at her from behind the thick plastic meant to keep her warm and safe.
Hank aligned the incubator with Rogue's bed after he successfully closed her up and ordered her to sleep. She tried to stay awake in order to watch the rise and fall of Madeline's chest, as though if she closed her eyes, it might stop. Eventually though, the events of the past few days caught up with her, and she dropped into a deep, drug-influenced slumber.
It was Remy who stayed awake to greet the small group of well-wishers that included the Professor and Scott. He sat between his fiancé's bed and his daughter's incubator, unwilling to leave either of them even for a moment to shower, or change clothes or catch a few minutes of rest for himself.
Just after dawn, the infirmary was empty. The Professor had forced Hank to go to his room and sleep, and the other went upstairs to give a full report to the house, as well as to start breakfast. Only Remy and Logan remained, keeping the watch.
Silence engulfed them. But after a long time Logan tore his attention away from Storm, who still lay sleeping herself and looked over at the newly formed family. "Congratulations, bub." The words echoed off the walls.
Remy accepted this with an incline of his head. "It all happen so fast." He scratched his jaw and found it rough with stubble. "Don' quite feel real t'Gambit yet." He touched the plastic wall that separated him from his daughter. "Den I see her an'…it be real. She's here…she be mine. My Madeline."
"How'd Rogue do?" Logan asked, his voice choked. "I was in and out durin' the whole thing."
"She de bravest femme Gambit ever know," Remy said, sliding the fingers on his other hand through her tangled curls. "Hank say…Madeline come early from de drugs Magneto give t'her." Logan watched his expression change from tender to raging. "I ever see dat enculé…I kill him."
The other man snorted softly. "Stand in line, pal."
"Stormy pull through, mon ami," Remy told him. "She got a lot t'live for." He paused. "She have you."
"Yeah." Logan trapped his hands around Storm's limp hand and brought it up to his mouth. "Only…I ain't sure she knows that. I haven't told that I…"
When he failed to go on, Remy lifted one shoulder. "La vie est courte."
"Don't give me your bayou babble, Gumbo."
Smiling sadly, he looked down at Rogue as she slept. "Life be short, mon ami. W'en you got de time t'tell dem you care…you do it." He bent over, resting the side of his head next to Rogue's on the infirmary bed pillow. "'Cause de chance don' always last."
****
Rogue woke up almost twenty-four hours after the birth of her daughter. One minute she was lost to the blissful darkness, and the next her eyes were open. The first thing she saw was the incubator, resting just beside her head. But it was empty.
She let out a little whimper as her panic swelled and she tried to sit up. But hot pain sliced through her belly, reminding her that she was far from healed. Still, she had to find her baby. Her gaze darted about to as much of the infirmary as she could see.
Their voices were audible before she caught sight of Hank and Remy a few yards away at another examination table. Madeline lay on her back, absolutely swimming in the smallest diaper available, and quiet even as Hank listened to her heartbeat through his stethoscope. Rogue relaxed, but kept watching and listening.
"It's steady. That's a good sign." The doctor smiled at Remy. "Would you like to hold her now?"
"I won' hurt her?"
Hank shook his blue head. "Of course not." Ever so gently, he wrapped little Madeline up in one of the pink blankets Rogue had spent so many hours shopping for, and transferred her into Remy's waiting arms. Rogue bit her lip; their baby looked even smaller against his broad chest.
"Gambit need you t'tell him straigh', mon ami." Remy looked down at the wonder in the crook of his elbow. "Will she make it through…normal?"
The doctor took a moment to answer. "There's no reason to believe that she won't. If you're worried about her brain development, only time will tell. I will say this though." He sighed. "The one thing she's going to need is human contact." When Remy frowned, he continued, "It's a biological fact that for proper development, babies require skin-to-skin contact, especially premature babies. The bonding process cements in these first few weeks, not to mention that by placing her on your chest, your body temperature can help regulate hers and your heartbeat is almost like what she felt in Rogue's womb." He put a heavy hand on Remy's shoulder. "This is going to fall to you, my friend. I know you can do it, but it's going to be very hard for Rogue. I'm afraid she might feel detached from Madeline, being unable to do this for her. It's also going to fall to you to bridge that gap. She is Madeline's mother, and nothing could ever negate the importance of that."
"I understand," Remy said. "Gambit do his best." With the very tip of his pinky finger, he touched his daughter's soft cheek for the first time. "Gambit got to."
Rogue turned her head away from them, unable to keep her sudden sorrow from overflowing. She'd shed every kind of tears that were possible, but they'd never tasted quite so bitter.
****
"Ro." Logan traced the edge of her jaw with his fingers. "Are you awake?"
Her long lashes fluttered and he was treated to a glimpse of the white-blue for which he'd fallen and fallen hard. Because she was still hooked up to a respirator, she couldn't speak, but just by the way she looked at him, Logan knew she was fully aware of her surroundings.
"Hank'll take that out, soon as possible," he assured her. He slid his fingers through her hair. "You gave me a scare, Ro. I thought I was gonna lose you."
She closed her eyes for a second, as though apologizing.
Logan sniffed and stared at the wall for a long moment, collecting himself. "Yeah…so, Rogue an' Gambit are parents now. You missed that while you were sleepin'. Little girl. Madeline." He looked back down at her. "Never seen one so small, but I think she just might make it."
The corners of her lips turned up in a smile around the tube protruding from her mouth.
"Dammit," he cursed suddenly, making her wince again. "Scott told us…you took some huge shape-shifter all by yourself. And that he turned into a bear…tossed you around like…" His fists curled up. "He could've killed you, Ro! Do you have any idea how much of me would die if anything…ever happened…" Logan let himself trail off. "You don't, do you?"
Twin tears dripped from her eyes and twisted a path down her temples.
He kissed her hand, his mouth hard and hot against the delicate flesh of her palm. "In case this chance don't last…I care, Ro. More than I can say. 'Cause…I ain't good with the actual…words. I've said 'em before and…it's never worked out. If I say 'em to you…" Logan shook his head. "Can't run the risk. Can you understand that?"
She watched him with the saddest expression, but nodded her head as much as she could.
He stood up in order to drop another, softer kiss on her bruised forehead. "But can you forgive me?"
When he looked back at her eyes, they were closed. Logan swallowed heavily and set her hand back down at her side. "Sleep, darlin'. Everyone needs you better."
He stood, stretched and pushed aside the curtain that allowed for some privacy, looking around the infirmary as he did so. A rocking chair had been dragged down from Rogue's room and was now set up right next the incubator and the bed in which the new mother still slept.
The new father sat in it with his infant daughter resting on her stomach on his chest, which was bare thanks to the extra undone buttons of his white shirt. Remy didn't notice him watching, his attention was so entirely focused on the tiny baby.
With Logan's advanced hearing, he could pick up on the man's deep voice, slightly off-key, whispering a lullaby as he rocked little Madeline.
"Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot…prete-moi ta plume pour ecrire un mot." Remy closed his eyes and rested his head against the high back of the chair as he continued, "Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu…ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l'amour de Dieu."
Logan slipped out of the infirmary on silent feet, unwilling to disturb the moment.
****
To Be Continued
A/N: The lullaby is, of course, "Au Clair de la Lune." If you ever had to learn the recorder in elementary school, you've surely heard it before;) All medical information on C-section births and premature babies came from a variety of websites, and yes, the uterus is blue. Kind of freaky, eh?
Kristen
