"This is so stressful," Paige put her hands on her head and walked in a small circle, the forest floor crunching under her feat. "I don't know how to help. I have all these…feelings that I cannot channel into anything and…" She gave a frustrated groan, tugging at her hair as she spun around again.

"Paige, I know you know more about people than me," Walter said, "but I do remember all the times you told me to distract myself if I was spiraling, and you seem to be giving off the signs that would suggest you need the same advice."

"There is nothing that could feasibly distract me right now."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to have sex, but I don't think that's very appropriate."

"Not particularly, no" Walter said, "although it's not like we haven't used that particular form of comfort before."

"True," Paige said. "Though I'm sure I'd feel icky about it afterward, when we got to thinking about Florence and that baby and how they're in there scared for the future while we're off doing it like rabbits among the rabbits."

Walter sat down on a tree stump. "Come here."

"Walter, I just said I don't think we – "

"No, just come here."

Paige did, easing down onto his lap with her feet pointing off to his left. He put his arms around her, kissing her shoulder gently.

"I just keep seeing her leg shaking," Paige said quietly. "I know that's an odd thing to focus on, but once you brought it up in there, it's all I could think about. I can't shake the image and it's scaring me, even though that by itself isn't what's terrifying about all this."

"I brought it up?" Walter asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You did. Do you not remember?"

There was a long, long silence. "Huh. I don't."

"Guess you did hit your head a little too hard," she said, offering up a weak chuckle. "Ugh, this wasn't supposed to be dangerous. This wasn't even a mission, not really. And yet here we are…clinging, like we always do."

"We've gotten out of worse before."

"And we always say that like it's a guarantee we'll get out of this."

"And why shouldn't we? If the alternative is giving up?"

Paige glanced off to the side. Bushes. Trees. Cover. "Alright, come on," she said, hopping to her feet and grabbing his hand. "Classiness be damned."

"Paige?" Sylvester popped his head out of the airplane.

Dammit, Paige thought, before reminding herself that she'd just been debating the appropriateness of dragging Walter off into the woods. "Yeah, Sly?" She asked, "is everything okay?" Letting go of Walter's hand, she jogged toward the plane. "Sly?"

"Yeah, uh, Florence says she wants to talk to you…about something?"

"Oh. Sure." Paige glanced back at Walter, who was nodding at her. "Kay." She hopped up onto the step and crawled back into the plane.


She didn't look like a baby.

That was Sylvester's first thought, although he caught himself, refraining from blurting it out loud. But the tiny being in the pseudo – womb, temporarily illuminated by the little light, didn't look like any baby he'd ever seen. Her skin was red. Her eyes weren't open. They weren't capable of opening. She was wrapped in a blanket, more like a wash rag, but Sylvester could see all her veins in her visible skin.

She didn't look like a baby.

"She's not supposed to be viable at this stage," Sylvester said. "I know there are exceptions, but…"

Toby put his hand on Sylvester's back. "A lot of hospitals wouldn't resuscitate at this age," he said. "Most of the time, that would just prolong suffering, anyway."

"Neither of us would want her to suffer," Sylvester said quickly.

"I know. I didn't mean…I didn't have to resuscitate her, Sly. She stayed with us on her own."

Sylvester nodded. They stood in silence for what felt like a long time. "I uh…" Sylvester said, "I don't really know what to expect."

"It will be a lot," Toby said. "But again. One step at a time. There's little that will change here and now. It will be about the hospital care once we get out of here."

"I want honesty, Toby."

"She…she could be blind. Or deaf. Or both. She could remain oxygen dependent. She could have cerebral palsy or diabetes or any number of other things. We'll know more once we're rescued and get her to a hospital."

"W – what if we don't?" His lower lip was trembling. He tore his eyes away from the womb and looked at Toby. "Oh God."

"We'll make everything as peaceful as we can for her," Toby said. "But no need to cross that bridge yet. You know this womb recreates the conditions of her mother's uterus much closer than anything in your average hospital, especially with the modifications we made. We'll get her…to where we need to get her."

"As long as we're rescued."

"Sly."

"I know. It's just hard…to process."

"Everything about the past few hours have been hard to process," Toby said. "But it's important to focus on positives. Florence and your baby are both perfectly fine for now."

"For now," Sylvester said. "That's the key. For now."


"What do you need, Florence?" Paige asked, kneeling down next to her.

"The placenta…nothing's happening. I had a pain, but…"

There were tears in Florence's eyes. Paige reached out and squeezed her wrist. "It still could."

"My baby doesn't need it anymore. My baby isn't in there anymore. So it's just like…it's just started rotting inside me and…" Florence gagged, a hand up to her mouth. "Oh God…"

Paige reached for the motion sickness bag she knew was wedged between the seat and the wall, shaking it out and handing it to Florence just in time.

"Thanks," she said with a cough, rolling up the top of the bag and setting it next to her. "It's not quick, you know. Bleeding out, that can be quick. This…it's an infection. It happens slowly."

"That isn't going to happen to you," Paige said. "Maybe there is something else we can try."

"There is, sort of," Florence said. "I mean, a baby this premature can't breastfeed. But you can hand pump yourself, right?"

"I…don't think they call it that," Paige said. "But yes."

Florence bit her lip. "Maybe if I do that…"

"The placenta might come that way?" Paige cocked her head. "I mean…maybe? I don't know."

"Can you tell me how to do it?"

"I know how. But I've never had to do it this way. Mine always came in before birth, even with Ralph. But I've pumped before, so I'm familiar with it, at least." Paige got to her feet, walked to the door of the plane, and peered out. No one was in sight. She moved to the door of the cockpit. "Knock knock," she said. "I don't want to come in, but both of you stay in there for a bit, okay? We've got girl talk out here." On the muffled responses from inside, Paige gave a satisfied nod and returned to Florence, kneeling back down. "Massage them. That can help for when you really stimulate. Tiny circular motions all the way around."

Florence nodded, shifting her weight and pulling her sweater over her head before beginning. "I don't know if this is going to work," she said.

"It won't hurt to try." Paige put her hand on the smaller woman's shoulder. And it might hurt not to.

"Also…sorry," Florence said sheepishly, vaguely gesturing to her exposed skin.

"Oh, Florence," Paige said. "I am not fazed by breasts. I do own a pair myself, you know." Cracking a grin, she got down to instruction. "When you're ready to try and express…" She placed her hands on one of her own breasts, over her clothes, as an example. "Like this. Twelve and six on the clock. But don't pinch." She patted Florence's leg. "There you go. It might take a little bit since this is your first and she wasn't full term."

Florence was biting down on her lip. As the minutes passed, she was growing clearly frustrated. "This isn't going to work," she said eventually, exasperated. "I certainly won't get enough to cause contractions."

"You don't know that. That's why we're giving this the old college try."

Florence's eyes were welling up again. "I'm not doing this right, am I?"

"Maybe try it a little more nine and three?" Paige asked. "Clock, nine and three on the clock."

"You told me twelve and six!"

"Yes. Now try it nine and three. You've got multiple milk ducts, and if you move around a little bit…"

Florence stopped, putting both hands up to her face. "I'm not getting it."

"It sometimes takes a while, especially first time mothers. And especially when you have someone like me trying to explain it, and not a professional. It's hard to explain when you just sort of…have done it."

Florence dropped her hands to her lap. "Can I ask you something really awkward?"

Paige lifted her chin slightly. "You want me to help?"

There was a silence, then a tiny nod as Florence stared at her hands. "Could you? I know it's weird."

Paige put her hand on top of Florence's. "Do you know what a group of Scorpions is called?"

"A nest. But Walter says it's called a cyclone."

"It doesn't really matter what it's called, I suppose. But the important thing about them is they stick together. They will do whatever it takes to make sure the others are safe."

"That's not right either. Most scorpions are solitary and prefer to be by themselves."

Paige sighed. "Okay, but you understand what I'm getting at, right?"

Florence, in spite of herself, gave a little laugh. "I do. Sorry."


Sylvester sat in the pilot's chair, his feet up resting in the copilot's spot. Simon, with all his jokes, had made their flight out east amusing much more than annoying. Would they have crashed if Simon had been here on the way back? He knew this plane. Maybe he would have been able to do something.

Or maybe not at all.

Sylvester had always had a love hate relationship with what ifs.

He shifted his weight. He was holding the womb – he couldn't actually hold the baby yet, but this was an alternative, cradling the warm dome that was keeping his and Florence's daughter alive.

It would run, without power reinstated to the plane, for seven days.

They needed to get out of here before that.

Toby was back out in the passenger cabin, on Paige and Florence's request. "Don't fret, Sly," Paige had said when she'd come in, pulling Toby aside and speaking quietly to him. "You stay with your daughter. We will manage out here."

Sylvester looked down into the womb. In an effort to recreate the natural darkness a twenty four week old fetus would have, the womb prevented him from seeing clearly into it. All he could make out was a vague shape that was his daughter, and the little green lights on the side that showed that her vitals were where they needed them to be. He cleared his throat, his voice soft and quiet. "When you smile, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart…my father wasn't around. I swear that I'll be around for you. I'll do whatever it takes; I'll make a million mistakes…" He chuckled. "Maybe I shouldn't keep going. It might distress you to learn that I'm not the singer that Paige is. Although, to be fair, most of us aren't the singer Paige is."

"Did I hear my name?"

Sylvester looked over. Paige was leaning around the threshold, a small smile on her face. "You did," he said. "I was apologizing for not having your talent in the lullaby department." Concern grew over his face. "How's Florence?"

"Well," Paige said, "as you were given news of the birth in a less than exciting fashion, let me try a little here." She stepped into the room, making grand gestures with her hands before striking a pose. "I am happy to announce that we have a complete placenta. Congratulations, Mr. Tipton – Dodd."

He smiled, a gasp of relief escaping his body in a shudder. "Oh, thank God." He got to his feet, clutching the womb. "I need…she needs to…"

"Yes. Come on. Come on." Paige held the door, gesturing for him to go through it.

Sylvester saw Florence still laying on the ground, this time flat, her head cradled by a jacket, and her knees up and apart. Toby was kneeling by her feet, scrubbing the floor with a rag. Next to him was a Tupperware container with a cloth over it.

"Lori," he said, reaching her side.

She looked up. "Sylvester. Is she okay?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I think I will be. Now."

"Can you sit up?"

She shook her head. "I feel a bit weak again. I might get light headed if I try to sit now."

"Okay. Well…" Clutching the womb so hard his knuckles were white, Sylvester managed to lower himself onto his knees. "I'm going to put her…so you can hold her…" He settled the womb on her stomach, reaching for one of her hands and bringing it up against it. "There. There she is."

Florence's hands rested against the sides, shaking slightly. "Oh, Sly, I'll let her slide right off."

"No you won't." He brushed her hair back. "You won't hurt her. You're her mother."


I'm taking my mom to see Waitress tomorrow for U.S. Mother's Day, and then I should have a full week with almost nothing to do, so hopefully I can get some reading done (I know, a rarity these days for me I'M SORRY) in addition to a couple writing updates! I do apologize for the lack of updates here recently. As I've said before I've been busy, but my cousin and his wife welcomed their daughter prematurely around the time I was due to post the chapter where Florence gives birth, and it was a little too "current events" close to home for me to work on this for a bit. Their baby is doing super well though, so thank the stars for that.