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Catharsis

Chapter 3

Jean looked at her profile in the boutique mirror, amazed at how big her belly had grown. She smoothed the shirt tight against the bump, marveling at the sight. Twenty seven weeks along and her son was growing beautifully. Jean smiled, angling herself towards the floor length mirror to get a better view.

Rogue, however, was not so pleased to see her own reflection. "That's horrific. I can't believe they'd put that here with all the preggo women around. I'm like a house with feet." She had adopted the tell tale pregnant waddle, complete with the hands pressed into the small of her back.

"Non, chere. Vous ĂȘtes beau." Remy was waiting patiently in the husband/boyfriend/significant other lounge area with Scott, keeping an eye on the many shopping bags that the women had procured during the day. "I wouldn't want you any other way."

"Tell him to shut up before I do something unfitting a mother to be." Rogue said, none too quietly. "I am not beautiful, I am a whale." She pointed at Remy with a threatening finger. "Stop!"

Remy shrugged, smirking as he gave Scott a look that said plainly, he could not win.

Scott remained wisely silent, watching Jean admire herself in the mirror. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Are you listening?

:Yes. And I heartily agree.: She shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable. Her back had been aching all day. :Please come rub my back, it still hurts.:

Scott was up out of his seat. "We can go home, if you want." He pressed his palm against her spine, rubbing slightly. "Whenever you're ready."

"Are you kidding?" Jean sighed, motioning for him to stop. "I've always wanted to come in this shop, but I told myself I wouldn't until I had a reason." She glanced around at the racks of christening gowns; fluffy pink lace dresses and delicately crocheted baby blankets. "This has been a dream for me."

"All right then. But we're leaving in a half hour and going home. Feet up for the rest of the day." Scott said, quietly so no one else could hear.

"Yes, Dr. Summers." Jean patted his cheek before going to the table full of powder blue baby sleepers and caps.

That night, Jean couldn't sleep. Her back kept aching even after she'd taken the two Tylenol that Hank had recommended. She got up quietly to not disturb Scott and decided to take a shower and let the heat of the water relax her muscles. The baby swished inside her, the kicks that she had first felt like feather light touches were now becoming much stronger. They were pokes and jabs, nothing painful but much more noticeable. Jean put a calming hand to her belly as she turned on the water to the shower. She let the jets of water pound on her back for such a long time that her skin hat turned red from the heat, but finally worked their magic enough for her to go back to bed and get a few hours of sleep.

Scott woke her up the next morning with a soft kiss on the forehead. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Hmph." Jean said, still tired.

"I've got some errands to go and run. You don't mind if I leave you here, do you?"

"Errands?" Jean said, stretching. Her back pulsed again.

"Just some stuff. You know."

Jean rolled over on her side and hugged her pillow. "Don't even try to keep secrets from me, Scott Summers. You're up to something."

"And what kind of husband would I be if I didn't try? You always said you wanted a normal mundane life, just try it out for a day then and let me keep my secret. I promise you won't be disappointed." He smoothed her hair away from her face.

"Promises, promises." She closed her eyes to go back to sleep. "Have fun."

It was early afternoon when she woke up again; the house around her was quiet and still. She decided to get up, easing out of bed. She felt hot and flushed. Feeling her cheeks with her hands, she couldn't really discern a difference, but decided that any heat she might be feeling was due to the down comforter on the bed. She brushed her concerns aside, looking at the bounty of bags Scott had set in the corner of the room from their shopping trip the day before. Sitting down on the floor, still in her pajamas, she got to the business of sorting and removing the tags from the precious blue, yellow and green outfits and items they had bought.

Stepping carefully downstairs, laundry basket tucked under one arm and the handrail firmly grasped in her free hand, Jean felt a tightening across her belly. The feeling started around the top of her uterus and then wrapped around her like a wide belt. Her back pulled at the same time, so firmly that she stopped for a moment. Braxton-hicks, that's what these are. The dress rehearsal contractions. She shook off her concern and went down to the laundry room to wash the baby clothes.

Jean went about her day, getting something to eat, chatting up Rogue, ignoring the ache in her belly and back. I'm just over-reacting; poor Hank gets bothered enough between the two of us. This is nothing.

By four o'clock, Jean was watching the clock in the living room, timing the aches. Five minutes apart, sometimes four, sometimes seven. A feeling of panic was starting to rise within her even as she wrestled with herself. Hank had stepped out of the mansion, as he was apt to do. She didn't want to call him, not for something silly like this, something that was going to turn out to be nothing anyway.

Hank walked into the room via the doors from the courtyard. "Hello all! I've bought some gorgeous steaks for dinner, I was feeling carnivorous."

Jean twisted around in her seat, watching Hank carry his groceries into the kitchen. She felt so dumb, so inexperienced and yet so very scared. Better just bite the bullet. He'll tell me that this is normal and there was nothing to worry about. It'll be okay.

She followed him into the kitchen. "Um, Hank. Mind if I ask you a doctor type question?"

"Of course not, Jean. Ask away." Hank had opened the door to the fridge and was shuffling items about trying to find room for his steaks.

"I've been having some cramps, and I wondered if they could be Braxton-Hicks."

Hank nodded thoughtfully, closing the door. "I suppose, but you're a bit early for Braxton-Hicks. How do they feel?"

"They're here-" She motioned to her back, "And then they squeeze here." And she rubbed the largest part of her belly. "They're driving me crazy."

"How long has this been going on?" Hank said, eyeing her closely.

"It all started yesterday, I guess. It didn't go to the front until today. They're hard to time, but every five to seven minutes apart."

"I see. Why don't we go down stairs and take a look?"

Jean swallowed the cold lump of fear in her throat. He's just being cautious, it's his nature. "Okay."

It was easy to view Hank as a clinician in the Medbay. He'd been treating them all for years, and not just for the injuries that cropped up in the field. He was professional and courteous, very clearly a doctor when the situation demanded it. So as Jean lay on the table waiting for one of her close friends to perform a pelvic exam on her, she didn't think twice about it, neither did Scott. He was a trusted friend and the best doctor they knew.

Jean watched Hank's face as he examined her, and the furrowing of his eyebrows did not escape her notice. "What's going on?"

He pulled off his glove, and averted his eyes away. "I need to get you on a monitor to see your contractions."

Contractions. Dread gripped her chest as she tried to breathe. "What's happening?"

He opened a drawer and lifted out a small unit with wires and large pink belt. Slipping the belt underneath her, he adjusted the sensors and strapped them down with the belt. He flipped on the machine. The screen caught the baby's heartbeat immediately, 174. Then the number below went to four, to five and rose higher. Jean could then feel her belly tighten. He clicked over a button, and a sheet of paper like cash register tape started printing out the top. "You're in labor, Jean. I'm going to give you some morphine to try to stop the contractions."

"Morphine?" She breathed out. "I don't understand-"

"If it doesn't stop it, we're going to have to take you to Liberty Hospital. They'll have better medication to manage it, plus a NICU for the baby." Hank was calm and firm.

"NICU? Oh my god, it's too soon!" Jean swallowed hard, watching the numbers decrease on the monitor. But the baby's heart remained steady.

Hank went to another station, unlocking a cabinet and selecting a small glass vial. "Where's Scott?" He filled a syringe and returned to her side.

"I don't know, he said he had to run an errand."

Hank tied a tourniquet around her upper arm, found the vein and gave her the injection. The medication burned with a slow heat that drifted through her body. It was suddenly very difficult to keep her eyes open. "Jean, tell Scott he needs to come home now." She felt the O2 monitor clipped to her finger as she drifted.

:Scott: She felt him startle even across the distance.

You startled me! Is something wrong? You feel.. odd.

The combination of fear and the immediate effect of the medication left her unable to soften the news. :I'm in labor and Hank gave me morphine. He says you need to come home.: Another contraction tensed across her, ignoring the morphine's powerful effect. :I'm scared.:

Even through the haze of the drug, she could feel his steel resolve. I'm on my way, stay calm Jean. Hank will take care of you.

Jean drifted off, no longer in control of her mind and let the darkness absorb her. :Take care of my baby, Hank.: