Accidental Surrogate

Sinclair

Agony.

It’s agony for me – obviously, more for my mate, I’m sure – but watching her survive this is ripping me apart.

I struggle against Roger’s grip – he shouldn’t be stronger than me, he’s never stronger than me, I should be able to break away – but something about all of this has just taken it out of me. I am weak, now, watching my mate struggle for her life, watching my son take his first breaths, that rips the energy from me. I gasp for breath, panicked, looking between my Ella and the baby in the doctor’s hands.

“Relax,” Roger commands, his voice low behind me as he holds me back with a hand on each of my arms. “Let them work. You can’t do anything right now. They’ll call you when they need you.”

I know he’s right, but the impulse – I have to do something –

Still, I stand with my brother, letting him take control as I watch Hank and Cora moving, blessing them in my mind with every breath that pants from my lips. Ella lays back against the pillows, pale, breathing faintly, apparently half conscious and half out.

The pair of doctors move fast. Hank glances over the crying child and then quickly hands him to Cora, reaching for the medical bag that sits on the bed between them. Cora does a quick inspection of the baby and then hastily cuts the umbilical cord. Then, she meets my eyes.

“Come and take your child, Dominic,” she demands, wrapping him hastily in the scrap of a pillowcase that I tore to pieces not long ago. “He’s fine – but Ella needs both Hank and I right now.” Roger releases my arms and I move forward, my eyes half on my beautiful Ella as I take the baby from Cora’s hands. I can’t – how can I greet my son when his mother –

“The child,” Cora says, holding my gaze for a brief moment before turning back to Ella. ” Concentrate on the baby, Sinclair. We’ve got Ella for now.”

And so I do. I look down at my infant son, crying his lusty little heart out, waving his little tiny fists in the air. Something in me takes over something I’m not sure I knew was there – as I begin to shush my child, to rock him, to try to bring him to a peaceful state in this scary new world. Slowly, softly, I raise my hand to wipe at the liquid on his face, to clear it, marveling at the fact that his entire head is completely dwarfed by the size of my palm

And then, following an impulse that’s totally new to me, I lean forward and bring my face close to my sons, pressing a kiss to his head and taking a deep breath of his new baby scent, totally new and, somehow, already totally his own. “Welcome, baby,” I murmur.

From the corners of my vision I can see Cora and Hank working swiftly with their medical supplies, Hank sewing quickly while Cora crouches by Ella’s head, taking her pulse and smacking her cheeks a little.

and I see my mate – oh, thank god – I see her blink, and focus on her sister, her face ashen and white. Unbidden, I come to Ella’s side, determined to be with her

my mate’s hand, the baby curled in the curve of my other

to access the gift. You need it. Ask her to heal

her head and closes her eyes. But I don’t know if that’s because….because she’s accessing the gift? Or something

my mouth, panicked, to call her name, but

my mate’s hand,

Ella

anything right now to think, to concentrate, to communicate – let alone enter the calm meditative

body is wracked with pain, and I don’t know whether it’s blood loss from Hank’s medical cut, or some sort of tear within me, or…something else. But my vision fades in and out from a hazy view of the

I see Sinclair standing by my side, feel his hand in my own, and see our little baby

he was in

new determination within me. So, working hard to steady my breathing, to not slip into oblivion, I close my eyes and work to

there. I watch the insides of my eyelids fade from black and red to that cool lavender, and I feel the balm of my mother’s gift begin to

as Cora was,

anything at all – if the gift is working inside me, and they’re just holding their breaths, hoping

a mother’s welcoming arms. I feel cradled within its warmth, and can

all I’ve given the world, I have

me like rainwater through grass, seeking the roots of me, wanting to refresh but taking its time getting there. But as it

staring at me, their faces shocked. I take a deep breath and look around at the four of them. But I

little baby. Who is not