Author's Notes: I'M BACK!

This chapter is told in Willow's POV again.

Chapter Twenty One - Say

"You are so lucky," Heather said, venom dripping from her voice, "that you don't have to go through this."

From where I was sitting on the hospital bed, I watched her pace back and forth. We'd been here for nearly an hour and the doctors still said Heather wasn't dilated enough. It was my job to sit and listen to her scream in the tiny room full of white-washed walls and frightening machines. More than once she'd squeezed the hell out of my hand and nearly broken all the bones in it. Now, she gripped her stomach and bent over with a horrible groan.

"Shit!"

Heather sat on the ground and began to cry. She was practically writhing in agony, and this wasn't even the worst of it. "It huuurts," she wailed.

"I know."

"No, you don't. You've never given birth before. But you will one day, right? Don't you want kids?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Yeah. Exactly. And when that day comes and you're having a baby, I'll be there saying 'I told you so' and you won't be able to deny me because by then, I'll have gone through the damn thing myself."

I didn't say anything, mainly because I knew Heather was ranting to herself. Partly, though, I was thinking about Seth. Once Heather had told me the baby was coming, I'd sobered up pretty quickly, and on the way to the hospital, regret had started chewing at me. The worst possible kind, the one where it's destined to drag you down and grind you in the dirt. I felt awful for being a bitch to Seth, and the only thing that was keeping me from running over to his house to apologize was the fact that Heather would probably kill me if I did.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God…" she whimpered. I felt so sorry for her. "Go get a doctor. Now. Or else I'm going to die of pain here."

"They're just gonna say the same thing they said the last time, Heather."

"I don't give a fuck!"

"Alright, alright. I'll get a doctor." I stood up and exited the room while she struggled onto the bed, taking deep breaths. Two rooms down, I found a nurse surrounded by about a hundred people. Everyone was talking to her, asking questions and saying hell knows what and making a huge racket. She looked like she desperately needed to take a break (or punch someone, at the very least) when I walked up to her.

"What? What do you want?" she barked.

From somewhere behind her, a person called, "Sheryl--"

"My sister is dying in pain." When she looked alarmed, I quickly added, "She's giving birth. She asked me to get someone."

The nurse, who I assumed was Sheryl, softened up a bit. "Her name's Heather, isn't it?"

"Yes." I was about to ask how she knew her name when it occurred to me that, since Heather was the only one currently having a baby, it was just easy for her to remember. Or something.

Sheryl turned and said to a nurse behind her, "Can you help her out? Her sister's giving birth."

"Okay," said the nurse, and she followed me into the hallway. When we entered Heather's room, I saw that my sister was sprawled out over the bed with a hand on her stomach and tears rolling down her face. The second she saw us, she sat up - perhaps a little too quickly, because Heather winced.

"Thank God," she gasped.

As the nurse examined her, I stood by Heather's side and tried my best to calm her down. "It's okay, Heather. Think of good stuff. Like the library. And…uh…" I tried to think.

"You're moving along pretty fast," said the nurse, sounding surprised. "In fact, I believe you're ready for the painkillers."

"Jesus Christ!" shrieked Heather as the nurse moved out of the room. "That took long enough!"

"I know," I said. "Um, how about you think about…er…remember that time when…you made that cake a few weeks ago, and it caught on fire?"

"Yeah. That was a total waste of time."

"Totally. And," I continued, as a doctor walked in, "think about…CJ."

There was an immediate change in the atmosphere as I said this, but I ignored it. Heather looked uneasy. Normally, we didn't talk about our brother, who'd been adopted by a married couple a few weeks ago. It was painful, and we tried our best to steer clear of it. But I decided to go ahead and jump into it, since there probably would never be another time I'd be able to bring it up without bursting into tears, anyway.

"Remember that time when we went to the beach and he found that crab? The yellow one? And tried to stick it in his mouth?"

"Yeah." Heather hesitated, and said softly after a moment, "I miss him."

"I do, too."

We stood in silence and listened to the steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat, provided by the fetal monitor. I felt a weird rush of pride listening to that sound. It was strange, but I was just suddenly so proud of Heather and how she'd come this far without breaking down, like I would have.

Three hours had passed.

Heather and I were both exhausted by this point, but, seeing as I had the advantage of being able to take a nap, I shouldn't have complained.

Night was falling fast; it was 9:42 P.M. by now. The darkness had settled over the sky like a blanket, which was sounding extremely appealing, unlike the plastic hospital chair I'd been sitting in. My back was aching when I sat up and blinked in the direction of the room Heather was in. After a moment, I stood up and opened the door.

Heather sank into her pillow, panting. "How long has it been?" she groaned.

"Four hours," said a nearby nurse.

"When will it be over?" Heather breathed.

"It can last a long time, sweetheart. Once, we had a birth that took nearly a day and a half." After she noticed Heather's panicky expression, the nurse quickly added, "but I doubt it'll take that long for you, honey. With the pace you're at, it should be about another four or so hours."

"God."

"How are you holding up?" I asked Heather. She gave me a tired look and yawned.

"Is that enough of an answer for you?" she snapped.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Heather. Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

"Oh." I didn't say anything for a minute, then continued, "I'm gonna go back to the house for a minute, okay? I forgot to bring food. And I'm hungry."

"Do you have any money to buy some?"

"No."

"Smooth."

"I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Okay," Heather said weakly, closing her eyes and taking in a shaky breath.

When I arrived back in La Push, Jacob was the first to greet me. He had a stack of sandwiches in one hand, one of which he offered to me. "You look starved," he said.

"Thanks," I replied. "What in the world are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Oh. Well, I know how that feels."

We walked along in silence. It really was dark; I could barely see my own two feet in front of me. In fact, I had no idea that someone other than Jared was walking in front of me until I bumped into them and landed on my butt.

"Geez, Seth," said Jacob. "Clumsy, much?"

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

As cliché as it may sound, I felt my palms start to sweat at the sound of his name. I mentally replayed our argument earlier that day and winced at the memory.

I couldn't see a thing. Nothing but the tanned hand reaching for me through the darkness. I grabbed onto it, and Seth helped me up. Even in the late night, I could see that his face was trouble.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," I replied. "I am, too."