'OK.' Anna Peters looked up at the nervous expressions on the couple in front of her. 'You're ready.'
'I don't think so.' Caitlin argued, panting. She wasn't ready; there was no way she was ready to become a mother. Why the hell she thought she could ever do this…
Anna patted Caitlin's hand. 'Baby disagrees. Now when I tell you to, push.' She waited and as the next contraction hit yelled her orders.
Hawke moved swiftly to help support Caitlin's back, sitting behind her and keeping an arm around her shoulders so she was in the best position to bear down. It was a frantic, noisy, exhausting ten minutes as he supported his wife as she struggled to give birth to their child. He'd never felt so helpless seeing the pain on her face as she strained and pushed. All he could do was hold on. Caitlin barely seemed aware of his presence; her world had reduced to the basic primal urge coursing through her and if her hand hadn't gripped his tightly, he would have believed she didn't know he was with her.
The baby's cry rent the air and startled both of his parents. Hawke's blue eyes widened at the sight of the squalling, messy infant in the doctor's hands. His son. He looked back at Caitlin and their stunned eyes met. They both started smiling and followed the baby's progress as the cord was cut, and he was weighed and cleaned, wrapped in a blanket and brought back to them. Caitlin urged Hawke to take the baby from the nurse whilst the medical staff cleaned her up. Hawke stood and the nurse placed the small bundle into his arms.
Hawke blinked the tears out of his eyes, cradling the tiny handful of baby against him. He looked down at the smooth skin and the delicate fingers that waved at him. He and Caitlin had created this small scrap of humanity; had made this baby. His son. He was a father.
'Hello, son.' His voice trembled.
Stunning clear blue eyes blinked open and looked directly into the damp blue eyes of his father. A wave of love swamped Hawke and for a moment he couldn't breathe.
At the corner of his vision, he could see Caitlin was settled into position, her face tired but happy and she was reaching for out for the baby in his arms. He gently transferred their child to her.
Caitlin's face lit up with pleasure and she smiled down tremulously at the baby in her arms. 'Hello, I'm your Mommy. Hello.' She kissed the soft forehead and smoothed back a tiny wisp of brown hair. A tear fell from her eyes onto the baby's blanket. Hawke sat down next to her on the bed and reached across. The baby caught hold of his thumb; the tiny fingers wrapping themselves around him. He kissed his wife gently and held them both in his arms.
It was a while before Hawke remembered his promise to Michael or that his brother was probably waiting for him too. He walked back to the waiting area in a daze. He had a son. Saint John and Michael saw him at the same time. His brother moved swiftly and caught Hawke up in a hug before releasing him with a manly pat on the back.
'How is she?' Michael asked.
Hawke nodded and then felt all the worry and relief descend on him like a tidal wave. He couldn't speak, his eyes filled with tears and his chest constricted with a sudden wave of emotion. Saint John guided him to a chair and he buried his head in his hands, rocking back and forth.
'Is she…?' Saint John couldn't bring himself to finish the question.
'She's OK.' Hawke managed to get out, trying to breathe as he swiped at the tears with the back of his hand.
'Thank God.' Michael sat back down heavily.
'I just…' Hawke shook his head. 'That chopper ride to the safe house…I thought I'd lost her this time.'
'She's tough.' Michael said. 'How's the baby?'
Hawke managed a smile. 'Wonderful.' His voice sang with pride. 'Incredible. He has the tiniest fingers.'
Michael stood up. 'Well, I'd better go and tell Marella. She's been desperate for news.'
'How's she doing now?' Hawke asked.
'She's OK.' Michael said. 'Annoyed at getting shot. I'd better get back to her.'
'Michael, tell her…' Hawke cleared his throat and got to his feet. 'Tell her thanks.'
Michael nodded. 'Give our love to Caitlin.'
Hawke clasped Michael's outstretched hand.
Saint John shifted uncomfortably as the men exchanged a look which said more than words ever could. He was glad when the eye contact was broken as Michael moved away and sighed in relief.
'Marella?' He asked Hawke quietly.
'Michael's…partner.' Hawke explained awkwardly. He hesitated. 'Did Michael explain…?'
'Yeah.' Saint John hit him with the bear. 'You should have called me.'
Hawke shrugged. Calling his brother to help hadn't even occurred to him. 'We had it covered.'
'I would have liked to have gone after Dom's killer too.' Saint John muttered.
Hawke heard the hurt under the plaintive tone and patted his brother's arm. 'I'm sorry.'
Saint John felt his tension ease with the sincere apology.
Hawke gestured at the bear. 'That for the baby?'
'It might be.' Saint John ruffled the bear's fur. 'Although I'm kinda thinking about keeping him.'
'Come on.' Hawke said getting to his feet. 'You can give it to him personally.'
'Are you sure?' Saint John said nervously. 'I don't want to intrude…'
'I'm sure.' Hawke repressed a smile at his brother's obvious alarm and pulled him towards the room they'd settled the new mother and baby in.
Caitlin smiled when the brothers entered. She was holding her sleeping son in her arms. She was tired but didn't want to rest; all she wanted to do was watch her child. Saint John walked over and kissed her cheek whilst Hawke walked around to the other side of the bed and sat next to his wife, an arm going around her shoulders, another to gently cover the hand holding their child.
'Hi.' Saint John waved the bear.
Caitlin grinned. 'He's cute.'
'He's cuter.' Saint John said indicating his nephew. God, the baby was small but he could already see the mix of his brother and sister-in-law in the shape of the face and the tiny features.
His brother's blue eyes met his seriously. 'Saint John, I'd like to introduce you to your nephew…'
Saint John waited for the name impatiently.
'Dominic.' Hawke said proudly. 'Dominic Alan Hawke.'