You're My End & My Beginning // [Rhodes Oneshot]
Mar 7, 2017 13:49:43 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on Mar 7, 2017 13:49:43 GMT -5
NAVYA RHODES
Ever since Elidor had taken her to the window, she’d had steady contractions. At first they were a quarter hour apart. So, she didn’t tell anyone. She just settled back into her hospital bed and flipped through the same tired magazine, featuring none other than her husband on the cover. At some point, late that same evening, she had one of her cousins drag the phone, coiled wire and all, into the room so she could called Harbinger. He didn’t answer but still, somehow, she felt closer to him.
For awhile, she slept. At midnight, the contractions began to hit every ten minutes, and then every eight, and by two o’clock in the morning they were coming fast and furious, barely enough time between for her to catch her breath. The Peacekeeper doctor was summoned and Navya hoped fervently, between pants, that he would be too deeply asleep to bother.
No such luck. He arrived in the room looked fresh and determined. He shooed everyone out but his staff and only one of Navya’s cousins, who he made wash up methodically and don scrubs. By the time they all turned to her, they looked like blue clad aliens.
Which was the last really clear thought she had before the pain permeated everything. Not just her nether regions, not just her mind. Pain pierced the entire world.
“It’s not time yet, Mrs. Rhodes. Breathe. That’s a girl.”
Later, her cousin would tell her that she didn’t scream at the doctor; she roared.
Short pants. One long exhale. “The pain – please –”
“Almost there. Just another – okay, you can push now.”
It was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do in her whole life.
The first baby punched through her, landing in the arms of the doctor, who quickly turned him over to Navya’s cousin. “First twin is out. A healthy male. Try to take deep breaths while you can.”
“I want to see him. I need to see him.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rhodes, but given all the work we’ve yet to do –”
She felt tears on her cheeks but she wasn’t crying. She was fuming. When the doctor turned to wash up for the next baby, Navya’s cousin wove through the nursing staff and just for a second, tipped the baby’s face towards Navya. The rush she felt brought her back from the brink of total exhaustion and pain. Her son. Their son. He squalled and a nurse snatched him to run more tests.
The next contraction pummeled Navya. And again. And again. She forgot to breathe. She forgot everything.
“Boy Twin B is out!” Someone said, under water and far away. Her ears had gotten huge, her mouth had gone dry. She closed her eyes.
Someone slapped her across the cheek. Hard.
She lifted her IV wound arm to the burning flesh. Her cousin looked absolutely horrified.
“Stay with us, Mrs. Rhodes. We’re almost there. Now, breathe, please.”
Navya hissed out the next breath, but this time she was ready. When the contraction rolled over her, she pressed down into it. The bottom half of her body was ragged and ravaged. It no longer felt like a part of her, which strangely made it easier. A few minutes of pushing and pressing, and –
“Baby Girl Rhodes is safely out. Let’s get some measurements on her and oxygen for the mother.”
Navya sank into the bed, barely aware of the oxygen mask, of the stinging needle pulling her back together. Her cousin whispered something, something like, “she’s so small, Navya” but she was gone. She was floating and then flying all the way to the Capitol. She was there, in Harbinger’s apartment, whole and safe in his arms.
While the doctors and nurses cleaned the babies, Navya slept.
For awhile, she slept. At midnight, the contractions began to hit every ten minutes, and then every eight, and by two o’clock in the morning they were coming fast and furious, barely enough time between for her to catch her breath. The Peacekeeper doctor was summoned and Navya hoped fervently, between pants, that he would be too deeply asleep to bother.
No such luck. He arrived in the room looked fresh and determined. He shooed everyone out but his staff and only one of Navya’s cousins, who he made wash up methodically and don scrubs. By the time they all turned to her, they looked like blue clad aliens.
Which was the last really clear thought she had before the pain permeated everything. Not just her nether regions, not just her mind. Pain pierced the entire world.
“It’s not time yet, Mrs. Rhodes. Breathe. That’s a girl.”
Later, her cousin would tell her that she didn’t scream at the doctor; she roared.
Short pants. One long exhale. “The pain – please –”
“Almost there. Just another – okay, you can push now.”
It was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do in her whole life.
The first baby punched through her, landing in the arms of the doctor, who quickly turned him over to Navya’s cousin. “First twin is out. A healthy male. Try to take deep breaths while you can.”
“I want to see him. I need to see him.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rhodes, but given all the work we’ve yet to do –”
She felt tears on her cheeks but she wasn’t crying. She was fuming. When the doctor turned to wash up for the next baby, Navya’s cousin wove through the nursing staff and just for a second, tipped the baby’s face towards Navya. The rush she felt brought her back from the brink of total exhaustion and pain. Her son. Their son. He squalled and a nurse snatched him to run more tests.
The next contraction pummeled Navya. And again. And again. She forgot to breathe. She forgot everything.
“Boy Twin B is out!” Someone said, under water and far away. Her ears had gotten huge, her mouth had gone dry. She closed her eyes.
Someone slapped her across the cheek. Hard.
She lifted her IV wound arm to the burning flesh. Her cousin looked absolutely horrified.
“Stay with us, Mrs. Rhodes. We’re almost there. Now, breathe, please.”
Navya hissed out the next breath, but this time she was ready. When the contraction rolled over her, she pressed down into it. The bottom half of her body was ragged and ravaged. It no longer felt like a part of her, which strangely made it easier. A few minutes of pushing and pressing, and –
“Baby Girl Rhodes is safely out. Let’s get some measurements on her and oxygen for the mother.”
Navya sank into the bed, barely aware of the oxygen mask, of the stinging needle pulling her back together. Her cousin whispered something, something like, “she’s so small, Navya” but she was gone. She was floating and then flying all the way to the Capitol. She was there, in Harbinger’s apartment, whole and safe in his arms.
While the doctors and nurses cleaned the babies, Navya slept.
table coding (c) ghosty