Chapter 119: Taran

Considering how exciting life has been since I met Diogo, when I finally go into labour, I'm doing nothing more innocuous than washing clothes. As long as I don't lift the water myself Diogo allows me to do some light chores. I find the task is a soothing one. I enjoy the process and I enjoy the product at the end. Fresh smelling clothes.
I'm in the process of squeezing excess water out of one of Diogo's shirts when the first contraction hits. It's nothing much, so at first I think the baby is just being more active than usual. Then, several minutes later, another contraction bands my stomach. I gasp as I realize what's happening, drop the shirt back in the water bin, and make my way over to the couch. Slowly I lower myself.
I sit for several minutes, waiting for another contraction. When it comes, I know. I'm in labour. It feels like I've been waiting for this moment for years instead of nine months. I stand, head toward the bedroom, then turn around and sit again. Then I stand, head for the kitchen, then sit again.
Shit, I have no idea what I'm doing. All the planning and discussion surrounding the birth and I've forgotten everything.
"Okay, Taran, let's go through the list," I say out loud to myself, my hand on my lower belly, rubbing the tiny flutters there. "Step one, tell whoever's babysitting me. Step two, go find Bishop. Step three, send someone to find Diogo. Step four, get someone to find Emery who can calm Diogo down. Step five, produce the baby."
Okay, we can do this, baby. Let's get born.
I get back to my feet, cursing myself out for pacing so much while I was trying to figure out what to do. My poor feet become swollen when they aren't raised up on a chair with a pillow underneath them. I work my way laboriously toward the door and open it.
I bite back the annoyed exclamation that leaps to my lips when I find Stryker on the other side. I've come to detest his constant presence and have asked Diogo to give him other duties. Cognizant of my exasperation toward the big grizzled soldier, Diogo has been assigning Grayson to me unless his presence is required somewhere else, which apparently it was. I don't even remotely understand Stryker's fascination with me, and I definitely don't enjoy it. He hovers, he argues, he gets in my space until I want to scream.
"The baby is coming," I tell him bluntly. "I need you to get Bishop."
His eyes widen and drop to my belly. I want to tell him that yes, it's still in there, but I keep the snarky comment to myself. No need to antagonize him when I'm essentially helpless and need him to help me through steps one, two and three.
Once he finishes processing my words, he quickly shakes his head. "No, better that I take you to the Doc than bring him here."
I grit my teeth. Absolutely everything about this baby has been an argument with Stryker, and now, apparently, so is the birthing process.
"I'm having the baby here, Stryker. We've been planning this for more than a month. Diogo agrees, Bishop agrees, Emery agrees. I should have the baby here in our apartment." I speak slowly so he understands every word. "Now please, go get Bishop and bring him to me. He should be at the clinic, but you can radio ahead."
"He's not at the clinic," Stryker answers quickly. "He went to Old Tucson to help with the injured. That receptionist of his let everyone know where he went and that the Doc forgot his radio. Safest place for you to be is at the clinic, where at least the Dee woman has some experience with this sort of thing. We can bring you back here if the Doc is found."
I stare up at him in dismay. We had a plan. The plan was solid. Everyone knows the plan. To suddenly be told my birth plan isn't going to work plunges me into a pit of uncertainty. I've managed to keep myself from being scared of the birthing process by clinging to the idea that our plan would make me as comfortable as possible. I'd be surrounded by medical expertise and loved ones, while staying in my home.
"Okay..." I say slowly, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. "Can you please go get Diogo then? My husband can make the decision whether I go or stay."
Stryker eyes me for a moment and then gives a sharp nod. He lifts his radio and says, "Stryker to Warlord."
We wait several seconds but the only answer he gets is static.
"Please try again," I insist, attempting to keep the note of desperation from my voice. I don't want to have this baby without Diogo. I don't want to have it without the Doctor. How is it that the two I trusted most with my delivery have disappeared at the same time? I'm beginning to feel cursed with all the bad luck I've been having over the past year.
He tries to radio for Diogo again, and then for good measure, the Doctor. I can tell by the look on his face that mine is starting to reflect the panic I'm feeling inside. Now what do I do?
He hooks his radio on his belt and slowly, as though reaching toward a wild animal, puts his hand on my shoulder. His massive paw covers the whole thing as he gently squeezes me. "It'll be okay, girl. I'm not new to this sort of thing. Wife had a baby before she was... well, I know what I'm doing anyway. This part takes the longest. How far apart are your contractions?"
I shake my head, my arms wrapped protectively around my belly, my lips turned down. "I don't know!"
"You need to calm down and think. This is important, Taran. How many minutes are there between the contractions and how painful are they?"
I force myself to breathe through the panic and think. Stryker's right, I'm not doing myself any favours by freaking out. I think about the answer to his question. "Uh... I think they're about eight to ten minutes apart now. And there's no pain, just a lot of pressure. Like a band around my stomach."
"Good girl, you're doing real good here," he says, still in that calm voice like I'm some kind of frightened bird.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Okay, we've established I'm not about to give birth out here in the hall in the next few minutes. What next?"
He thinks about it for a moment. "We go to the clinic. I think you should at least have Dee nearby until Bishop shows up." I open my mouth to protest, to remind him of the at-home birth plan, but he anticipates me. "If the Doc gives the okay we can bring you back here. No harm done."
I heave a sigh and lean back against the wall. Honestly, I'm too exhausted to fight him. And having Dee with me until I can have the Doctor is a comforting thought. "Okay, let's go to the clinic." I eye him up and down. "You're going to have to carry me down the stairs since the Warlord has decided we need to inhabit the eighteenth floor and the elevator lift hasn't been installed yet."
He frowns down at me. "You think I'm too old to carry a little thing like you? Even with that little bird in your stomach you'll feel like a feather."
I roll my eyes at his posturing and hold my arms out as he scoops me up. It feels bizarre to be in anyone's arms except Diogo's. Since we moved in, I either don't leave the apartment or Diogo takes me out and acts like some kind of mama bear every minute I'm out of the new Tower. It's sweet, and maybe a little stifling. Although, since my stomach has become so large, I've grown to enjoy his fussing. He rubs my back and feet, makes food for me and takes me up to the roof to see the new greenhouse he's building. All this while still rebuilding Sanctuary. I couldn't have asked for a more attentive partner.
"Do you have a car?" I ask worriedly.
"Course." I don't know if he's trying to be reassuring or if I offended him. Cars are status no matter where you live. Inside Sanctuary and out. I imagine they're probably important commodities elsewhere in the world too. They represent the ability to travel quickly. Only the elite have them. If someone of a lower class has one, it's either stolen or about to be stolen, because cars are worth killing over. It's why stealing a car from the military or the elite carries a death penalty.
Diogo mentioned that I should learn how to drive so I'm not left helpless if anything happens, like another fire. I just looked at him like he had a second head and shook my head. I've never driven a car and I have no desire to learn. They are fast moving death machines. I'd be crazy to want anything to do with them except the convenience of an occasional ride.
When we reach the sidewalk, Stryker carefully places me on my feet and opens my door. As I climb in, another, more intense contraction strikes. I grip my belly and moan. When it passes, I look up at him and what I see nearly drives me back into the building and the safety of my cozy apartment all set up for the birth of this baby. His face, his eyes, hold a crazy kind of glee, as though he's just barely containing his excitement.
Before I can comment, snap at him to back off and give me some space, the expression disappears into his usual grim stoicism. He steps back and closes the door once I'm in. Suddenly I yearn intensely for all the things I need in this moment and don't have; my husband, my doctor, my friend turned mother figure, the nursery. As we pull away from the curb, I can't help but feel as though I'm making a big mistake in going with Stryker.

***

Stryker


Her face flashes with fear, but it doesn't matter. It's too late. I have her and I have the baby. Mine now. I saved her life, saved her baby, by snatching her out of the sky as she fell through the flames of a burning building. Her life belongs to me, both of theirs do.
Until that moment I'd thought her painfully useless, hadn't wanted anything to do with the Desert Wren. She was a nuisance at best and a dangerous distraction to our Warlord at worst. Her philosophies, her convictions and her actions are all hopelessly naive. I had thought that the best thing that could happen to our city, to our Commander, would be for her to die quietly.
But then she'd come to me, landed in my arms. I'd cushioned her as we fell to the pavement, taking her weight against mine. She'd passed out as I held her, looking down into her face, smeared with dirt and ash. She'd taken on a beauty I hadn't recognized before. Her hair, almost the same shade of auburn as my wife's. Her small body with the delicate bone structure and bird-like features, so much like Abrielle.
As I held her, cradled her and protected her with my life, I realized that I was being given a second chance to atone for losing my family. Through Taran, through the baby, I will find her again. I will do a better job of protecting them this time.
I will finally find the peace I have spent decades searching for, and I will find it in the haven of this woman and our child.