Accidental Surrogate

Ella

I'm gripping my sister’s hand, gritting my teeth and groaning through the first of my pushes, when the door bangs open again.I don’t open my eyes — can't look - Quite frankly, at this particular moment I don’t care who the hell it is - if it's Hank, or Roger, or insurgents coming to kill us — all I care about is the horrible, tearing pain within me as I work to bring my baby into the world.I moan, throwing my head back against the pillows as I pant, feeling the pain subside a little bit.

"How is she?"

I hear Hank ask, and I open my eyes to see him there next to me.I try to give him a little smile, failing a bit.

"Hello, Ella," he says softly, his voice warmer than I'm used to.

"You look like you're doing great." mI murmur my thanks to him as he turns his attention back to Cora, getting a full report, and I shift my gaze to Roger, who stands awkwardly across the room.

"Roger," I say, putting my hand out to him, inviting him closer.

"Hello, Ella!" he calls, awkward.

"Happy...happy birth. Or whatever."

Sinclair starts to laugh quietly.

"Come over, Roger," he demands and Roger sighs, hanging his head and deliberately choosing not to look at me as he comes to stand with his brother.

"What," Sinclair asks him as he arrives at his side.

"More of a cigars in the waiting room kind of guy?"

"Yeah," Roger agrees, giving his brother a little glare.

"I'd say that’s much more my vibe."

"I wanted you here," I say to him, giving him a tired little smile.

"I want you to meet the baby."

"Of course I want to meet the baby, Ella," Roger says, his voice kinder now as he meets my gaze.

"Just...when you've cleaned it up a bit. Gotten some of the goop off." I laugh, a little, but groan when I feel the pain start to return.

Cora climbs up onto the bed for this one, cursing a little at the lack of stirrups and the soft surface of the mattress that makes it harder for her to see what's really going on.

as he turns away, which perversely makes me want to

Sinclair solid a

quite quickly through this,

informs me as the contraction ends and I pant, working to

in the final parts of it now," he

no idea what that could mean - is there trouble in paradise? - but honestly, any of my interest in that question is

the contractions and then resting, as best I can, in the short spaces between them. I

sister calls encouragement to me and my mate is by my side through every moment of it, steadily holding me

endless repetition of this pattern, Cora gives a

says, and the cheer in her voice is a

with hope in my eyes and she gives me a happy little

push, sis, and his head will be

Cora tells me to, I push - absolutely as hard as

"Oh, his little head!"

And push, and push. I gasp, laying back and panting as I feel the contraction end, and I look to Cora for instructions. Instead of a happy smile, though, I see her exchange an odd little

up and moaning at the

wrong? Where's

wrong?" Sinclair asks, suddenly tense next to

and the passing of responsibility to another - no matter how much they outstrip him in their expertise

mate wants

"Um,"

okay, Ella - he’s almost born -

up, to see the child, but my sister shakes her head at me, leaning forward to press me back to

I beg, my eyes fixed on

have

and I see that

past few pushes. Which is sometimes

"There is some worry,"

he’s such a large baby, that he

gasp,

rigid next

Hank

called shoulder dystocia — we think his shoulder is

confused, baffled, horribly

"What do we -"

her worried voice belies