THE BIRTH

The contractions progressed to two minutes apart very quickly. Hannibal spent most of the time at Clarice's side with he and Lora alternating in order to check the status of the baby.

Clarice was alternating between calm and banshee, depending on whether or not she was having a contraction.

"How are you feeling, Clarice?" he made the mistake of asking a moment before the contraction had fully passed.

Clarice gripped his belt buckle and tugged hard, almost pulling his trousers down in the process. She growled, "I don't know, H…I've…never passed…a basketball… before."

Hannibal pried her hands from his belt and kissed them.

"I wish I could lift the burden, Clarice, but the child cannot dwell within you forever."

The pain beginning to ebb, Clarice drew in a deep breath and forced, "Fuck you, H…"

Seeing from the monitor that the contraction was ending, Hannibal teased,"Yes, please."

This caused Clarice to immediately slap his arm."Don't be such a wise ass, H."

Hannibal, having experience with distressed mothers, was unaffected by her anger. Her pain was another thing entirely. He and Lora had both attempted to talk her into medication but she had been adamant. She would do nothing that might harm her baby.

Hannibal would do his best for her, but in this she would suffer and the thought of this harmed him; he was surprised at how much. As he attended his wife, he monitored how dramatically her cries were affecting his physiology. With each whimper, each whisper of a gasp, his heart would pound and his muscles tighten. His chest wall, a timpani, his heartbeat the mallets pounding, rolling out the rhythm of her misery. He considered the impact it was having on his body as he assessed her progress.

"You are fully dilated…the birth is upon us, Clarice."

His son would arrive this day. Hannibal Lecter, for once in his life, could not control his body's response. He attempted to slow his heartbeat, to no avail. He slowed his breathing slightly, his respirations fast and shallow.

All this from your voice…all from the sound of your cries…your pain is my pain…you are too much with me, my Love…

Placing cool compresses on her forehead, he attempted to ease her suffering and by extension, his own anguish as well.

You are a warrior…my brave Clarice. How willing you are to sacrifice for a child you have yet to see. If it is in my power, I shall keep your sacrifices to a minimum…

During the times between the contractions, Hannibal doted on his wife, massaging her arms and legs, feeding her ice chips and speaking to her quietly about his plans for their future. When the contractions began, he would move to his place as her physician, leaving Lora to lend support.

After a particularly difficult contraction, Hannibal left the room for a moment to fetch more ice chips. Lora sat beside Clarice holding her hand to keep her company, talking quietly to keep her mind busy. Since Clarice loved Hannibal, Lora figured he would be a good topic to distract her.

"He's a heck of a guy, your husband. I'm surprised he's so attentive."

Clarice brightened, as she always did when talking about her husband.

"He always puts my needs above his. I'm really lucky. I tell him all the time he'd better live forever, because he's ruined me for other men."

Glad that Clarice was willing to share, Lora did as well, "You're really lucky. My husband was a good man but it was all about what I could do for him. Even in bed, when he was done, we were done. Though you won't be thinking about that for a while."

"Are you kidding me? With H…I'll be lucky if my stitches heal…if I have any stitches."

Lora laughed, "Well, I'm certain he'll be sure it's medically safe. Like I said, you're a lucky lady!"

Hannibal entered the room with ice chips for Clarice and a glass of iced tea for Lora.

"Thank you, Hannibal. How thoughtful," Lora expressed with gratitude as she sipped the tea.

The moment Hannibal ladled an ice chip into Clarice's mouth another contraction kicked in. She gripped his arm and pulled him to her.

"Oh, God…H…when will this…be over…"

"I have you, Clarice…it won't be much longer. You are very close."

Lora checked the monitor gauging the baby's vital signs. Hannibal watched her closely, sensed her unease and as such, was not surprised by her next comment.

Her eyes were focused, alert as she spoke calmly, "Doctor, we've got a problem."

Hannibal's countenance remained unchanged, though his stomach turned.

"Problem? Elaborate."

Lora double-checked the fetal monitors and, upon confirming, spoke in a very professional tone so as not to frighten Clarice, "The baby…bradycardia."

Realizing his son was in distress, Hannibal's heart sank.

Focus…it need not be terminal…it is merely a symptom of a problem. Identify and solve the problem.

"Please closely monitor. I need to know whether or not the bradycardia is exclusive to the contractions or if it continues at rest."

Clarice held her husband, her breathing heavy as the contraction began to slow.

Though she spoke only his name, her fear was evident, "H?"

Still holding his wife Hannibal smoothed his hand over her belly as if to comfort, not only his wife, but the child struggling within. He made certain to keep his tone gentle and free of the stress that was pulsing through every inch of his body.

"The baby is in a bit of distress, Clarice."

Attempting to sit up, though the position of her feet in the stirrups made it impossible, she turned into Hannibal's embrace. With her face buried against his chest she pulled at his shoulders, imploring, "A bit? What's a bit of distress? What's going on? What kind of distress? H…you're scaring me."

Her lamenting tone opened his heart as if a knife had been driven within causing the worried husband to pull her close that the contact might seal the lesion. He reassured his wife, though he could not reassure himself.

"There is no need to be frightened, I have faced this type of situation before. If he continues to struggle and I am unable to deliver the baby safely vaginally, I can perform a C-section."

Clarice urged, "I don't want a C-section, H…I want to deliver the baby normally."

Hannibal reassured his obviously anxious wife, his arms around her, his hands still cradling her belly. He whispered very softly, "There is nothing abnormal about a C-section. It is a safe procedure and I am well equipped. I have done this before, Clarice. Please…trust that I would not endanger you or our child."

"I know, H…I'm just scared…"

Hannibal kissed his wife, "There is no need, Clarice…no need. I would die before I would allow harm to come to you. You will soon meet your son."

Hannibal turned to Lora.

"Status?"

Lora read the monitor and evaluated the condition of the fetus. There was momentary relief as she spoke, "The heart beat is strong and steady. It seems as if the stress occurs during the contractions."

Hannibal's eyes shifted slightly as he searched his memory for a diagnosis. When he settled on his verdict, he declared, "Dystocia. Anterior shoulder likely."

Lora nodded, "I agree. Do you think you can manipulate the baby and change the position?"

As he considered his experience he was confident, "With some downward traction…yes, I am fairly certain."

Hannibal moved away from Clarice and into his position as her physician. She reached for him, her hand barely brushing his back. He noticed the slight contact but did not turn toward it.

I must focus, Clarice…I must concentrate…I cannot allow your worry to cloud my mind.

Clarice watched her husband, attempting to read his emotions. He was a blank slate, concerning her even more.

He's hiding his concern…what if this is bad…it sounds bad…

Making no effort to mask her own fears, Clarice demanded, "H…what's going on? Don't talk around me like this doesn't concern me. You're scaring the living crap out of me right now!"

Looking up from between the stirrups, Hannibal spoke dispassionately, "Clarice, you know me better than that. I am concerned the baby's anterior shoulder may be having difficulty passing through your pelvis. Your pubic bone seems to have interrupted the process. If that is the case, I will attempt to maneuver the shoulders by applying some downward pressure. With very careful manipulation, I may be able to avoid performing a Caesarian."

"How long will you wait if you are unable to pull the shoulder free?" Lora inquired, obviously concerned.

Hannibal sat, unmoving as he held the life of his child in his proverbial, and soon to be literal hands.

He ran through a series of contingencies and considered the pros and cons to each, based on his knowledge and wealth of experience. Hannibal hoped for a worry free delivery, but that was no longer an option. He was concerned too, that his wife was an older mother and that presented risks as well. He weighed, in his mind, what he would do if forced to choose between the woman he loved and the child that had come to mean the world to him. She would chose the child…he would not leave that decision to her.

Clarice….

Focusing on Lora's question instead of the flood of uncertainties plaguing him now, he stated, "Not long…one…two more contractions. I can't chance more than that."

Needing to know what equipment would be needed she surveyed, "Ventouse?"

"If necessary. I actually prefer forceps. I've had more experience and honestly I think the chignon effect might disturb Clarice." Hannibal turned to his wife and explained quickly before she angered.

"The ventouse is a suction device whereas a cup is attached to the top of the baby's head and he is essentially vacuumed from your body. I would prefer to use the forceps if I must, as I have a better feel for them but I would only use them if I cannot manually remove the child."

Hannibal began to assess her body for the eventuality of an episiotomy.

Clarice was desperate for information, any and all information. Feeling a tugging in the area she didn't want to be tugged, she half-pulled her upper body in an upright position in an effort to see her husband. He was testing the flexibility of her perineum.

"Hey, Stud…what the hell are you doing?" she asked as she shifted uncomfortably against his touch.

Hannibal continued to probe the area as he spoke, "I am currently assessing the ability of your perineum to stretch. I must gauge the need for a moderate or generous episiotomy. I do not want you to suffer a tear."

"Okay…Whatever. What's the chignon effect?"

"The suction cup pulls the baby's head and forms a mark and a slight deformation. The effects are temporary but the effect is quite distinctive."

Before Clarice could respond, a contraction took hold. Though she was clearly in distress, Hannibal began to palpate her abdomen.

Hannibal was touching Clarice and attending to her, but as he began to speak it became obvious his statements were clearly meant for Lora, though his eyes stayed on his wife.

"I believe I can turn the child with my hands. There are a variety of techniques we can employ. Lora, are you familiar with the McRoberts maneuver?"

Lora was confident in her response. "Yes, I am. Are you going to attempt to deliver the baby by hand? No forceps or ventouse?"

Hannibal turned to Lora and nodded, "Yes, I believe I can. Are you in agreement?"

Lora considered the option and questioned, "What about fundal pressure?"

Hannibal shook his head, "No, not alone anyway…perhaps in conjunction with another technique. Alone it would do more harm than good."

Lora understood that the decision must remain with the doctor. She would lend him confidence in her ability to assist, regardless of his choice, but he alone must choose.

If anything happens to that baby…he's got to choose. He has to be secure in his assessment and his resolution.

"I know the McRoberts so there's no worry there and I've assisted on C-sections, forceps and ventouse deliveries. I'll follow your lead regardless. He's your baby…it's your decision."

Frustrated with the lack of information or more directly, frustrated that she was being fully left out of the process, Clarice asserted herself.

"H! What the fuck is going on!"

Hannibal explained quickly. "Clarice, Lora is going to help you by pressing your thighs against your abdomen."

"H…that's going to suck…big time. How the fuck precisely is that going to help?"

Explaining the alternative, Hannibal stressed, "It will suck much less than a C-section or having forceps grind within your pelvis, I assure you."

Knowing the contraction was bad enough, and the so-called maneuver would be more than uncomfortable, Clarice fretted, "Okay, what's that supposed to do beside make me look ridiculous and feel like shit?"

Hannibal began to feel her "For one, it will straighten the axis of the birth canal and allow the shoulder a bit more room."

"You said for one…what's two?"

"It will apply suprapubic pressure. This will force the baby's shoulder downward, hopefully free of the pubic bone."

"Hopefully?" As the question left her lips, a contraction forced Clarice to bear down. The urge to push became almost unbearable.

Hannibal, reading his wife's body language, wanted to take advantage of the contraction and move the birth forward. The baby needed to be born soon, or he might not survive. Hannibal turned from that thought.

"Now Lora!"

Lora bent Clarice's knees and pressed her thighs back toward her body, forcing them against her abdomen. She held them in that position, trying to ignore the pain and discomfort she understood she was imparting.

The pain and pressure more than she could take, Clarice cried out in pain.

"Oh, God…H! Oh, God…"

Hannibal's heart clenched, hearing her agony. He forced his mind from it.

"I am here, Clarice…you are safe. It is painful, but you are safe."

In obvious agony, Clarice panted as she snarled, "Safe? Fuck… you… H…you're…never…coming near…me again…get this…baby…out…of me!"

"That is my intention."

Hannibal, hands gloved, reached for a needle and administered a local anesthetic.

Feeling the pinch, Clarice barked, "What the…hell was…that, H? I…said no…drugs!"

"It is merely a local anesthetic, Clarice. I am about to use a surgical scissor for the episiotomy. I don't wish to cut into your flesh without a painkiller. Forgive me, but from this point forward I am proceeding as I see fit. If this child is not born very soon the results will be catastrophic and I am not prepared to face the rest of my life without you or this child. If you have any complaints…save them."

Clarice huffed her statement, the pain and the awkward position of her body making conversation not only exhausting but practically impossible.

"Save…my complaints…Screw you…Save…our…baby, H!"

If it is in my power…

Hannibal probed the flesh with the needle gently.

"Can you feel anything?"

"Like what?"

"I have my answer, thank you."

He reached for the scissors and cut into his wife's flesh.

Hannibal then waited for the next contraction, slipping his hands within his wife enough to grip the baby's head.

"Here you are, Devyni. You'll be in your mother's arms in a moment."

The second Clarice began to scream, bearing down hard, Hannibal urged, "Push, Clarice. Push hard. I'll only give you one chance at this. It is far too stressful for the child."

Clarice began to bear down, the grunting as she pushed.

"Jesus…H…H…"

Hannibal could feel the thready pulse in his son's neck as he pulled gently.

Hang on, Little One…be strong…for your mother…be strong.

Hannibal urged his wife, his voice strong and steady.

"Stay with me, Clarice, the baby is crowning."

The child's head began to push forward, the dark brown hair visible. Hannibal's heart began to pound as his son's head released from Clarice. Hannibal's heart flooded with warmth at the sight of his son's face.

"Clarice…He's beautiful, my Love."

Hannibal, one hand within his wife, he felt the baby's body to discern the position of the shoulders and arms. He spoke with confidence. "Clarice, I can deliver the posterior arm if you push once more."

Clarice pushed and as her muscles forced the child forward, Hannibal reached inside and felt for the baby's upper arm. He followed the arm down, past the bend of the tiny elbow to the wrist. Grasping gently he guided the arm across the width of the baby's tiny chest past the pubic bone.

"Clarice the head and arm are delivered. On your next push, I'm going to turn the baby very gently, almost like a light bulb. Push as hard as you can and you will soon hold your son. Are you ready, my Love? Can you do this?"

"Yeah…yes…I'm…ready…"

Hannibal prepared for his task, knowing the slightest misstep, and the child would be gravely injured, if it lived at all. Hannibal Lecter breathed deeply and exhaled all his anxiety as he counseled, "Push, Clarice."

Teeth gritting and eyebrows forced together Clarice gathered every ounce of strength left to purge the child.

Hannibal, intent on his task, he reached within his wife and with one hand on the anterior and one hand on the posterior shoulder he turned the baby counter-clockwise.

Please Little One…your mother needs you…slide just a bit more. Come, Devyni…

The posterior shoulder delivered first.

"Lora, status."

Checking the monitor she shook her head.

"I wouldn't go another contraction…he stops breathing with the contractions…the heart rate is too low."

"Yes…I can feel it."

Clarice began to cry…"H…H…save the baby…save the baby…"

Hannibal's eyes heated.

"Clarice, please…I'm doing everything I can…please, don't."

Hearing her soft sobs as she struggled to deliver their child, Hannibal choked back his own tears.

"Push, Clarice…Push."

As Clarice's body began to bear down, Hannibal continued to turn his son another full three hundred-sixty degrees. As the baby's face passed Hannibal once more the child opened his eyes, meeting his father's gaze.

Hannibal Lecter looked into the eyes of his child, the color as clear blue as the sky, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

The baby's eyes rolled as the compression of the contraction forced the oxygen from his little body.

Hold on…hold on…don't go…don't go…please Little One…Sforza…strength…strength…

Choking on his own panic, Hannibal applied downward traction.

Finally, the anterior shoulder followed.

"I have him, my Love…push…push…"

Clarice screamed aloud as she gave birth…gave life to their child. Hannibal pulled his son from his wife, umbilical cord still connecting within.

He held the baby for a moment.

Breathe, Devyni…breathe…

Suddenly the child gasped, and began to cry. Hannibal kissed the baby's head and beaming with pride, placed him on his wife's chest.

"Meet your son, my Love."

"He's our son, H. Our son."

Hannibal reached his arms around his wife and embraced his family.

"I love you, H…he's perfect…"

"I love you as well."

Hannibal hugged his family, nuzzling his nose along his wife's neck, hiding his face.

She held him close, as her husband's tears poured onto her flesh.

Hannibal simply whispered, "Thank you, Clarice…thank you."

Until the next chapter, my friends!

LH