Surrogate
"If I die, the baby dies with me," she said, frowning. Her fingers wrapped themselves around his hand. "That isn't a chance you can take."
He shook his head. "No, Shoshan, you're not going to die. I won't let you." He turned to Dallas, who was still staring at Shoshan. "You did this. She'd never done anything to hurt you. Now you will help me or I will kill you."
"It's not his fault," Shoshan said weakly. "He's broken inside. Like you."
Dallas hung his head, ashamed.
Robbie glared at him. "No, not like me Shoshan. I might be broken, but at least I'd never hurt anyone."
She started to argue with him, but he knew she was too weak.
As carefully as he could, he gathered her into his arms and carried her toward the house with Dallas following behind.
Chapter Sixteen
Once Robbie set her on the bed, he shoved the door closed and glared at Dallas. "Help me."
"I...don't know what to do." He floundered in the knowledge that whatever lay on the bed, however good and pure it was, was also far beyond his rudimentary skill as a healer.
"Do something!" Robbie snapped in desperation.
Dallas moved sluggishly, trancelike. "We need to get the bleeding under control by applying pressure. I need something to soak up the blood." He unbuttoned her nightgown and looked at the wound.
Robbie strode to his dresser and yanked out some t-shirts that he tossed on the bed next to Dallas. Dallas eased the knife out and quickly picked one up and packed it against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding as Robbie leaned over her.
"Shoshan, can you hear me?" he asked again, this time louder than before. She appeared as pure light here, and he wondered if it were because her physical form were failing.
Her eyes flickered open, and they did, but even they seemed fatigued and faded, signifying just how weak she must have been.
"There you are," he whispered, leaning over her so their foreheads touched. "I thought I might have lost you." The words tumbled out of his mouth.
He looked at her, alarmed at how much of her brilliance had faded. Perhaps it was just because they were under the incandescent lighting, but he doubted it. He was no healer, but then again he did have an EMT. He glanced over at Dallas and quickly realized that was a useless thought. About all Dallas was capable of now was trying to keep Shoshan from bleeding so much. He was drunk and shaken.
"The baby. It has to come out now." Her breathing was labored.
"How?" he asked, his mind suddenly reeling from what was ahead. "I mean, I know how humans do this, but you're different. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it."
Shoshan's hand drifted over her stomach. "I know I'm not human, Robbie--that I'll never be human--but this baby is yours, and everything I understand about humans stems from you, Carrie, and the child, so I can only do this the way Carrie would have. I don't know any other way." Her voice cracked and she winced. She groaned and gripped her side.
"What is it?" He started looking over her and quickly realized her water had broken. So much for thinking they had more time.
Robbie clenched his teeth, alarmed at all the blood she was still losing. "I know what you're saying," he whispered, his hand taking hers. "But this might kill you."
She nodded, her eyes glimmering with tears. "I know." A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. "But there's no guarantee I'll survive any of this."
"There has to be another way," Dallas argued weakly, checking the flow of blood that still came out. "Granted, I don't know what she is, but labor will destroy her."
"We have to do something else," Robbie told her as he inhaled sharply and leaned against her chest, She lifted a hand and brushed it through his hair.
"We can't. Not without killing the child, and I won't do that. I can't."
As Robbie lifted his head, he felt tears sliding down his face, and if anyone had asked him why he was crying, he couldn't have told them. Was it the baby or Carrie? Was it Shoshan? Or was it the fact that his race didn't deserve to be found by aliens who hadn't come here to hurt anyone? All Robbie knew was that he ached from deep within, and there was no solution that would make everything go back to the way it had been. He'd foolishly thought that not having Carrie with him was as bad as it could get, but now, in the face of losing Shoshan and possibly his child, everything had turned dark; his whole world had been lit by a single candle which had been blown out.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, and his voice reminded him of when he'd been a small child and clinging to his mother in the wake of some horrible nightmare. He was as terrified now as he'd ever been.
Shoshan gently dabbed at his tears. "Nothing is ever truly lost, Robbie. Nothing."
For a moment, she turned away while lifting both hands into the air. She seemed to be holding an invisible ball she then sculpted. Robbie frowned, puzzled.
"What...what are you doing?" Dallas asked, unable to stop watching the ball.
A ball of light appeared, brighter than Shoshan now was, a blue fire that slowly seemed to shift into a spiral of azure flame that shot toward the door and disappeared beneath
"Shoshan?"
"I'm sending word to my brothers to find me. If these wounds can be healed after the child comes, they will be able to do it." She looked back at him, suddenly more fragile, if that were possible.
He slowly moved toward her and brushed his mouth upon hers, needing to feel her warmth amid the storm he'd found himself in. When he pulled back, he saw fear in her eyes. "What do you want me to do?"
Both of her hands took one of his. "I don't know what I'm doing, Robbie. You have to tell me how to get through this. Please."
Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he walked around to the foot of the bed and slowly eased up her gown to remove her panties. He felt himself so close to caving into the fear he wasn't prepared for seeing Shoshan's form seem to become transparent. Then he saw Carrie there, but she was also transparent--so see-through his eyes settled on the baby positioned as it was low in the birth canal, poised to begin the journey into life.
Even now he could see the dark swatch of hair, and the child sucked its thumb. It was curled into a tight ball, so mesmerizingly perfect and beautiful that tears spilled down Robbie's face. He'd witnessed many things but never a miracle like this. And he knew it was something he would never see again.
He lifted his hand and covered his mouth as his heartbeat quickened. He watched as the little head turned slightly and eyes opened. He didn't know if the baby could really see him, and it was absurd to think the child would remember such a moment, but Robbie knew he'd never forget it. Never.
"Robbie," Shoshan whispered. "What do I do?"
He looked at Dallas. "What do I do?"
"Wash your hands and wait until the baby starts to crown. Then you gently guide it out. Make sure the cord doesn't wrap around its neck."
Robbie nodded and strode to the bathroom sink. His fingers fumbled as he grabbed the soap, dropping the bar once before he'd finished and dried his hands.
With a gentle touch, he bent her knees and eased them toward her body before kneeling. "You need to push the baby out. Women usually feel a tightening in their abdomens that helps to get the baby out. When you feel that tightening, push. It's not going to be easy, but when it comes out, I'll be here to take care of it."
Shoshan slowly nodded and gripped the comforter as she forced herself to start pushing. As he peered at her face, he saw the pain and how much the labor was taxing her. Part of him wanted to stop it somehow because he didn't know if she'd make it through. Her form wasn't designed for this. How much could she take?
"The bleeding is getting worse, Robbie," Dallas said, pulling the first t-shirt off and replacing it with a new one.
She pushed hard for five contractions, and nothing seemed to be happening. He could still see the baby, and maybe it was lower; he didn't know. He was too busy watching Shoshan, worrying about what all this was doing to her.
"I
don't think it's working," he said, trying to figure out what to do. But there was nothing. She needed help, and he was all she had. He wouldn't have wished that on anyone. "You have the power to stop this. Can't we wait for your brother?" Pain thickened his voice. "This is killing you, and I can't deal with that." He stepped to her side and touched her face.
Yet even as he looked at Shoshan, he saw the baby, eyes still watching him, and he felt he were betraying it for wanting Shoshan to live. He didn't know the right thing to wish for anymore.
"I just need to try harder," Shoshan whispered. "The baby will come." Her voice barely registered. She was getting weaker, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do.
"No," he whispered, knowing that his words would have no effect. She was determined to see this through no matter what it cost, and he thought again of all the humans he'd met who couldn't be bothered with one another. They had no compassion, and she was compassion.
"Please," she said, "I have to try. I sense the baby is starting to feel the pain. It needs to be free. Please."
Her eyes, luminous and wide, begged him for compliance, and even as he looked into their depths, he knew he had no choice. He would do whatever she asked because she'd asked it.
"All right," he finally managed, heading back to his delivery position, praying the baby came quickly, for both their sakes.
When the next contraction hit, Shoshan pushed harder than before, grunting as she clenched the bedspread in both hands. She partially sat up, and that must have made some difference-- or maybe someone was answering Robbie's prayers. In that moment, he saw the tiny head crowning, and he knew it wouldn't be long, thank God, until he was a father. Now, suddenly, he wasn't sure at all if he were ready for or good enough for the job. It had been Carrie who'd made him feel ready, and now he was a single parent perched on the rim of a precipice he didn't know anything about. It was one thing to dream of being a parent and another to be one.
"I see the head!" he gushed, feeling relief flood through him.
The contraction passed, and Shoshan lay back, her breathing labored and unsteady. It had taken on a whimpering quality, and he knew the pain must now be a constant companion, not the intermittent visitor it had been.
"When the next contraction hits, push hard. It'll be over soon," he promised. And it would. He just wasn't certain what would happen after that, considering her weakened state. How long would it take her brothers to find them? What would they do once they found Shoshan in this weakened state? Would they blame him? Why not? He blamed himself.
She took a few more ragged breaths before her abdomen tightened again, forcing her to sit up and try to push again. This time, the head pushed through, almost to the neck. The skin was covered in blood and vernix, but to Robbie that child had to be one of the most beautiful creatures he'd ever seen.
Still, no matter how much he wanted to find joy in this moment, his thoughts drifted back to Carrie. He could still see her form within Shoshan's, and it appeared she was only sleeping and that given the right stimulus she'd awaken and drift back into his life.
But that was never going to happen.
It had been Carrie's insistence that kept both of them from finding out whether they were having a boy or a girl. Carrie had wanted to be surprised, and he'd wanted to please Carrie. Now she would never know, and part of him ached at that thought. She would never see the little being she had wanted so much to protect that doing so had been her dying wish.
Shoshan groaned, dragging him back to the present, and he forced himself to concentrate. He had to do this right even though he didn't know as much as he needed. There were lots of things he could wing comfortably; however, delivering his child wasn't one of them. Then again, he'd never expected he would have to.
"Okay, let's do this," he said, taking a deep breath. "Then you can rest." He looked at her face, wondering whether she were up to the home stretch. Although he couldn't be sure, it did seem more of her brilliance had faded, worrying him that much more. Could she take this? Like there was another choice.
Her body stiffened as the pain rippled through her, and each new breath was a labored gasp that came out wheezy and week, threatening to be the last. Still, in the face of such pain, Shoshan refused to give in. Every fiber of her being tensed. What if, at this last instant, something went drastically wrong for both Shoshan and the baby? It sometimes happened in routine deliveries, and this was anything but, raising the possibility of calamity exponentially.
Yet even as the fear wrapped its icy fingers around him, the baby head had finally emerged, free of the birth canal, and Robbie did what he could to guide the shoulders free.
Robbie deliberately forced himself not to think or feel until the baby was free and breathing on its own. Then he could risk letting the emotions wash over him, not before.
As he lifted the baby, he saw Shoshan watching, her eyes glimmering with awe. She barely moved.
"She's beautiful." Shoshan's voice was weak but full of emotion, as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing, and in that moment, Robbie realized he held a daughter, an amazingly perfect daughter.
"Can you help me?" he asked. "I need you to hold her for a minute."
Shoshan nodded and reached out, ready to take the child even as the first tiny scream erupted, filling the room with the sound of new life. She kicked her small feet, seeming to have her first temper fit and waved her balled-up fists, trying to get someone's attention.
"It's okay, little one," Shoshan whispered, drawing the baby up close to her and nuzzling her forehead with her cheek. "It's going to be just fine."
Robbie looked up at her, worried that no matter what Shoshan said, things wouldn't be. She looked weak and still bleeding. How much longer could she do this, and when would her brothers arrive? Would they get here in time?
He clenched his jaw, determined to see to the baby and then get on to helping Shoshan. He might not know what he was doing, but he was going to find a way to make this work, to save her life just as she'd saved the life of his child. He could do no less.
With trembling hands, he pulled the scissors from the first aid kit. Typically, he'd used them to cut gauze into squares and such. He'd definitely never expected to be using them to cut the umbilical cord for his only child. He forced those thoughts away and doused a couple of gauze squares with alcohol to clean the scissors as best he could. In an ideal world, this little girl would have been born in a hospital room where everything was sterile instead of this room that had been his only choice. Still, this was all he had, and he needed to get through this.
Tossing the gauze into the trash, he turned his attention to the baby and quickly cut through the cord. He'd barely finished when he heard Shoshan groan again. Her breathing was erratic, just as it had been during the delivery. She was still in pain, and her body still thought it was in labor. That's when he remembered the placenta.
"You need to push again," he said quietly, easing the baby from her hands, worried that in her pain she might accidently drop her, not that anyone could blame her. She hadn't known what it would be like to go through a very human birth, but of all the things to want to experience, why this? Yet here she was.
He stared at the baby, aware he needed to clean her up, but first he had to tend to Shoshan. Uncertain what to do, he looked around the room and decided to temporarily swaddle the baby in the bedspread of the other bed. Yes, it was large, and his fingers fumbled amid the fabric, but in the end, he'd managed to quiet the newborn and placate her with the comforter wrapped tightly enough around her body so she drifted back to sleep.
He turned back to Shoshan and leaned over as she pushed a few times to expel the placenta, which he threw in the trash, figuring he'd deal with it later, like so many other things these days.
He looked back over at the baby, and he was grateful she was still sleeping quietly. Then he looked back at Shoshan--and that's when all hell broke loose. He'd been so focused on everything else that needed to be done he hadn't notice
d her drift into unconsciousness, the light of her form all but nonexistent. He rushed to Shoshan's side and took her hand in his, squeezing to try to rouse her.
"Shoshan, I need you wake up!" He tried to keep his voice calm though the panic was wrapping itself around his body and squeezing the life out of him. Was she dead?
Even though his voice was loud, she didn't move. With his free hand, he shook her arm.
"Shoshan, can you hear me?"
She didn't move, and he could feel his world spinning. he had to do something. He just wished he knew what.
Dallas looked at him in horror. What had he destroyed?
Chapter Seventeen
Shaken, Robbie paced the room. "Think! You've got to do something, or she's going to die."
Yet no matter how much that thought destroyed him, he didn't have any options. Even if he took her to a hospital, it wasn't like they would be equipped to deal with an alien.
Robbie made one last quick circle around the room before striding back to her and shaking Shoshan's arm even harder. She'd saved his child. Now it was his turn to save her
"Shoshan, you've got to wake up. You have to tell me what to do."
She looked too close to dead for comfort. Was she? Robbie scrutinized her appearance all the more. How would he know? Shoshan might have shared many things with him, but the physical differences between their species hadn't been one of them, and while he might know a thing or two about cattle, aliens were another story, one he hadn't believed in until he'd met Shoshan. Hell, he knew their bodies weren't bound by the same physical laws. No human could reach inside her stomach and touch a baby. No, Shoshan's form was probably infinitely more complex than a human body ever could be, and he just didn't have a clue what to do about her wounds. He needed help, and he needed it fast.
"Shoshan, wake up!" He was practically yelling. Without realizing it, he was jerking her harder than it should've been hard enough so that she should've woken up – – if she were going to. It didn't work.