Breaking now was out of the question. There would be time for that once they'd be here, all of them but not now, especially not now. Now she only had to breathe and try to relax, she thought. But how was she supposed to breathe when all she could think about was that this was happening, not in a few months, not even in a few days but right now, and she was alone.

The contractions had started early that morning, taking her completely by surprise, and as a doctor herself, she knew she was on labor and was not mistaken, the panic had hit her instantly and she had called Lincoln right away, already she felt the threat of that cloudy dark morning. By now, he must have called Kristine who was on her way. He said she would be here and she had no choice but to take his word for it.
Gritting her teeth at the coming blinding pain of another contraction, Sara slowly dragged herself to the sofa, sitting down with a cry of agony. The gusty wind outside with the heavy snow made the sight but a wall of fog in front of her full glass window.
They would be here, and she shouldn't be scared; she kept repeating to herself, she had trained mentally for this; she has been through this with other women, patients and helped them through this painful yet memorable experience, she had read half a dozen of baby books and was more than well informed on the subject, she had comforted a lot of women when it came to this, so why couldn't she apply all these advices to her situation, do as she preached?

Not a minute had she imagined that having the contractions herself would put her in this state of total loss of control. Her entire life she had felt alone, on the margin of her father's life, of her own profession, being an addict. She had never reached full recovery from all that, and today Sara had never felt messier, more alone, and just a few hours from now she would have a baby? People treated her like she couldn't even take care of herself and now when all this pain and suffering would be over she would have a baby? No ever warns you about how scary it gets during that very moment of realization, but she felt that it was different with her, Michael and her had made a baby, they'd made life, and now he was dead, and she was alone, had never been more alone in her life. A dose of what she used to take ironically had never felt more alluring to her than it was at this moment, a tiny laugh escaped her at the thought; she only hoped one of folks would get here before she got hysterical.
What were the odds Lincoln would make it on time on this snowy day? She avoided thinking of her worst case scenario, of him not getting here at all, of her giving birth alone, on her couch, without anything to lighten the pain, without someone offering their hand so she could break it as she had witnessed with several husbands and wives, it was a fair sacrifice.

…

Kristine pulled the door shut behind her, fixing her hood with a shudder and followed her brother to his vehicle. Sliding the door open, she looked at Paul with silent disbelief "A snow truck? Couldn't we just take my car?"
Starting the engine, Paul turned to her "I'm not risking getting stuck in some road Kristine, get in."
She hopped in without a word about his anxiety and slid the door shut again, rubbing her hands together from the cold "Lincoln could've called sooner," she claimed as they took off.
"There's barely any signal, we're lucky we got that call now," Paul told her sternly.
Kristine observed him silently than asked, "What's the matter, you look worried?" she couldn't hold back the question any longer.
He pursed his lips in one of his nervous ticks, keeping silent for another minute, accelerating at her words. "Paul?" he heard her insist and answered faintly.

"Borrows' car got snow-blocked, he's going there on foot…" He finished his words lowly with a serious dread she had never heard in Paul's voice before, "Sara's on her own."

…

Her front door opened, letting in the blowing wind and snow, chilling instantly her bones. Sara's expression changed in a minute from pain to shock and anger as her eyes fell on Kristine's companion. She did not want him here, not him, she had sworn to herself that it would be a cold day in hell when he would ever see her in a weak state again. The collide of both their shocks hung only seconds in the air before Sara's weak knees gave in as she almost collapsed, saved by her doctor's arms, just in the neck of time catching her.
"I'm gonna need your help here," Kristine called to Paul, stepping inside with Sara. Her urge became apparent as she cast a look at the floor where they both stood, liquid pooling at their feet. Sara's water had just broken, there was not a minute to lose.
Paul Kellerman had never experienced such numbing shock before now; it never struck him this way, to freeze in place from stunt. At that moment, the sight of Sara's sweaty face, the weakness of her body and look on her face when she saw him at her door made him stand motionless, saying nothing.
"What are you…" Sara sneered weakly at Paul through gritted teeth, "here for?" her hand holding her belly. right then and there, he got aware of his present state and quickly steeled his mind again, stepping in and shutting the door.

"Yeah, I know the drill Sara, you don't want my unexpected presence… Lincoln couldn't make it in time because of the snow," He faked his casual calmed voice and told her with a barely there smile, "Kristine is gonna take care of you."
He watched his sister let go of Sara for a moment, rapidly removing her coat and bolting to the nearest bathroom.
Paul took over the task of his sister, a mere inch away from Sara. At the attempted to brace her, his head tilted with a 'saw it coming' smile at her snappy comment.

"I don't need your-assistance…I can walk." She didn't want to feel his arms around her, especially didn't want to think that it was now protective instead of threatening – she wanted him to disappear, she could not do this in front of him.

He just sighed watching her make her way difficultly to the opposite room and hesitantly followed her.
As easy as it was for him to pretend to be calm, the agonized look on the woman's face had him completely off balance, unable to restrain himself from trying to make her pain decrease. He took a breath looking around the room that Kristine had turned literally into a delivery room.

"Wow, love what you did with the place…almost feels like a hospital in here."
He heard Sara puff, leaning painstakingly on the bed, a shadow of a smile lightening her contorted face.

"Your attempt to distract me… from this horrible pain…Paul, you're doing an awful job." She spoke between heavy breaths, and suddenly she was brought back to Michael's attempt to reassure her in the riot, on the ceilings of Fox River – god, the mere thought of it was unbearable, this physical pain was nothing compared to the realization, to the realer suffering that threatened to explode, because he was gone, he should be there, and he was gone, why was he gone, how could he have done this to her?
Paul's eyes shifted to the door at Kristine's entrance, carrying towels and gloves. He was absolutely not sticking out to see this, he thought to himself, ignoring the knowledge of Kristine's need for assistance, he would not watch Sara deliver Michael's child, as a useless spectator, plus this was for her of course, she wouldn't want him there, he was only there to drive his sister, make sure she had a doctor, that Sara wasn't alone, some sort of ridiculous secret benefactor, hell he would settle for it, he'd be her guardian angel if he could, and make sure she never realized the help came from him, and right now the best he could do for her was leave, he repeated to himself, he should leave, but it didn't feel right, it felt wrong and cowardly but he ignored it.
"I'll be outside that door K…" He stared uncomfortably at Sara for a minute, trying not to read into the aggressive revolting look she sent his way before he stepped out.

Gloves on, patient in place, everything was ready for her to start, Kristine was confident. This would be the usual, except for the fact that she was not in a hospital with all the help and equipment, but confidence enveloped her spirit nonetheless, there was no way she would mess this up, for her friend's sake, especially for Paul's sake. All this speech ran in her mind like a rehearsed disc that muffled the nervous 'I can't do this by myself' panic words that rang in the back of her head.
She took a deep breath, she was a doctor, on duty; she had no permission to even doubt or risk being afraid. Putting sensibility aside, she smiled at a tearful-faced Sara.

"Let's see if you're ready," Measuring her was first step which proved it was time to push.
The chocked in screams that Kristine hadn't been capable of ignoring suddenly seized and she looked up at a hyperventilating Sara. She had never seen the woman so shaken, weak and outright vulnerable. "This isn't right," Came a shaky voice out of her, her eyes restlessly looking around her "this can't happen, not now-not like this."
Her chocked weepy tone made Kristine instantly react, "No, everything's fine Sara. Now is the time to push." The next whisper that came out of the mother to be made Kristine seriously reconsider how truly shaken her friend was.
"Where's Michael? He should be he-" Her scream of agony cut off her delusional words "Where's Michael?" she questioned loudly, in fury "he's really gone… how could he put this all on me," hearing another scream from Sara, Kristine straightened up in alert "Paul!" she called out, not taking her eyes off Sara, "Get in here, quick!"
Hearing no response from him she gulped, addressing Sara, "I need you to breathe and try to relax Sara, alright…" she took a few steps back to the door and stepped outside to see Paul's paled figure standing there, giving him a look that clearly said "What the hell?"

"I can't come in," He just answered to the question she hadn't asked, "I'm sorry, I just – I can't."

"Don't you dare cower out of this Paul," Her sister said, not only because it was important for Sara but because if he left her alone right now he'd never forgive himself, "she needs somebody at her side. You wanted to help her, this is your chance," she babbled with upset in whisper.
Gritting his teeth, he stated.

"She can't stand me"
"that's not true, she's angry, she's enraged against you and standing here isn't gonna help your case," he walked back in with her, slammed by the sight of Sara's tears drenching her face, her expression didn't change as she saw him, hell what a relief it was. Yet he had never thought of ever seeing this iron woman like figure so fragile and emotionally at the bottom, not a sign of anger, defense or hate in her, simply sheer agony and he knew too well that it was both of body and soul.
The typical doctor instructions his sister was saying to her went unnoticed as he approached Sara, more than hesitant at her unpredictable moves. She was still crying out, sobbing, right then and there the thought that this may be the moment she was truly grieving her husband crossed his mind.
He sat at the chair near her, just so he didn't fall on his knees, every sound in the room seemed so distant, all he was fully aware of was her, laying there, clutching the sheets in pain and crying out so loud it could wake the dead.
Impulsively, his brain not controlling any of his acts but following mere inner reflexes, Paul's hand went to her head, barely touching it.
It struck him as a jolt of electricity, bringing him back down to earth, to his mind, where he could finally grab control of himself and the situation. Much to his discontent Sara's attention drifting to him made his heart skip a beat. Her tear struck face was a mirror to nothing but weakness as her shaky words came out.

"Don't," She begged, her weak attempt to pull her head away from him failed miserably at his answer.
"I'm not gonna hurt you."
It came out of him so naturally soft and low, it felt honest and God's truth for the first time in years to both of them. Her heartbreaking cries came back to him, dangerously affecting him. She had been calling desperately for Michael, her dead husband, how was he supposed to live up to that, to fill that void? But perhaps her anger for him had been so tremendous that it had somehow lightened the emptiness, because wasn't it better to feel hurt than to feel nothing at all? So maybe she was angry, but was it really hate beneath the anger? It was strong, that's all they both knew, maybe strong enough to remind her that she was still alive, that she could still feel something. And so could he.

He didn't know how it could be possible but he felt empathy, the last thing he wanted for her was to feel alone while giving birth, he was suddenly submerge by a need to make her feel better, to be the man who would make her feel loved again, a man who would be worthy of her, who would stand by her sides for everything that she would go through. It was like a stroke, like he was possessed by this feeling, nothing else mattered, as if she was his only priority, the only brightness in the world, again it was beyond his control, his words flew without thought and there was no way he was imprisoning them now.

"Michael's gone," He said, because he wouldn't lie and pretend to be her deceased husband, he would be nothing but himself and she might hate him but he would be there, always, to make sure she'd live long enough to hate him forever, "but I swear to you, you are not alone…" he went on.
He couldn't believe she was crying harder, but this time spending her poor breaths in managing to speak up.

"Please… leave."

She couldn't let him see her like this, he was the last man in the world she wanted here at that instant, how could she survive if he saw her this weak again? Her health draining efforts made his mood changeable and right then and there, he didn't care what her reaction would be but let out whole-heartedly.
"I'm not leaving…" He simply said, "you can spit poison at me-hit or punch at me all you want, but I am staying here with you… I am not leaving, I will not leave you, I won't fail you again…" and it suddenly seemed to occur to her through the delusional pain, that this was what he called it, that that was what this was to him, that he'd failed her – and somehow he had, she realized, but there was something in that promise, in the way he said he wouldn't leave again that made her believe him, and it should have been bugging but it wasn't, it was reassuring, because he wouldn't leave her, as if he was strong enough for the both of them, strong enough to ensure that he would stay with her, and he wouldn't give up and it unnerved her and drove her crazy but above all it was a relief, because he was the promise that she wouldn't die alone, he wouldn't let her even if she wanted to, he'd be with her whether she liked it or not; she wouldn't die alone – like Michael had. She felt a new round of tears coming, a new blinding surge of pain.

"I got you," He assured, "I'm not leaving you, neither of you," he cast a look at his sister, engrossed in her task whose eyes suddenly focused on his for a second.
"The baby's almost out, Sara…one more push," Kristine encouraged and Paul stiffened instantly at the sudden feel of Sara's hand clutching his arm. The stunt and joy of this made him oblivious to every detail of her shut eyes, or how her grip was cutting his blood circulation. He didn't care, as long as this meant one big step in their relationship, he didn't care as long as it could make her feel the slightest bit better; she wasn't alone and he had made that happen, he had made her not be alone, and he was pretty sure that made every word of her he had ever taken in his face, every confusing destabilizing feeling she had ever made him feel – she wasn't alone, he was with her, and this sounded so right for the first time in his life the expression "meant to be" crossed his mind.
The baby's crying broke his thoughts and he couldn't help cast a look at him. The illusion was over, now the real feelings were coming back, this was Michael's baby, this was the reflection of a ghost that would always stand between him and Sara, and yet he didn't manage to hate the child, not at first glance at least; it brought the strangest emotions, some kind of warmth and peace, something he had never been acquainted with, this was weird, now that he had looked at the child – and he had no idea anything in the world could be that small – he couldn't take his eyes off him; he wasn't sure why but he expected him to be just like his dad, some sort of obstacle in his relationship with Sara, but it was crazy how he looked like her, his eyes were baby-blue, but it was her look, that same way she had of looking at the world with big bewildered eyes, observing, discovering – fighting off the innate reaction, he cleared his throat, well this was awkward enough, he thought. Whatever feeling Paul didn't know, was to be seen as a threat, that's what he always believed and that wasn't about to change. By the time his sister put the little bundle in his mother's arms, Paul was already out of the room, taking a seat on the sofa and trying to come to terms with the rollercoaster emotions they had all just experienced in that room. He hadn't looked, he didn't want to see the look on Sara's face when she held the baby, because then he'd have this image of still being by her side, of discovering this small new human being as well, of living this moment with her.
As much as it had elated him to have a new behavior from Sara, neutral as it had been, it left him troubled of what was to follow. How was he going to face her after the things he had said, not that he didn't mean them, he had meant every word but that seemed the closest thing to the L word to him, and there was no freaking way he was going down that road again. Fifteen years with Reynolds had been more than enough of a life experience in that field. There was going back to it, but strangely enough, the idea struck him that with Sara it might be different, with Sara, it might be closer to "happy"; he'd never seen things like that, he laughed at the thought of happy couples, calling them ignorant, fools, love was pain and sacrifice – but was it? Maybe in the end, it was him who was the fool.
The urgent knocking on the door caused him to spring from the couch, realizing he had been sitting there for at least ten minutes. It didn't surprise him to find a nervous, snow covered Borrows standing there, breathing heavily he bolted in.

"Where is she?" He asked worriedly, even a little angrily, why? Was he supposed to be responsible of the snow?

Paul motioned to the room and saw Lincoln jogging to it, without even bothering to get rid of his coat first.
Not a minute later, Kristine was out, slowly removing her gloves, and throwing a knowing coy smile in Paul's way.
"Shut up," He spoke in response, turning to look away. He heard her laugh in her way to the bathroom and made his way to where she stood.
He watched her throw the bloody gloves and towels, than cleaning up in silence. She looked at his reflection in the mirror and heard him say with a shrug.

"That went well. Nice work, the way you calmed her."
"Thanks." She fell silent for a moment looking down at the sink, deep in thought.

"It's not to take you down on a memory lane…" She said, "but what you said in there, about not failing us," she turned to face him, taking in his guilty expression, "I forgave you Paul, you've come back. It's all that matters."

A half way smile curved his lips as he mouthed "I know" and kissed her forehead.