That was the last thing I had to do with the Kira investigation. From that point forward, I kept my head down and directed all my energy towards settling down in preparation for this new chapter in my life. Busy as I was with housing renovations and doctor's appointments, the months that followed flew by. It was as if I blinked and suddenly I was living in a fully furnished apartment with a new car and my stomach was the size of a house.
The pusher that he was, Jason made sure to remind me daily that he could help me find another career.
'You could be a freelance PI!' he'd tell me. 'Or I'm sure the CIA or FBI would be eager to have you. With your set of references, you could skip all of the rookie bullshit and aim straight for the top.'
I was grateful - if not a little annoyed - at his insistence but, for now, I just wanted to focus on being a mom. And, in any case, money wasn't really a concern anymore. Chris' inheritance was enough to keep me comfortable for a good few years without a job, and the money L had left me was enough to ensure I could live like a king for three lifetimes. I didn't want an exorbitant lifestyle - didn't feel like I'd earned it - so most of it went in a trust fund for his growing son or daughter.
It felt weird to be settled in a place of my own. I'd never imagined myself living anything but a purely nomadic life. Again, it stung that I was living the life Chris had always wanted - in his apartment, no less. But it was also comforting in a way. It helped me feel close to him. Rebuilding this home made me feel like I was honouring him in a way. I hoped he was proud of me, wherever he was.
Blossoming into motherhood was not nearly as joyful as others implied. Although it was exciting to watch my child grow with every passing week, the pregnancy itself sucked - for lack of a better term. That so called 'maternal glow' that so many mothers raged about seemed to have evaded me and I got stuck with an oily, greasy sheen instead. It didn't help that I had thrown myself into doing the renovations myself, so the end of every day saw me coated in sweat, paint, or a combination of both.
For the first two trimesters, my favourite foods made me outrageously sick, and what I could manage to eat came right back up. Then, for the last couple of months, I was stuck craving a very specific type of dim sum from a takeout place across the city. Over the span of eight weeks, I asked Jason a total of twenty-three times to drive there to get me some (after which, he practically dragged me into a dealership to buy myself my own car).
The symptoms settled down in my eighth month and everything seemed to be going according to plan as I prepped myself to give birth. The nesting stage, as Jason called it. Everything was in order. The renovations were done, the nursery was assembled, and I was (somewhat) ready to become a mother.
In June of 2008, as I approached my thirty-ninth week, I went into labour.
That day began as ordinarily as any other. I woke up, waddled around, devoured my weight in food, and tried to come to an agreement with the freeloader (terrorist) living in my gut. I did feel some pain - but what else was new? I'd been having so much pain those last few weeks that I forgotten what being comfortable felt like.
It wasn't until I tried to sleep that I started to suspect this was something more than just the usual discomfort. Hours after I'd turned my lights out, I was still awake as the pains persisted and the deep frustration I felt had me screaming into a pillow.
"Well, you definitely have your father's sleeping habits, don't you?" I said aloud, glaring down at my stomach.
Outside, the rain was coming down heavy, hammering against the window panes. The weather guy had warned we'd be experiencing heavy winds and rain as a hurricane skirted along the East coast, but this was more than anyone expected. Having been flung too far from sleep to even consider trying to nod off again, I hauled myself out of bed and slumped towards the window, looking out onto the Hudson and the glittering lights of buildings across the river. Judging from the way the river's waters splashed against the banking, the winds were as aggressive as the rain. Even as high up as I was, I could hear it howling.
Another wave of pain slammed into me as I stood there and I clutched my bump with a wince and a wheeze.
"Jesus, what's your problem?" I asked, jabbing my stomach with a finger, only to receive a harsh kick in reply. "You've got it cushy in there, y'know. Just wait until you get out. You won't like it, I promise."
Once more, I was answered with an indignant kick that knocked the breath right out of my lungs. Yeah, this little shit was very clearly my kid.
"You've got a good kick, kiddo," I joked, rubbing my sore side. "At least I know you inherited something from me."
In the next beat, my amusement morphed into confusion and then red-hot shame when I felt a wet sensation between my legs. The initial panic of oh my God, did I just wet myself was quickly replaced by mild horror as I realised those were my waters splattered across the floor. With horror in my eyes, I reached to the phone in my pocket and pressed the first number on speed dial.
One ring. Two rings. Oh, pick up, you bastard.
At last, the call connected and I was met with annoyance from the get go.
"Look, I know I said you could call whenever, but it's four in the morning, Agent. If you're asking me to buy you some food, I swear—"
"It's actually one in the morning," I corrected, "and I'm having contractions."
"Oh shit," he breathed, suddenly sounding much more awake. "You're sure?"
"Well, let's see. There's water all over my floor and I feel like I'm dying, so I'm just gonna go ahead and say yeah."
A cacophony of scuffles and bangs ensued and I smothered a laugh, imagining Jason flinging himself around a dark room trying to find his car keys.
"How far apart are they?" he asked over the background noise, and I checked the clock on my phone.
"Uh, I think every six minutes - give or take."
Before Jason had the chance to give his commentary on my lack of preparation and poor timing, another contraction hit - this one being harsh enough to make me cry out.
"Look, we don't have time for Twenty Questions. Can you just get here please?!"
"I'm on my way. Sit tight."
It wasn't for another forty minutes that my knight in shining armour arrived at my door. I'd been pacing back and forth in my kitchen and practicing the breath-work I'd been schooled on earlier in my pregnancy when he barged through the door, a look of nervous excitement on his face. At least one of us was looking forward for this. I, for one, just felt agitated.
"What took you so long?" I snapped, bending down in an attempt to put on some shoes.
"What, you haven't heard the rain?" he huffed as he shoved my shoes on for me, grabbing my hospital bag and ushering me out of the door. "Leave it to you to go into labour at four o'clock in the middle of a hurricane."
"It's one o'clock," I repeated, "and I am so sorry I roused you from your beauty sleep when you so clearly need it."
The man shot me a nasty look, which temporarily distracted me from the pressure building in my pelvis. I almost laughed but, damn, it hurt to even breathe.
One hand on the wheel and one holding mine, Jason squeezed my palm and guided me through each breath. My contractions had doubled in intensity to the point that I couldn't do more than groan and huff as I rode through wave after wave of pain.
At some point into our journey, we encountered some congestion, red taillights stretching for miles ahead. Knowing this surpassed the level of normal traffic, especially considering the early hour, we switched on the radio just in time to hear the host describe severe flooding in Brooklyn and the surrounding areas. Road closures, burst sewers. It had been like this for several hours and the worsening weather had forced the city into a standstill. What was an inconvenience for everyone else felt like the apocalypse for me.
"This is typical," Jason sneered, eyes scanning the unmoving traffic, honking his horn for good measure.
I panted in the passenger seat and tried not to let the man's stress levels infect me. "What are they supposed to do, Jace? Wave their magic wands and make the floodwater go away?"
"I don't care what they do so long as I can get you to a doctor."
"Well, it's not looking like I'll be seeing one anytime soon, so why bother getting angry?" I chastised him, leaning back in my seat, already exhausted - and the hard part hadn't even started yet.
As I sat there, massaging the sore muscles in my abdomen, a crazy but brilliant idea came to mind. The more I thought about it, the more I acknowledged that L must have rubbed off on me at some point during our affair. Either way, this plan was so stupid that I was convinced he'd sent it to me from beyond the grave.
"Hey, you have some med students at St Mary's right?" I asked, and Jason frowned at the weird question.
"Yeah, so?"
"Take me there and let them help me."
At that, the man snorted. "Oh, yeah, great idea. Might as well let them have a go at brain surgery while you're there since clearly you've lost yours."
Although I acknowledged my plan was mental, I didn't humour his mockery, just sent him a firm look.
"Look, I know it's a risk but it's better than sitting and waiting for nothing. We could be stuck in this for hours - and, even then, we don't know the conditions of the roads or if they'll even have a room for me at the hospital. I'd rather deliver my kid in a warm, safe place with people who have some idea of what they're doing than give birth in your car."
"No way. We'll just wait it out. Keep your legs pressed together," he snapped and I, in too much pain to argue with his stubbornness, decided to play dirty.
"This is a new Audi, isn't it? The leather on the seats are such high quality," I sighed, running my hand across the plush material of the seat. Jason cast a sideward glance my way, narrowing his eyes as if daring me to continue.
"Childbirth is messy, y'know? All those bodily fluids. Be a real shame if I ruined it."
I watched, smugly satisfied, as his face crumbled and he slowly creeped into the opposite lane, headed in the direction of Staten Island. By the time we pulled up to the doorstep of St Mary's, I was no longer cracking jokes and focused solely on breathing through the pain. Jason helped me to shuffle inside and got me comfy on the couch before disappearing elsewhere in the house. As though knowing I was now in a safe environment, my body relaxed which, in turn, only accelerated the rate at which my labour was progressing. Very soon, I was crouched on my hands and knees like a goblin, trying not to hyperventilate.
My director reappeared minutes later with two of the older students in tow, both still dressed in their pyjamas. I recognised them vaguely as Riza - young biology whiz brought over from Cuba - and Joel - a shy but brilliant guy from Atlanta (who, frankly, I did not want looking at my lady parts).
Beggars can't be choosers, I reminded myself.
Upon seeing me sprawled across the couch like a beached whale, Joel stumbled back in shock.
"Oh, crap. You weren't kidding."
"Desperate times, desperate measures. We can't get anywhere because of the storm," Jason said offhandedly before learning down to offer me his hands. "Right, come on, missy. Let's get you into a bedroom."
"No, it's too close to the dorms," I protested through gritted teeth. "I don't want to disturb the kids."
"We can set up camp in the rec room," Riza offered. "Probably more space in there anyway."
"Closer to the kitchen too," Joel added, and the other girl nodded.
"Why does that matter?" I asked, and the kid rolled his eyes.
"To make sure you're well seasoned before we cook you," the boy said with a smarmy grin before hitting me with a deadpan. "To have access to hot water, dumbass!"
I raised my hands in the air. "Okay, sorry! It's not like I've ever delivered a kid before."
Joel laughed humourlessly. "Yeah, well, neither have we. We're all in the same boat."
Although that statement didn't exactly fill me with confidence, I reminded myself that I'd asked for this and, frankly, it was still my best option right now. At least I was warm and dry and in somewhat capable hands.
The next few hours progressed at a painfully slow pace. With the absence of any strong painkillers, I felt every single second of my contractions, so getting any sleep was off the table. Five hours later, the sun was ready to rise and I was begging for it to be over.
Panting through yet another contraction, I flopped back against the couch, absolutely done in by my efforts. Riza was busy checking the progress of my dilation and Jason - ever the diligent dad figure- knelt on the floor at my side, letting me use him as a stress ball.
"Kill me?" I whined, staring up at him through bloodshot eyes.
"I'm considering it," he answered with a grimace as I clamped down on his hand. "How bad is the pain now?"
"Oh, it feels like Heaven," I drawled spitefully. "It's like I'm at a spa. What the fuck do you think?"
"Right, that's ten centimetres!" Riza announced excitedly as she stood up from my legs, and I audibly thanked the God I didn't believe in. "Now the fun part starts."
Spoiler alert: it wasn't fun.
If I thought the contractions were bad, I had something coming. By the time I started pushing, my whole body was spiked with agony. My legs were bent and pressed against my chest, seizing up as my muscles went into spasm; my hands clawed and pulled at the sheets until the seams began to tear with the force. The muscles in my chest felt like they were going to explode and, frankly, so did the rest of my body. By this point, I was crying. Full-on, ugly sobbing, with my face scrunched up like a raisin and fat tears streaming down my cheeks. My ever dutiful director stood beside me, patting a wet cloth against my forehead as sweat trickled down my face.
I knew childbirth was painful. Obviously. No shit. But this was like medieval torture. It was as though I'd been made to bench press a bus, and then told to do a marathon straight after... oh, yeah, and a *xenomorph was trying to escape me via a very small tunnel. It was excruciating. I was no longer surprised that my mother had abandoned me.
Riza was keeping track of everything down below whilst Joel stood by my head to watch my vitals. Both students were doing good all things considered. If I'd been in a more conscious state, I'd have probably praised them for staying so calm. But I wasn't. I was beyond exhaustion, teetering on the edge of consciousness but the agony forced me to endure. My whole body shuddered with each forceful exertion and there was an aggressive pounding inside my head. The skin on my knuckles stretched painfully, nails digging into my palm with each forceful push. For a brief moment of lucidity, I was amazed that my body was even capable of doing such a thing.
Through it all, I tried to visualise a kinder image - one of my tiny, healthy baby - in my mind's eye, but with every contraction, I was dragged back down to the fiery pits of Hell and Satan was standing there, waiting for me with a smile.
"I can't do this any more," I managed to whisper, voice dying in my throat, and Jason rubbed my back tenderly.
"You can, kiddo. You're almost done."
"Her BP is low..." I heard Riza mumble. "Is that ambulance still on its way, Jace?"
"The whole area is gridlocked," the older man replied, the concern on his face as clear as day despite his efforts to conceal it for my sake. "It could still be another half hour."
The girl sighed, steeling her nerves as she looked back at me, eyes narrowed with an undaunted glare. She looked like a general readying to lead his soldiers into battle, and her brave look fuelled me with determination.
"Right, we need this baby out now. Agent, honey, I know you're exhausted but I need you to stay awake, okay? I need you to push for me."
Delirious as I was from the pain, I still understood the urgency of the situation. There was no apparatus here for a surgery, nor any drugs to put me under so this baby had to come quickly and they had to come now. There was no other option but to get them out myself.
So, strengthening my resolve, I bore down, releasing a long and tortured howl as I felt myself tear open. It was a different kind of pain to anything I'd ever experienced and it only heightened from there. The burn - Christ, the burn - seemed to seep into every cell until my entire body felt like it was on fire. I wanted nothing more than for my baby to be safe but I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.
As I wrestled through another hard push, the pounding in my head reached a crescendo, causing me to screw my eyes shut tightly and pray that I wouldn't black out. When they reopened, I saw the world around me start to spin. My body felt woozy - like I was drunk or swimming, or maybe both at the same time. Everything became a little fuzzy. Noises grew muffled. Lights and colours swirled around me, vibrant and pulsing, as I battled to stay conscious. Riza's face turned place and I soon realised why. Glancing down, I saw splatters of blood between my legs and wondered if this was how I'd die.
In my agonised state, I considered if death would be a mercy. The pain I was enduring would come to an end. I'd feel nothing, blissed out and numb. Relief. Not only that, but the weight of the guilt from my crimes, the mental aguish that had been crushing me for all these years... all of that would disappear. Along with the memory of me. My thoughts, my ideas. All of it. The only essence of myself to remain would be my child. And if I had to sacrifice myself for them, then so be it.
For the briefest of moments, I swore I saw L standing beside me. Like a flickering shadow on an old film tape. Again, despite my encounter with magic death books and shinigami, I was still against calling myself spiritual. I didn't believe in ghosts or spirits. But, in those few seconds, it really felt like he was there with me - like I could reach out and touch him. His presence, hallucination or not, instilled me with the strength I'd been lacking. Not physical, no, but rather the confidence in my self to carry on. I'd worried for so long that life as a single mother would work out for me, that I couldn't do it on my own. But I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. I'd survived years of poverty and desolation on the streets. I'd come from nothing but built a name for myself from the ground up. I'd had guns in my face, knives at my back, and escaped a killer who only needed a name. Strong was an understatement. I was fucking formidable.
The pain I felt could be my penance but I'd be damned if I let it kill me. I had a duty to this kid to do whatever I could to protect it - and that meant staying alive.
Through my tears, I smiled softly at the vision of L stood before me - a thank you for everything he'd done, and this beautiful life he'd given me.
"Attagirl! That's the head!" Riza called to me. "Just a bit more now. The shoulders are the worst part but it's all downhill from there... yeah, come on. That's it! One more!"
Knowing my child was so close to being born (and knowing the pain would stop) was more than a big enough motivator for me to bear down and overcome the final hurdle. With one last push, it was done and the relief that followed was instantaneous. The pressure lapsed, the pain disappeared, and my body slumped against the couch like a puppet with cut strings. Exhausted, I shut my eyes, the urge to sleep stronger than ever. Or at least, that was until I heard a distant wail and reality slammed into me at full force.
"Congrats, mama!" Riza cried happily. "You have a beautiful baby girl."
"It's a girl?" I echoed in a whisper, eyes widening as I shot upright, still dizzy from the extortion.
Jason adjusted the cushions behind my back and helped me sit back comfortably as Riza passed over the little squirming human in her arms. Dumbfounded, I looked down, and couldn't stop the tears that followed. I cried shamelessly, shaky hands clutching the bloodied body of my daughter - my daughter! - as the two teens worked around us to wipe away any fluid left on her. She wailed as I wept and— fuck, it was all so overwhelming.
As soon as the pair were happy I was stable (and I brought my inconsolable ten down to a mild blubbering five), Joel took the baby away to check her stats. Still sniffling, I barely registered the hand rubbing my shoulder
"You did great," Jason whispered to me, voice shaking as he laughed in both relief and delight. "She's gorgeous."
I nodded with a vacant gaze, too stunned by what my body had achieved to comment. The pain long forgotten, I was drowning in a tsunami of emotion. I just couldn't stop smiling.
"She's looking good," Joel praised, flashing us a broad smile that was so rare to see on the teen's face. "Healthy weight and her vitals are pretty much spot on. Good, strong heartbeat."
"And ain't she just the cutest little bug?" Riza added, cooing softly at the baby in her arms.
She was. She was the most perfect thing I'd ever seen. And she was mine (so maybe I was just a teensy bit biased).
My baby was returned to me, now swaddled in a yellow blanket and staring up at us all with curious eyes. Holding her close to my chest, skin warm on mine, I was filled with such a pure sense of adoration and love. I felt light, like I was floating on air. All those worries evaporated, drifting away like a whisper in the wind. Nothing else mattered. Just her.
She was so beautiful. Pale and pruny skin, mottled due to the drop in temperature, with thin wrinkles lining the scrunched up expression on her face. Atop her head was a mop of dark hair - black, like his - and eyes of bright blue were masked beneath long lashes.
Having never interacted with a baby before, the sensation of holding a sentient wriggling being felt foreign to me. I wasn't sure what to do or where to put my hands, and my inexperience was obvious.
"Support her head," Jason instructed quietly, peering over my shoulder to look down at the small babe. Wordlessly, I obeyed, too overcome with awe to speak.
It wasn't as awkward as I thought it would have been. In the weeks leading up to the birth, I'd cringed as I envisioned holding a screaming, squirming lump in a room full of strangers. But she was no stranger. This was a life I'd housed inside me for the past nine months. I knew her. And she knew me.
"Can I have a few minutes alone with her?" I asked, and Jason nodded with a fond smile, gesturing for the other two teens to follow. Riza didn't stop oohing and ahhing over my daughter even as she walked away; Joel just grinned, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. I'd have to make sure to thank them both properly later.
Waiting, I listened as the door clicked shut and the trio's muffled footfalls grew quieter, leaving us both in a comfortable peace. The little lady in my arms seemed content just to stare up at me which, yeah, was a little creepy but I was too mesmerised by her existence to care. In the tiniest little voice, she whimpered as I hauled her up to my shoulder, shushing her softly. She smelled sweet in the way all new babies do and I took a few moments to appreciate her warm aroma and general loveliness. For a split second, I wondered if my own mother took a moment to admire me or whether she just cut me loose and was done with it.
It wasn't worth thinking about that anymore. I didn't have to pine for a family I didn't have because I had one now. A lifetime pal; a daughter. Although there was no one around to hear me speak, I lowered my voice to whisper, resting my head against her own.
"Alright, baby girl," I said in a gentle hum. "I know you can't understand English yet, so I don't expect you to respond - it'd be creepy if you did actually, please don't - but I wanted to let you know that you're something special."
Currently, the little human laying across my shoulder couldn't have given less of a damn about anything I was saying, more content with snuggling up against my warmth, probably looking for a source of food. Nevertheless, this moment was monumental for me, and I was feeling sentimental, so I continued to spew my feelings onto her.
"I never thought I'd have kids. Never planned on it. I doubt your dad did either. Yet here you are - and you're so very loved."
Picturing L with this little bundle of sweetness in his arms triggered an onslaught of gut wrenching sadness in me. Thinking about how he'd been robbed of this opportunity - remembering he never even knew what we'd made together - made me want to claw my heart right out of my chest. It was so unfair. Not just for me, but for her as well. I tried not to dwell on it but, the longer I dreamt about what could have been, the more cheated I felt out of happiness.
"You'll never meet your dad, and I'm sorry for that," I told her sadly, "but I'll make sure you grow up knowing who he was and what he did for us."
Beaming down down at her, I noticed - with an immense amount of glee - how much she looked like L. While it was true that most newborns looked like carbon copies of each other, there were elements of him in her perfect little face. Round, owlish eyes which stared up at me with curiosity, the hair colour that was so clearly a part of his genetics - far darker than mine ever was - crowning her head. I was glad for it. L deserved to have a legacy beyond that of his title and all his achievements. Despite what others thought, he was still human - a man with his own feelings and desires. And she was the evidence.
"He'd have adored you, I'm sure," I cooed. "You'd have been given the world on a platter if you'd asked for it. Never wanting, never afraid."
Yeah, this little girl would have been spoiled with L as a parent. No doubt about it. The guy might've struggled with affection and intimacy but he knew how to take care of those he cherished. Even the other members of the task force and their families had been guaranteed financial security in the event they lost their job with the police force. He'd have doted on our daughter. Sadly, she was stuck with only me now. Hopefully, I'd be a good enough substitute.
"We'll be okay without him, won't we?" I said, meaning for it to sound more like a statement (but, really, it sounded like I was seeking reassurance from someone who'd spent a grand total of ten minutes on this earth). "Your mom is a warrior, stronger than she gives herself credit for. And she'll teach you to be strong too."
Looking out of the window across from me, I smiled as I saw the last of the storm clouds scattering. All of the rain from the night before had dispersed and summer sunshine shone fiercely in its place. A rich cerulean sky stretched across the city, chasing away the last of the nighttime's darkness to make way for the dawn. The world seemed so colourful with her now in it. It was a nice morning to become a mom.
A/N
[ not beta read - we die like men ]
* A Xenomorph (zee-no-morf) is an extra-terrestrial creature and main antagonist in the 'Alien' franchise. They're commonly known as chestbursters because of how the way they break through their host's chests in order to be born. Grisly stuff.
Bet you weren't expecting two chapters were you. Haha pranked y'all. We're back with the canon plot next chapter so I'll see you then. Until then, I hope you're all healthy, happy, and staying safe!