xp_logs | Rachel's Arrival

If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it. I think that I see something deeper, more infinite, more eternal than the ocean in the expression of the eyes of a little baby when it wakes in the morning and coos or laughs because it sees the sun shining on its cradle. -Van Gogh

~*~

The Blackbird makes it home in time. Moira's homicidal urges are soothed. The baby is not so sure about this whole 'being born' thing.

Moira snarled again, just, well, just because. The pain was starting to recede and was being replaced by pressure but still. He wasn't here. Nathan was late.

One hand firmly wrapped around Charles' suit jacket, she hissed, "Make them go faster," at him. She was going to kill him.

And Scott. Scott was dead too.

Waiting to deplane until the Blackbird had come to a complete stop had been insult to injury. Really. No other way to put it. Nathan had raced out the hatch as soon as it was open, shedding various pieces of his leathers on his way to the most rushed shower he'd ever taken in his life. Afterwards, he would congratulate himself for having remembered that no, the doctors would not have let him into the delivery room fresh off the plane, and that being turned around at the door would have been more frustrating than the additional few minutes delay.

Even if those few minutes seemed to take forever. One more dash, from the locker rooms to the medlab, and then Maddie was helping him into a gown and pushing him in the direction of the delivery room.

#I'm here!# he projected, a bit too agitatedly, and blinked at the soothing thoughts from Charles, who immediately vacated the spot beside the bed. Right. Calm. "I'm here," he said - and nearly turned right back around and ran out at the door at the Look Moira gave him.

Slightly loopy from the medicine and still incredibly agitated, Moira grabbed hold of the cup of ice next to her bed and tossed it at his head. "Ye're bloody well late!" she bellowed and then grabbed her stomach as another contraction hit. As much as the pain had been bad, the feeling of pressure was almost worse.

"So bloody dead," she snarled. "An' Scott. Scott's dead."

Normal, Nathan told himself a bit wildly, ducking the flung cup of ice. Perfectly normal. He dropped down into the chair beside the bed, grabbing her free hand. For support. Right, support. And so she couldn't hit him. "You can kill me if you like," he promised. "However you like. I swear. Public, private, fast, slow..."

She smacked him with her other hand. "An' those bloody terrorists. Dead! All dead! Who th' bloody fuck 'eard o' yankin' an expectin' father ta be off on a bloody mission at a time like this?"

"Have I ever told you how lovely you are when you're bloodthirsty? Ow!" Okay, the second smack had considerably more force behind it. "Moira, love, you'll be giving the munchkin the wrong impression... calm down? Please?"

The look she gave him was utterly withering. "She's bein' shielded," she snarled, but laid back against the pillows. "Charles 'as been shieldin' her since th' telekinetic fireworks started once I got in 'ere."

Charles was calmly updating Nathan on the aforementioned fireworks, even as Moira spoke, and Nathan, calming down himself a little further, stepped in to help shield. "She's not... scared," he said, his eyes widening a little as he made contact with the baby's mind. "Just really, really pissed. Oh my."

"I cannae blame 'er any!"

"But she's okay." Following Charles' instruction, Nathan carefully linked with Rachel's mind and then drew Moira in as well. "See? She just doesn't know what's happening."

#?!?!?!# was the indignant response. #!!!!!#

Waiting as another contraction hit, Moira relaxed a little. "I still cannae blame 'er. Th' world she's used ta is changin' rapidly." She grimaced. "An' painfully. At least on me end."

His grip on her hand tightened a little. "If it helps to hit me, do it some more. Seriously." Nathan reached out with his free hand and stroked the sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead, all the while sending soothing thoughts down the link to both of them. "You're doing fine." He could tell that just by the atmosphere in the room; no one was rushing around, there was a certain level of contained excitement but no real tension.

"But tha' takes all th' fun out o' it," she joked, leaning into his hand. "Easier than last time, tha's for sure. Wit' Charles 'ere, we're makin' sure she cannae use her powers ta try an' stay in there."

Nathan tried not to shudder at the thought. He was running over meditative patterns in his mind at top speed, knowing that if he didn't keep himself calm, he had no chance of helping them. "No need to stay," he murmured, projecting that at the agitated little presence on the link even as he spoke the words aloud. "It's not so bad out here. Really."

#!!!!# was the response, sounding outraged. #!!!!!# Then, as another contraction hit, Rachel emitted an unmistakable telepathic wail, sounding terrified. And Nathan stiffened on his chair as he felt, very distinctly, telekinetic lines of force starting to form, weak but very determined.

#It's all right, it's all right,# he soothed, joining Charles in keeping her from lashing out. #You're all right.#

Gasping, Moira dropped Nathan's hand in favor of gripping him by his shirt--far less easy to break a shirt than a hand she thought as she felt SOMETHING start to happen. It was soon gone, thankfully, and she sagged back into the pillow as whatever Nathan and Charles had done started to work.

He was going to need some telepathic calming down himself, at this rate, Nathan thought a bit wildly. "It's all right," he said aloud, stroking Moira's hair, holding onto the link. "Just... keep thinking at her that it'll be all right. So she's not scared."

She nodded and concentrated--anything to take her mind off of the pressure as well--sending soothing thoughts down the link as more of the drugs hit. "Besides," she said softly, blinking in sudden thought, "she cannae 'ave custard if she's still in there."

"... custard?" Nathan stared at her, wondering if it was the drugs, or the stress, or what.

"Custard," she said firmly. "Ye cannae 'ave custard if yer nay born yet." Moira glanced down at her stomach and quirked an eyebrow. "Granted, neither can newborn babies but she'll grow big enough ta enjoy it soon enough." She blinked again. "I'm out o' ice."

~*~

Around 2am, Rachel makes her grand entrance.

Cold! Bright!

They weren't concepts that a newborn mind had words to express, but words or not, Rachel Fiona Kinross found herself experiencing them for the first time. And she did not like it.

The shriek she emitted didn't make use of her lungs, however healthy she would prove them to be in the days to come. It was telepathic, it was infuriated, and it was loud. Very, very loud.

Moira winced, tiredly, as her daughter's telepathic, angry scream bounced around in her head. The rest of the Doctors Four, the ones that didn't just have a baby, were gathered around Rachel as they attempted to weigh her and do all the normal newborn baby things.

With an exceptionally different newborn baby.

All of the tension Nathan had been trying so very, very hard to suppress drained out of him like water through a sieve. All right, through a gaping hole; it was that fast. Because even if Hank and Jean and Madelyn were more or less obscuring his daughter from sight completely, he could still feel her.

And out here, in the world, she was an even brighter, even more vivid presence. Very, very upset, but healthy. Strong.

The telepathic scream was followed up by a purely conventional sort of squeal, followed by a sequence of noises that sounded more like an angry kitten than anything else.

Moira chuckled a little and then slumped further into her pillow. She waved away Nathan's worried look and smiled. "Am exhausted, nothin' more. I wish they would 'urry it up, I want ta 'old our daughter..."

Nathan managed a somewhat unsteady smile in return, stroking her hair. "They'll bring her over here in a minute, I'd think." He paused. "And here I didn't think you could be any more beautiful than you were on our wedding day," he said softly, his eyes stinging. He would have said more, but then Jean was turning back towards them, a small wrapped bundle in her arms that she eased down into Moira's.

Rachel coughed, mewed, and blinked up at her mother.

Moira returned the blink, mainly to get rid of the sudden well of tears. She hadn't been able to hold Kevin after he was born, not with all of his problems. "'ello there," she whispered softly, staring into her child's eyes.

Rachel regarded her for a long, long moment. #?# was the response, carrying with it a certain amount of recognition. Nathan leaned in closer, his smile still a little wobbly, and Rachel made another little noise as she felt a familiar shiny something reach out to her. #...mmm?# she sent back inquisitively, then yawned widely, letting out another squeak

"Me bright, beautiful lass," Moira crooned, not caring in the least who saw her being completely, utterly sappy. Rachel waved a tiny fist at her as she settled, looking rather elfish in the tiny baby hat and blanket.

Something had stolen his voice. That was the only possible explanation for why he couldn't make a sound, suddenly, Nathan thought dimly. Perfect. She was perfect. Perfectly beautiful... perfectly... perfect. He reached out an unsteady hand to take the tiny fist, and Rachel squeaked again.

"She sounds like th' baby panda at th' National Zoo," Moira said, laughing with a little bit of happy tears in her voice. "Ours. Whole, 'appy, an' ours, Nathan."

Maddie and Jean were very slowly advancing, thinking very pointedly about the rest of the things that needed doing for Moira, and Nathan told himself that it was really not on to be resentful. This was just the first moment. There would be others. So many others.

"Red hair," he said softly, seeing the fluff peeking out from underneath the little baby hat. "I was hoping..."

So much to do, Moira realized, but for the first time the emotional part of her told the thinking part of her to shut up and just enjoy. She cast a glance at her husband and knew that the baby's hair wouldn't fall out or the color change. It wouldn't. "Yer red 'eaded girls," she teased.

"My girls," he managed, his vision blurring with tears, leaning in to kiss her. #Love you both,# he sent softly. #So much.#

This maybe wasn't so bad after all, Rachel decided, rather liking the fuzzy warm thoughts coming from the two big people.