The others must have seen his face change because as soon as Hodgins hangs up from the call, they are asking all sorts of questions. But he doesn't answer, he's too busy silently willing the lift to get him down faster. And as soon as he's back on level ground, Jack takes off.
Keys! Where are my keys?
He's storming around his office, knocking over tables and equipment; though, in a swift move, he does manage to catch a glass beaker before it hits the ground.
"Jack? Maybe I should drive. You're in no state to do it on your own."
"Dr. Brennan, I appreciate the offer, but I just need to get out of here as fast as possible." He finally finds his keys and is nearly out of his office when Brennan catches him.
"Angela is my friend. I need to make sure she's okay." Jack can see the same look of fear on Brennan's face that is probably painting his as well. He just has to get home.
"Okay. Let's go."
[][]
"Angie? Angela!"
"Dad?" Michael's call has Hodgins rushing down the hallway towards his bedroom where he had been not two hours prior watching his wife and son cuddle while watching cartoons. Michael is standing frozen between the door and his mom, his brow furrowed as if he's trying really hard not to cry or be scared.
And now, Jack is faced with another dilemma: comfort his son or help his wife. He's starting to move when Brennan rushes past him, brushing a hand across Michael's shoulder, straight towards Angela who is squatting against the bed, her face buried in the blankets.
"Angela-"
"I know!" Angela cries, not even needing to hear the rest of what Brennan was going to say.
"Hey, bud," Hodgins says softly to Michael, smiling to him. The boy falls into his dad's shoulder, the sobs he was trying so hard to hold back already breaking through. "Hey, it's okay," Hodgins says, rubbing Michael's back. "You were right to call me; you did good."
"But mom-"
"-is going to be okay," Jack nods, smiling. Michael sniffles, wiping at the tears falling down his face, nodding trusting his dad. "And I think the baby is coming." The two venture closer to the girls, Brennan had helped Angela to stand up and still had a protective hand on her side. "You okay?" Hodgins asks his wife, forgetting the other two in the room. Angela going into labor wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either; they had to be very careful.
"Yeah," Angela nods, taking his hand, blinking back tears. "But I think we need to go to the hospital." Jack has to laugh at that; gee, ya think?
"Michael, go put your shoes on. We're leaving in two minutes. Dr. B, there is a black back in our closet, will you grab that?" He'd taken control, way calmer than he'd been when Michael was born, and he didn't know if it was fear or adrenaline, but holding Angela's hand was the only thing keeping him from shaking. And he didn't let go, save for the briefest of moments to help Angela into the car and get in himself. Brennan offered to drive again, and Michael Vincent happily moved to the passenger seat so his parents could sit together, and got them all to the hospital despite Jack's nervous sniping at her.
The receptionist steals a wheelchair for Angela and sends them straight up to the labor and delivery floor, telling them she'll let the nurses know they're coming. When the elevator lets then out four floors up, the organized chaos before them both calms and frightens them. Phones ring, people rush here and there, babies cry; it's a sensory overload none of them are used to.
"Are you Angela Montenegro?" The nurse behind the desk asks them.
"Yeah," Angela nods, breathing through the end of another contraction.
"Good," she types away on her computer, getting Angela registered. "And you are how far along?"
"A little over thirty-seven weeks."
"And your contractions?"
"About every eight minutes."
"Okay, well just sit tight, we're getting a room ready for you. Mom, we need you to fill out some paperwork," the nurse says, handing a clipboard to Brennan.
"Oh….well….actually, I'm not-"
"She's just here for moral support," Hodgins interjects. "I'm the husband," he takes the clipboard, only slightly offended at the misunderstanding.
"Oh, I am so sorry," the nurse apologizes.
"Don't worry about it," Hodgins says plainly, ending the exchange. When Angela gets his eyes, her look causes him to stop. "I'm fine," he says, tapping pen to paper, "really."
Eventually, Angela gets taken back to a room and the nurse helps get her settled and hooked up to monitors which prove she is indeed in active labor; though his personality is wonderful, this nurses' work with an IV needle needs improvement, but four sticks later Angela is finally hooked up.
"Well, hello everyone!" Dr. Bannon says brightly, coming into the room with the same bright demeanor she'd had the last time she'd been Angela's obstetrician. She shakes hands with the adults in the room, and when her eyes land on Michael, her smile gets even wider, if that was possible. "You must be Michael, right?"
"Mmhmm," he nods, unsure of the stranger.
"I was your mom's doctor the day you were born," Dr. Bannon explains.
"You were?"
"Yeah. I bet you're excited to be a big brother, huh?"
"Yeah," Michael nods brightly.
"He's beautiful," the doctor remarks. She always loved seeing the babies she'd delivered grow up; whether that be Christmas card photos or in person chats, those updates meant a lot to her.
"Thanks," Angela smiles. They'd done good, she knew that much.
"Alright, Angela, let's see where we're at," Dr. Bannon says, washing her hands and pulling on gloves. The doctor checks her, noting that Angela is at a five, nearly six, and offers the expectant mom some pain medicine. Angela declines, claiming she did it once and can do it again. With a nod, the doctor agrees, though leaves the option open just in case, and tells them she'd be back to check on them later.
And then they wait. Nurses come in to check on her, as does the doctor, and contractions get closer and closer. Standing is the only thing that offers Angela some semblance of pain relief, and her family takes turns feeding her ice chips, which Michael happily reports they many options of flavors that can be added, and offering any support they can.
She's at a seven and a half when Brennan offers to take Michael to get something to eat, and after some gentle prodding from his parents, the boy follows his aunt to the cafeteria. When the door clicks closed, the beeping monitors and the baby's whooshing heartbeat seem very loud.
It's the first time they've been truly alone all day, and all Jack can think about is the day Michael was born. How scared they were and how hard he tried to be strong for his wife, but it was really Angela who was strong for the both of them. He'd heard a lot of guys say they didn't know how strong their wives were until the day they gave birth, and he'd always laughed them off. He knew how strong Angela was. But when he looks over at his wife leaning against her hospital bed, breathing through another contraction, he sees that exact same strength.
"Hey," he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she replies.
And then her water breaks.
[][]
Angela progresses from an eight to a nine, to a ten fairly quickly and before long it's time to start pushing.
"Okay, bud, it's time for you to go wait outside with Auntie Brennan, okay?" Hodgins tells his son as nurses bustle around getting everything set up.
"You really don't want to be here for this," Angela agrees. "It's just going to be bloody and gross."
"Okay," Michael complies, holding his mom's hand one last time.
"We will come to get you first thing," Angela says. They'd agreed that Michael should be the first person to meet the baby. And with one last hug and kiss, Michael and Brennan leave the room, Brennan telling them she'd let everyone else know what was going on.
"Okay, Angela," Dr. Bannon says, "on the next contraction, I want to you push." Angela nods, looking to the side at Hodgins who leans over and kisses her cheek. Over the monitor, the next contraction stats and Angela takes a breath and bears down as everyone around her starts to count.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
"Okay, stop pushing." Dr. Bannon's direction let Angela fall back against the pillows and breathe. "Jack? Do you want to help?" Hodgins looks from the doctor to his wife and nods. He washes his hands and puts on the gloves the nurses hand him.
"Oh my god, Ange," he says, his face in shock.
"What? What's wrong?" Angela says, starting to freak out a bit.
"Nothing, it's okay, babe. I can see him. He's got hair!" His smile falters only a bit as the doctor tells him what to do as Angels starts to push again. "Push, babe!" He cheers. That head full of hair turns into a real baby as his shoulders come out followed quickly by his lower half. He's laid on Angela's chest and both mom and baby start crying.
"Hi!" Angela gasps, rubbing her hands all over the baby. "Hello. You're okay, it's okay." Hodgins cuts the cord, throws away his gloves and goes to his wife and son.
"You did so good," Jack praises, kissing his wife. "Look at him." He finally gets a good look at their baby boy, and the tiny face before him is the spitting image of his wife. Michael as an infant was a good mix of the both of them, but this baby, at least so far, was all Angela.
Twenty minutes go by, and the doctors finish working on Angela and report she did well. She'd bled more than they'd expected, but with the high-risk nature of the delivery, it was something they were prepared for. And the baby lay snuggled against his mom, wrapped up in layers of warm blankets, perfectly content.
So when the nurses from pediatrics move him to run all their assessments, he protests loudly. Yup: all Angela. "I know, buddy," a nurse in Pooh Bear printed scrubs croons laying the baby down. "Any guesses for height and weight?" she asks over her shoulder at Angela, and to Jack who stands next to her with the baby.
"Eighteen inches, 7.9," Angela guesses.
"6.11, eighteen inches," Jack says.
The nurse hits a button and a moment later the baby's weight appears on the tiny screen above him. "Six pounds, nine ounces," The nurse says, and Jack happily gloats, making Angela happily roll her eyes. "And seventeen and a quarter inches." She records all the stats, and places leads to monitor the baby's heart rate and pulse ox. Though he'd finally calmed down, when his heel gets stuck for the blood test, he starts to cry all over again. During the eye exam, the room goes silent as both parents pray their new son was alright; either way, they were going to be okay.
"Everything looks good," the pediatrician assesses, turning to the parents. "I'll have to check again in the morning, but I see on symptoms of LCA."
"Oh, thank God!" Jack sighs, hearing Angela choke back a sob and whisper her own thanks to the universe. The doctor hands Hodgins the baby, and he cradles the boys close.
"Does he have a name?" the nurse asks, pen ready to mark the forms. Jack looks up fro the baby to Angela, and when their eyes meet, he smiles, seeming to know what she was going to say.
They'd picked the name weeks ago. It had been Jack's choice and came in second in the Twitter poll; though when she'd seen it written out and looked at it all day, Angela had fallen in love. It was literal and meaningful and perfect for their tiny baby boy.
Angela takes a breath, suddenly emotional, her voice cracks as she says his name officially for the first time.
"Phoenix. Phoenix Jack."