Von Drake had announced that the child would be "hatching" soon. Bradford had thought he'd be able to sleep in his own room at HQ until it was time, but he couldn't stop tossing and turning. He was worried that he might miss the moment the duckling would finally leave her tank and meet him formally without a pane of glass separating them.
Finally, after a second night of restlessness, he set himself up on the same chair he left in the lab and watched the child throughout the night. She now looked like a proper newborn duckling as she floated within the vacuum of the container, her eyes indiscriminately opening and closing, her limbs waving and kicking around the space, her behavior soon stopping as she rested for most of the night.
Bradford soon found himself easily falling asleep in his chair until von Drake woke him in the early morning. His back had killed him, and he thought afterwards about how he should've bought a cot before embarking on this venture.
He came back to the lab the next evening after a grueling day of work while watching his phone for any calls. None came, but a small bed did await him in the lab. In actuality, it was never even needed. After a few hours of sitting in his regular chair, his work jacket hanging off its back as he read the evening Wool Street Journal's stock report, Bradford started to hear a tiny clickclack echo around the empty lab.
Bradford quickly looked up to see the child was using her tiny beak to weakly beat the glass as if she were in an egg.
The duckling was hatching. It was time.
Before he could even think of calling von Drake, the blaring sensors went off and the old Professor burst through the doors along with his crew. As they did what they had to, Bradford called Heron down through the wireless. After a half an hour, the two watched as the tank was emptied slowly down, and the small child was gently allowed to glide to the bottom of the tank, still half-asleep and half-fussy, crying out feebly with a gurgle.
Heron watched in malicious glee, rubbing her claws greedily throughout the operation. But Bradford wringed his hands in nervousness, watching for any wrong moves that may happen suddenly.
The tank was finally emptied, and the tiny child let out its first, true cries as von Drake took off all her cords and carried her out for cleaning and testing.
Bradford felt something in him tug as he watched her be taken away, hearing her desperate cries. He yearned to hold her himself, to make sure she was okay. And yet, he only heard Heron chuckling evilly beside him, cackling something about their plans working successfully.
But the older man wanted nothing more than to be near the newborn, to hold the child in his own arms and comfort her cries. He was tired, so, so tired of waiting countless nights for this very moment, but this was all he wanted to do with every fiber of his being.
Finally, von Drake returned to them with the whimpering duckling in hand, a white towel wrapped around the newborn.
"All healthy, as expected! My, aren't you just a pair of proud parents, I'd say," he chuckled darkly. "Either way, congrats on your new baby daughter."
He handed the girl to Bradford, who shakily took her in his arms, holding her in the crook of his arm as another hand held her small head, as the book had instructed him to do. He looked into the child's peaceful, resting face, and he felt his heart unclench and open, all his worries and fears washing away.
"A girl…" he breathed, a dry sob stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow it down unsuccessfully. He sniffed audibly, and he felt tears sting his eyes. This time, he allowed them to flow freely. "A beautiful little girl."
He held the child close to his chest, closed his eyes, and lightly nuzzled the child's cheek with the curve of his large beak. Such a soft, downy coat she had.
She was perfect. She was his. They were finally together after so long. It eased him to feel her near him, to touch her for the first time. Now he could say, to his absolute relief, that everything was going according to plan.
Von Drake looked at the scene with a smug look as Heron, now no longer looking gleeful, could only stare in disapproval at Bradford's show of emotion. Bradford didn't care as his eyes were only for the newborn, lovingly stroking the child's soft head as she buried her face deeper into his now stained business shirt.
Heron hummed skeptically at them, as von Drake asked, "Have you both decided on a name?"
Bradford nodded joyfully. "April," he smiled broadly with pride. "I always liked that name. Her name will be April."
He rested his forehead on April's and closed his eyes, savoring the still moment. Heron sighed in resignation and groaned. "If this what I have to deal with for the next several years…oh, kill me."