Goliath was the last to return, having been the farthest from the castle when the call came. He mentally cursed himself the whole way back, wishing he had listened to his instincts telling him that the time for the baby to be born was coming soon. If he had, then he would have stayed closer to home.
Now he was hurrying as fast as he could, using every trick that he knew to speed the journey up.
He landed in the courtyard, and ran full out to the elevators, wishing, not for the first time, that there was a safe place to land on the medical floor.
He was struggling to hold on to his normal calm… even if this was not a normal situation. Elisa had been rushed to the infirmary, and that was all that he knew.
It was a long, solo ride down to the medical wing's floors, silent except for the pounding of his own heart in his ears.
He exited the elevator, making his way to the rooms that had been designated for the birthing. Once inside the waiting area, he found himself surrounded by his friends and family, both human and gargoyle.
"What has happened?" He asked, seeing their solemn expressions.
"Margaret just came out to update us," Diane Maza said, sniffling into a tissue.
"Goliath," Peter said, getting to his feet. He took hold of Goliath's wrist in the old warrior greeting. "They're going to deliver the baby by cesarean section, because the baby was in distress."
"What kind of distress?" Goliath asked, fear for his mate rising in his chest.
"The placenta was beginning to detach," Beth said, then looked into his face. "Aaaand Gargoyles usually hatch from an egg, so you have no idea what we're talking about."
"Is Elisa safe?" Goliath demanded, not wanting to take the time for this. He'd ask questions later. "And the baby?"
"Your daughter is fine," Margaret's voice came from the doorway. The room full of people who had been so focused on Goliath suddenly swung around to face Margaret. "She's a little early but she's a fighter."
She stood in the door of the waiting area, a small pink wrapped bundle in her arms and a huge grin on her face. She walked forward and stopped in front of Goliath, brushing the blanket away from the small, perfect face of the baby.
Gently, Goliath held out his arms to accept his daughter.
She was a small, perfectly sculpted version of her mother. With the deep skin tone of her mixed African American and Hopi Indian ancestry, the same dark hair and face shape, there could be no doubt as to who her mother was.
The baby squirmed, that small mouth pursing before letting out a lusty cry. Goliath smiled down at her, offering one of his large taloned fingers to the child to hold on to. The baby gripped the finger in her tiny fist, and stopped crying almost instantly. She opened her eyes, and Goliath could see that she'd gotten his dark, nearly black eyes. She looked up at him, face and eyes so serious, as if she knew things that no one else in the room knew.
And perhaps she did.
Goliath looked at Margaret then. "And Elisa?" He asked softly.
"She's going to be fine, Goliath. We had to get the baby out fast, so we had to do an emergency cesarean section." Margaret gave him a tired smile. "It worked, though. Elisa's going to be tired, maybe a little weak for a while and probably more than a little groggy when she wakes up, but she's going to be fine."
"Thank you," Goliath said softly, holding his daughter in his arms. "For everything."