Hello again! I'm back again with another one-shot for Rain, and I'm so sorry about not updating much! My internet's a bitch.

CHAPTER 4

I walk along the streets with Connor, careful where I step. Which is hard to do, as I haven't seen my feet for some time now. Our child has grown a lot in the past eight months, and as the birth draws closer, I grow more excited.

Captain Faulkner said there were some pirates that had been terrorizing Philadelphia, so Connor will go while I'll stay behind. Connor didn't want to go, because of the child, but the mission shouldn't take much more than a week at most. We arrive at the docks.

"There is still time. If you want me to stay, only say the word." Connor says to me seriously.

"Connor, go." I laugh. "The child and I have agreed that nothing major will happen while you're gone."

Connor raises his eyebrow at me, but draws me in for a gentle kiss, one hand on my belly.

"I will miss you." He says.

"I'll miss you, too." I reply.

Connor crouches down and kisses my belly, making me giggle. He stands up, hugs me gently one last time, and walks towards the Aquila.

~!~

I sit on the grass, a sketching pad in one hand, a piece of charcoal in the other. I sketch the bay.

I've found drawing a good pastime; even if I'm not very good at it. The hidden basement has an entire room now dedicated to my drawings, all of them the bay, the trees, the flowers. I tried to draw Connor once, but it ended up a laughingstock.

I look up at the bay again, holding the paper up to compare the two. I'm quite pleased with how this one turned out, actually. I hear a shout from behind me.

"Clara!" A woman calls. I recognise her as Myriam.

I stand up and turn around to face the woman, and she walks towards me holding up a fox.

"Thank you!" I exclaim as we get closer to each other. Myriam has been hunting for me ever since Connor left, and sometimes she stays for dinner.

The past week has been quite enjoyable. I've missed Connor, but it's been very peaceful at the homestead. And my drawings have become better.

Myriam and I walk inside the house, chatting about nothing. We prepare dinner, and tonight Myriam stays. After dinner, Myriam pulls something out of her game bag.

"I made this for the child." She says, pulling out a fur blanket.

It's beautiful. It's like a quilt of fox, rabbit, and other skins. It should be very warm. I take it from her hands, feeling the soft fur.

"Thank you, Myriam. It's beautiful." I say, beaming.

"I'm glad you like it." Myriam replies.

"Of course I like it!" I exclaim.

Myriam leaves, and I walk upstairs, into the baby's room. Connor and I have set everything up for when the baby arrives; a crib, table. Various decorations, made by Connor, hang around the room, including a dream catcher, also made by Connor. It dangles above the baby's crib. I place the fur blanket inside the crib, sighing. I want Connor to come home now, so that the baby can be born. I will not have the child without him.

At least, that's what I tell myself; it's not as though I have much choice in the matter.

That night, I sleep well.

~!~

I walk through Boston once again. My heart drums quickly at the thought of seeing Connor again. I reach the docks as quickly as I can, eager to see Connor. The Aquila has docked at the port, but I can't see Connor anywhere. I search for a while, but suddenly something happens to my vision.

The world goes grey, as though an incredibly thick cover of cloud has invaded the skies. The people are mostly coloured a lighter shade of grey, except for the guards, who glow a bright red. The sailors aboard the Aquila glow blue, and then I see a figure who glows bright gold. Even in this odd vision, I know who it is.

Connor.

I broad smile splits my face, but my emotions are distracted. This strange new vision makes me feel uneasy, and I know something's wrong. My stomach tightens.

Connor sees me, and he smiles, disembarking the Aquila. As he gets closer, he sees the worried expression on my face, and the smile fades, replaced with concern. Suddenly, I recognize what this is.

Connor has often told me of his ability, his other vision. Suddenly my vision returns to normal, just as Connor reaches us.

"Clara? Is everything alright?" He asks worriedly.

"Yes, yes, everything's fi-"

I am cut off by a sudden sensation. I know what this is.

"Clara?" Connor asks, now alarmed.

"It's happening." I gasp as the other vision flickers, as though it and my normal vision are fighting for control.

Connor's expression turns worried, and my brow creases like an old man's. Because this shouldn't be happening now. It can't. It's too soon. The child isn't supposed to be born until next month, according to Doctor White. But it appears the child is too impatient to see the world.

Another contraction wracks my body.

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