Why, hello there. Hue huee huueee! ;D

My apologies, dearest readers for the delay. I had to go to my grandma's house with my family to look after her after her surgery, so I'm really sorry I couldn't update since then! :( (Family comes first after all!)

Can I just say that Blood of Olympus is the reason that my feels have been yanking each of my limbs and telling me to fangirl over it?! I'm a proud member of the PJO fandom (so I'm not sure.. Would you call us the Camper Family or the Demigod Family..? Probably the Demigod Family..) I stayed up till 2 AM to finish it. (I'm always like that if I'm really, REALLY into a book.. xD) But I still can't believe it.. BOO is the last book for PJO, there'll be no more of our cutie patootie OTP's anymore, no more of the POVs of our beloved characters, no more of their lame jokes.. It just makes me sad, you know? ;_; Uncle Rick, thanks so much for PJO and HOO :)

Yes, I know. I'm not all that fond of Mark myself, and yet I still gave him a POV! :P (The irony..) What can you understand from the title? Hmmm… A baby.. I wonder whose baby. I wonder which baby.. Imma give y'all a hint or two: She's a ginger. She's got emerald colored eyes..*rapidly winking and wiggling eyebrows* (It must look weird doing both at once.. xD) BTW, my apologies for the "That's What She Said" joke on Logan's POV. My temptation and disgustingly dark sense of humor led to that, so.. Yeah.. ;3

HERE. WE. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. :DDD

Enjoy, guys!

MARK'S POV

10 minutes later..

People have always been dragging me down and telling me that I'm a lost cause. A screw-up. Now I know exactly what they mean by that.

Fighting off the remaining Runners was already hard enough, but having to do all on my own after Logan passed out? Jesus. That was even worse. But then again, I only have myself to blame. If I hadn't been waving Anna's fucking switchblade around, Logan wouldn't have gotten that gash of his in the first place.

Carrying his limp body is exhausting, especially because of his bulky physique. How does he carry himself around, anyways?

I could've sworn that Boston's back gates are closer than this. It's taking forever, but I guess when you're in pain, everything does. I'm coated with blood, and it's not even mine. The left side of my neck is ridiculously itchy, and it burns like hell. How am I supposed to explain this to Anna? How's she gonna cope without me? Even worse, how am I supposed to explain Logan eye to Melanie? Oh my God, she'll fucking kill me..

I continue to trudge along the direction of the back gates as I hold on to Logan's waist on my right arm and grip Logan's left arm over my shoulder. The weight is dragging me down, but I have to get back, I have to! I continue to grumble and gripe as I approach the doors of the gates.

LOGAN'S POV

Much later..

I feel heavy. I can't move any of my limbs. My breathing is feeling really labored, I blame blood loss. Or should I blame Mark? What am I saying? It doesn't make any sense. Why am I blaming Mark again? Oh right, the gash on my head. Stupid me.

"I'm telling you, man." It's Mark. His voice both raised and very agitated. "You've got to let us in. Do you see the fucking gash on his head getting any better with us standing here? We have to do something, man. Let us in!" I can see clearly enough to notice the guards on duty exchange a look as well as who they are. Nick and Jeffrey, junior members, they only just joined 2 months ago. They're only a little younger than us. That's how most of us communicate with each other; glancing one way or the other, eyebrow raises, little nods; everything to do with discretion and being covert. Unfortunately for them, Mark and I have been doing this for way longer, so we know exactly what they're signaling to each other: WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO?!

I can see them literally shaking in panic, but why? I get that Mark can be quite the aggressor, I get that, but why the fear? They're freaking quaking in their combat boots. Nick, the one wearing a regular soldier cap, has his arm shaking ridiculously as he holds his communicator, like we're in a cartoon or something. "Ye-Yeah! We'll l-let you in. Just-" he stops midsentence and says, more like in a hiss, into the communicator, "We need 2 scanners and reinforcements over here stat. I've got a feeling both of them are infected." I don't hear it very clearly, but I do, "Shoot 'em if you have to."

Clearly, this has an effect on the two rookies because they've suddenly stopped shaking, as if they've turned into robots after being issued a command. They both reach for their guns and point them at us in an orderly fashion.

I make this sound, a cross between a whimper and a moan, as Mark stands taller to make it easier for him to anchor my support. I guess my bulk always did have both its advantages and disadvantages. "Wait." Mark says exhaustedly. I turn to look at him and immediately regret it as I wince in pain from my head-turn. Mark was smart enough to actually bandage my head tightly enough to stop the bleeding, and I think the wound has managed to partially close up in the time that I'd been passed out, except for the fact that my head still aches every time I move it, especially since my skull is right underneath the gash. If Mark had been a fucking dumbass and left me to bleed to death, I wouldn't be here right now. He must've cleaned and disinfected it too because it hurts a lot less than it did before. Perks of having an ex-Firefly nurse for your girlfriend, I guess.

"It's me you want. Not him." I furrow my brow in confusion as I continue to stare at him. "What're you talking about?" I ask him slowly and carefully. Mark gives me a tired smile, turns to face the rookies and replies, "His head's bandaged up because of a gash; he didn't get bitten."

The two of them lower their guns and exchange glances briefly. I'm just as confused as they are. What the hell does he mean by that..? Mark slowly tugs open the left side of his unbuttoned uniform with his left hand, revealing an ugly looking bite mark on his neck. The flesh, raw and red, is disgusting to look at; frankly, I'm surprised by how well he hid that underneath his shirt. He brought me here while he kept quiet about it and bore the pain of it all by himself. I clench my jaw and give him an accusing look. "Why..?" I start with a crackly sounding voice. The tired smirk he gives me is obviously telling me to shut up and listen. "Come on, Ross. Granted, I don't owe you anything, but I couldn't just leave you to die over there."

"That's not it." I interrupt. "What else is there?"

The sigh of exasperation he gives me is long and shallow. "I owe Melanie. I owe Anna." Mark answers flatly. "I owe everyone. I was a dick to all of you when we were with the Fireflies, even to my old man, Gary. But then, I got to know Anna during my constipation episode. She changed me. I'd do anything for her, man. You know that. Then, I met you. You took my insults so calmly, and you still do in fact. Color me impressed, really. A couple of days later, I met Melanie 'the Shrimp' Miller. She didn't take too kindly what I'd been saying to her. And, I don't know. This voice in my head has been telling me to stop after all this time, but I can't, you know? I couldn't. It's just in my rebellious nature. I refuse to take orders and.." Mark stops talking all together to let out a long huff of air. Talking must be exhausting when you're infected.

"So the point is.. I'm trying to make it up to her." Huh. I raise an eyebrow at him since raising both of them will end up reopening the gash all over again. "After 3 years of the same nonsense again and again and again.. I figured I might as well put an end to it. I want us to be square, so if I bring you back to her, in one piece and still alive, she'll hopefully forgive me for everything I've done to her, you know?"

I manage to stand on my own and I push Mark's arm away from me. Biggest idiot known to man, but also one of the bravest. I want to remember every single detail about him, but I can't. These rookies are going to have to execute him. Dirty blonde goatee and hair, a celebrity's smile, an attitude of a fucking dick, but a heart of gold in the end. "So what now?" I ask Mark after a briefly sad silence. "You tell Anna exactly what happened. You leave nothing out. You make sure to tell Melanie that I'm sorry for everything. Oh, and one more thing." Mark uses his left hand to smack me across the face lightly. "Make sure that Anna picks a decent name for our kid. I have a feeling it's a boy, and if it is, give him a name like Dean or Jake. But, if it's a girl, tell Anna this: don't give her the name of a goody two-shoes. Besides, like mother like daughter." Mark chuckles to me.

Jeffrey reaches for Mark's arms and makes him put them behind his head. "Tell her I love her, okay?" I begin pawing at my bullet proof vest in discomfort. This is it. He's expecting me to remember all this. His last words. Entrusted to me. "Anything else?" I ask quietly.

I notice a solitary tear sliding down his cheek as he gets down on the ground. One last killer smile before it's all over. He tosses me the switchblade – now shut – towards my direction, I manage to catch it.

"Thank you."

Goodbye.

Much later..

I don't stay to watch them shoot Mark in the head. In fact, I go straight through the gates and give each of the rookies a pummel to the head and a warning to them, just to make sure they don't snitch on me; and if they do.. Oh, they know exactly what's coming for 'em.

Going through the back's a lot quieter than going in from the main entrance. Besides, why would I want to get unwanted attention from the civilians?

Banging- that's what she said - on Anna and Mark's apartment door was one of the last things I had in mind. Especially since I know that Mark's dead and that Anna's the only one inside, or so I thought. What am I supposed to say to her? I don't wanna sound like a heartless government drone speaking in monotone saying shit like, "Marcus was an excellent soldier. He will be missed."

"Come in!" someone yells to me from inside. I turn the door knob, take a deep breath, and push the door open.

PRESENT TIME - AWKWARD SILENCE

Her voice comes out almost like a whisper; audible yet silent. "Logan..?!" So is the tackle-like hug she envelopes me in. The thudding of her footsteps on the floor is frighteningly loud. The blush that appears on my face could have melted paint. Mel pushes me away a little and starts rambling as she looks up at me, "Where the hell were you?! I've been worrying about you this whole time! What if something happened to you and I didn't know about it?!" The tears gliding down her cheeks are fresh and still falling. It really does make me happy seeing how much Mel cares for me. I'm happy to say that I don't have any regrets. I give her an exhausted smile; it's all I can do to not bring her to me and kiss her, but I don't need to. Mel does it by herself; pulling my face down, bringing my lips to hers.

MEL'S POV

"I'm glad you're safe." I say to Logan, cupping his face with both of my hands. His forehead is partially bandaged, but mostly bloody and sweaty. The blood on his bandage is fresh because of its bright red hue instead of a muddy brown color.

I let my right index finger drift along the bandage gently, following the path of it along his forehead. When I pull back my finger and examine it, I notice that there is leftover blood glued onto my finger. The blood is seeping right into the bandage. "What happened to you?" I ask him in a whisper. Logan buries his head into my collarbone as I pull him into me for a long and silent hug on Anna's couch.

"I just want to get it treated. It hurts. It hurts so much." Logan whimpers to me. My hand strokes his soft mahogany brown hair; I kiss the top of his head for reassurance. "What even happened to you?" I ask again.

Logan pulls away and sits cross legged, his gray eyes refusing to meet my dark brown eyes.

He takes out a bulky looking pen sized object out from his pocket. Steel base and wooden frame. Logan clicks one of the steel knobs on the frame, and out pops a small but sharp blade. "This is Anna's, but Mark borrowed it from her." Logan explains to me as he stares at the switchblade. "We were jumped by Runners. We fought 'em, Mark ran out of ammo and had to use this. He starts waving it around like it's some kind of Olympic hammer and he ended up nicking me here," he says, as he points at where the wound is. "Doesn't look like he nicked you. Looks more like a failed attempt at a stab." I reply flatly.

The dry laugh he gives me is absurd. "There's no point in disrespecting the dead." An awkward silence follows. Mark.. is dead..?! Logan changes the topic as he notices my discomfort. "It's still bleeding, and it's already been a few hours since then."

"Anna should be able to stitch it up for you in no time." I tell him matter-of-factly.

Logan keeps quiet for a few seconds, looks around the room briefly and then turns to me, "Where the hell is she anyways?"

I reply almost immediately, "She left almost as soon as you came. She was worrying about both of you and what possible injuries you guys could've gotten in the time that you were gone. She left to get fresh medical supplies from-" I notice Logan leaning towards me. Funny, I don't remember his face being this close to mine. I close my eyes and wait for his lips to approach mine.

We're cut off by the sound of the front door of the apartment opening. "Hey there, lovebirds. How's it going?" Marlene..? What's she doing here? I only just notice the cardboard box she's carrying when Anna hobbles inside- one hand on her belly and the other leaning against the door - along with the label on it scrawled in black marker; it's the medical supplies.

After unloading..

"So tell me. Exactly, how did this happen?" Anna asks Logan as she examines the wound on his head after unwrapping the bandage on his head. I can see Logan looking at something in the apartment from the corner of his eye; spending as much time as I did with him for the past 3-4 years has been pretty beneficial for me, and in this case, I know Logan's trying to come up with either a white lie or a way to go right around the truth. A long pause follows his eyeball twitching.

Anna lets out a tired breath and continues anyways, "Fine then. Don't tell me." Anna uses a rag and dips it in hydrogen peroxide, "Oh, and FYI, this is gonna hurt like hell. Just hold still." Logan flinches only a little bit as the dipped part of the rag touches his gash. "Wow. No screams? Even better. Excellent, in fact." Anna says to us gleefully with a smile. That's because he's squeezing my left hand the way an angry man would with a stress ball. I'm surprised I can still feel anything in it in the first place, especially with it turning a dark red color.

Anna's behavior is concerning me. Usually she'll act all depressed and cranky, upset about the world and how it turned out; seeing her behaving in a.. 'quirky' manner is quite alarming, especially since it's coming from her. She's probably trying to hide the grief of Mark's being missing. She probably knows that he's dead, though.

"Did Mark clean your gash up before he.." her voice fades to a whisper. My theory's been proven correct. Logan gives a small and polite nod to her in reply. "Atta boy." I notice her lips twitching upward in pride.

Several minutes later..

"So, have you ever had stitches done for you before?" I ask Logan, trying get his mind off of Mark and his death.

"Nope." He replies dully.

"Oh."

Anna returns with a sterile sewing needle and thread. "I'm back and here it is!" Anna announces to us with pride. Anna holds it up like it's the last sterile sewing needle and thread there is left in the USA, there are probably many others that we just happened to not have found just yet, but you know.. The point of the needle twinkles in the light of this dim apartment. I jump forward almost as soon as I see Logan plummeting towards the floor, eyes shut, mouth half open. I catch him just in time before his head would make an impact on the floor, making the gash gush out more blood like milk from a carton, killing him because of blood loss. New fun fact about Logan: He's fucking terrified of needles and syringes.

A while later..

It's a strange sight, seeing a needle being popped into Logan's skin, then being pulled out, then pushed back in repeatedly. The amount of blood that was there.. I can't even begin to describe it.

What made it even worse for me was that it was just above Logan's eye and on his face. Bright side? Logan was unconscious through it all, so he mustn't have felt anything.

Sometime later..

"Someone get me a Scotch. Today please." Anna moans to me as she tries a failed attempt at a playful smack to my face with one of her blood coated gloves. She lets out a big puff of air after plopping herself onto the couch. Her mini nurse ponytail comes loose and her ginger strands start dangling from the back of her head. Her so-called fringe was tied back before, but after Logan's stitching, it's started to poke her eyes from above. We've left Logan to lie down in Anna's room, not exactly sure why, but..

I sigh in frustration and give her a look after handing her a towel. The amount of eye twitching I gave her is ridiculous. Scolding hasn't always been my forte, but in Anna's case, "Pregnant women aren't supposed to be drinking in the first place. SHTUPIIIIIID."

Anna simply cackles and brushes it off like it was nothing. "It's been months since I last had a drink. You might as well give me that Scotch now since I'm due any minute now-". Anna wrinkles her nose and looks at me, an unpleasant look on her face. "Fuck. I think I just wet myself."

"You think you wet yourself?" Marlene asks, dumbfounded as she starts pouring herself a Scotch. "You should know! You should've felt that, though!" I exclaim to her pointing at her now wet trousers.

Piss tends to have this pungent smell in the early stages of pregnancy; thing is, it's been 9 months already. We didn't smell anything. At all. Anna looks down out her belly then back up at us. "No.." I say, chuckling nervously. Marlene just stares at Anna's blank expression for a few seconds, just before adding more Scotch to her glass.

"I think my water just broke."

"Y-you are kidding, right?" Marlene asks, breaking the silence for me.

I stifle a dry laugh and simply scoff in response. "If that be the case, you've got a very dry sense of humor." I say flatly.

Anna glares at me in response and stands right up, getting ready to sass me. Instead of that, she doubles over and sits right back down on the couch. Marlene runs right over to Anna to try and help her out. "Fucking hell, do you seriously think I'll be joking around about shit like this?" Anna asks me bitterly.

I raise my palms in surrender, snorting, and respond, "I know it's something Mark would say."

"Melanie!" Marlene snaps at me. The shock is evident both on her face and in her tone of voice. "What is going on with you today!?"

"That's the same question we've all got on our minds right now, Marlene." My smartass attitude is starting to kick in again, and for some reason, it always happens when I'm near a couch.

"Both of you.. Can you please just shut up?" Anna chides weakly.

I whisk right away and walk towards her room. "I'm gonna go check on Logan.." I mutter guiltily. Neither of them stops me from leaving. I walk pretty quickly but I do manage to hear the last thing Marlene says, "You fucking selfish bitch." It's not like I disagree with what she's saying.

I simply brush it off as soon as I arrive at the doorway. Seeing him sleep this peacefully is a surprise to me. Be honest with you, it's my fault for talking to him every night when we're supposed to be sleeping. I swiftly but quietly glide along the floor and sit on his bedside when I get there. I smile when I look at his face. Anna applied of those cotton squares applied on with tape, so it looks hidden underneath his bangs. We'll have to change it soon if it gets too wet or bloody.

He's breathing perfectly normally, almost as if he didn't just get any stitches on his head at all. He looks adorable with his bangs covering his eyes when he's asleep. Now, if you ask me, scars tend to make the features on a person's face more beautiful than they already are; they become their little imperfections.

I take his limp but still warm hand in mine and squeeze it. I start scanning his body for any other injuries as I squeeze his hand. I don't see how taking his undershirt off helps, I mean, I get taking off his grimy uniform for hygiene, but his undershirt too? Oh well; doctor's orders. I'm surprised by the fact that he wakes up and turns to look at me.

"Hey." His smile still melts my heart every time I look at it. "What's going on? You look tense." Logan says to me in concern.

I look away in shame and keep quiet. "How are you holding up?" I ask him, evading the subject of Anna's water breaking. The look I get from Logan in response.. "What's going on?" Logan's tone serious and alert.

"Anna's water just broke." I blurt out.

Logan sits up immediately, wincing as soon as his he lifts his head up straight. "What the fuck!? Why didn't you tell me any sooner?! Mel, where is she?! We have to help her, this is serious!" I purse my lips in response to his outburst.

"Mel." Logan says to me again, gently this time, enunciating his words. "Where is she?"

"She's at the couch, Marlene's with her." I respond blankly. "None of us exactly know how to handle it."

Logan raises his good eyebrow at me. "Melanie. I do." I stare at him, furrowing my brow in thought. Logan snorts and continues, "I've lived in a house with 3 sisters, all of them giving birth in our bathtub. Do you really think I can't handle home births after the same repeated routine?" He's a farm boy..? What kind of shit do we talk about for me to not even know he had 3 sisters?

"It's not that.." I start, my voice fading into the humid air. I really don't like how Anna and Mark maintain their blinds in their room by the window. Barely any light gets in here so it feels dank and dull in here. "Then, what?" Logan asks me, almost as soon as I reply.

"You're recovering. It's as simple as that. I mean, look at you! You just got stitches on your eyebrow!" I argue. A sarcastic laugh is what I get in response to my valid points. I'm just about to continue when we hear Anna swearing the way someone would drink cold water on a hot day and that's enough for me to shut my mouth.

Logan gives me a smug look and simply replies, "You were saying?" I glare at him as soon as the words exit his mouth. "It's only affecting my head. It's not doing anything to my arms or legs, so I can walk just fine." He just throws his legs off of the bed and starts walking towards the door.

"You could at least put a shirt on first." I call out to him. Logan turns and smirks at me, "I thought you like seeing me like this."

I roll my eyes and give him weak smile. "I don't want you flashing yourself at them." I explain, immediately wishing I hadn't said anything. My face becomes hot with embarrassment and I start stammering an explanation to Logan. "I- I didn't mean it that way!" I say, flustered with him and at myself.

Logan roars with laughter and in two strides gets to where I am, enveloping me in a bear hug, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Tell me where my top is, and I'll put it on." Logan whispers to me.

A few moments later..

Her screams of pain fill the apartment as soon as we manage to find the cleanest blanket that we can for her. "OH MY FUCKING GOD! THIS FUCKING HURTS!" Anna wails at us in agony. "Anna, this is childbirth. It's supposed to hurt." Logan says to her calmly.

Anna reaches forward and tries to slap Logan, hard across the face, but her hand just flies by as Logan dodges it like it was nothing. "Dipshit, it's not like you're the one giving birth." Anna snaps at him.

"Think of something you like to get your mind off of the pain, like umm.." I suggest to her while keeping a grip of her right arm. Be honest with you, I'm struggling to come up with anything nice myself.

Anna squints her eyes, struggling to comprehend. Is it that hard to just think of the first nice thing from the top of her head? Oh wait. Marlene snaps her fingers with her free hand, since she's got ahold of Anna's left arm, and suggests, "Helping your patients out. Being nurse." Anna nods her head rapidly in agreement.

"Okay, Anna. I'm gonna need you to push, otherwise, this kid isn't popping out any time soon. Remain calm, the calmer you are, the faster this kid will come out." Logan explains to her in a calm but monotonic voice. Why didn't Logan sign up to be nurse with Anna when we were with the Fireflies? He fits the criteria perfectly.

If I don't end up deaf after today from Anna's screaming, I'm going to pray to God even more than I already am.

The amount of sweat on all of us is ridiculous, but there's even more sweat on Anna. She's gone red in the face and I see little veins popping out at the side of her head. She's been pushing. And pushing. And pushing.

"Anna. Breathe in and out. Calmly push."

10 minutes later..

Anna gave birth to a beautiful baby girl on this day in the year of 2019. Logan did a fantastic job of handling her. Marlene's been labelled the kid's godmother.

I watch Marlene and Anna from her kitchen counter top, Anna holding the baby in her arms, wrapped in a blanket with Marlene staring in wonder at the child's emerald green eyes. I continue with my tape cutting using Anna's scissors from a spare med kit we found lying around. I walk over to Logan, who's sitting on the counter top, with a strand on each of my fingers. As I stick the tape strands on Logan's left eyebrow, I ask him in a whisper, "Did Mark say anything to you regarding a name?"

Logan licks his bottom lip and starts chewing on it for a second. "He gave me a couple of name suggestions for a boy, but he just asked me to tell Anna to not give her a sissy name."

"Define 'sissy name' for me."

"Like, Janice. Or.. Mary. Elizabeth. No fancy names. You know what, I mean."

I know exactly what he means by that. "Elizabeth sounds nice, though.." I mutter to myself.

"It's too posh." Marlene calls out. Anna holds up her left hand, then pointing at me, she asks, "You like the name. So do I. But Marlene's right. How about we shorten it?"

I search the back of my mind for anything I can think of. Possible nicknames for Elizabeth. I rest my arms on the cool marble of the counter top. "Umm.. Beth or Lizzie? Ellie..?" I suggest, my voice fading into the echo of the room. I take a sudden interest in my blue Vans and begin counting the number of shoe-string slots there are on my shoes.

"Ellie."

Logan turns to look at Anna as I lift my head up. "What?" I ask.

"We'll call her Ellie." Anna says to me with a smile.

Oh my God.. This chapter was so rushed it's not even funny..

3 weeks on a 5,000+ word chapter? Crazy old me..

Oh whale. If you guys liked it, let me know what you thought! I'll clarify whatever you need to know with a response to a review or a PM!

Thank you all once again for the views! It makes my day seeing how many people actually wanting to have an interest in my fic (or not.)

Have a great day, lovely readers! I'll update ASAP! :)