Chapter 9

Two or three days passed and Dawn was distant. Blackheart didn't press the issue, knowing somehow that she would come to him when she was ready. The moment came one stormy night after he came home from work.

Dawn looked like an angel or ghost in her white nightgown. Squishie was asleep on the couch and didn't even move for the time being. She was in another one of her odd positions with her head hanging off edge. She seemed to be much less aggravating now that Blackheart wasn't a threat to her precious master. There was something else going on though…there appeared to be a sheen of sweat on her forehead and her dark eyes were glassy and dull. He was about to ask what was wrong when she spoke.

"I've been thinking," Dawn said, ignoring the rainwater that dripped everywhere, "and I believe you. If you say you don't want to go back, then I'll trust you. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you wanted me to."

He jumped, startled when something moved against him. Dawn laughed.

"Junior says hi."

Since Dawn didn't want to know the sex of the baby until birth, they had taken to calling the child "Junior".

"I also wanted to tell you that my contractions are five minutes apart and we need to get going."

Right on cue, her fingers squeezed into his shoulders as the spasm burned through her body.

"Why didn't you call me at work?" he asked. Dawn grunted, then held on to him, panting raggedly.

"I did. The bitch of a secretary wouldn't connect me. The weather was awful and I was afraid to get out in it. The labor came on so quickly…"

"Let's go," he said quickly, helping her get into her shoes and coat. Squishie woke up and whimpered.

"Stay here," he told her, "they won't let you in."

Squishie whined pathetically, but did as she was told.

Moments later, they were at the hospital.

"The baby's in distress," the doctor informed Blackheart, "the cord's wrapped around its neck. We'll have to do a Cesarean Section on her."

"A what?" Blackheart asked, his heart thundering in his throat.

"Just put these on and follow me. I'll explain it in a second."

The doctor shook his head.

"I can't believe these kids today…what are they teaching in school?"

Blackheart fought the wave of resentment and pulled on the scrubs over his clothing. Dawn was biting a corner of her pillow to stifle her whimpers of pain. They were in the operating room within a few seconds. After a confusing few minutes where nurses and doctors rushed around and grabbed instruments that looked remarkably like torture devices, everything was ready.

"Now…we're taking the baby out through the abdominal wall so it won't get strangled," the doctor told him, "it's not normal, but it's safer for the baby and for the mother in this case."

Dawn held his hand and gave him a strained smile. Blackheart stared back at her, blue eyes actually holding some fear and concern.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I can't feel anything. They gave me that shot."

It was the first term of endearment she had ever used on him. He cringed at the wet sound the knife made cutting through her skin. A line of blood appeared and his stomach twisted. As they opened her up, Blackheart had to turn his head. Blood, gore, and guts had never been a problem for him before, but now…

"Here it comes," the doctor said cheerfully," and…there. You have a daughter."

A shrill cry escaped the infant's lungs. Blackheart turned his head and his face twitched. What in God's name was that? It was tiny, squirmy, and covered in goo! Ick!

One of the nurses began to clean the layer of goo off. Pink skin appeared underneath. The doctor finished up what he was doing and cut the cord loose. The nurse sealed the end of the cord and finished cleaning the little girl up while the doctor sewed Dawn's incision closed.

"Here you go, Dad," the nurse said, giving Blackheart the baby.

With the goo all cleaned off, the baby didn't look disgusting now. She was small and pink and was still warm from Dawn's body. Her eyes opened for a moment and he could see that they were a very dark blue.

"They'll probably change color when she gets older," Dawn told him, "most fair-skinned babies have blue eyes when they're born."

The little one was still gasping and crying and he wasn't sure what to do, so he lay her on Dawn's chest.

"Hi little one…" she whispered, "my sweet little treasure."

"Treasure," he echoed, touching the little hand.

Surprise shot through his soul as the tiny hand gripped his. There was amazing strength in those little fingers…

Maybe she wasn't a creepy little sack of flesh after all. He knew he had a lot to learn, but somehow he didn't mind it.