Disclaimer: The Darren Shan Saga/Cirque Du Freak and it's plot as well as characters belong to Darren Shan. The real, male one, not my cheesy female one.
A/N: I think it goes without saying that I've never been pregnant, and therefore, have never delivered a baby. So I have no idea what happens. I do, however, understand that it takes some time after your water breaks to actually push out the kid. Anyway, if you see any obvious inconsistencies, don't hesitate to tell me.
Chapter 14: Delivery, Deliverance
We came to a halt before our enemies. They had their weapons at the ready. Vancha's hand twitched at his side. Then he pushed me behind him protectively. Any other time I would have fought back, offended at the implication of his actions. But at the moment I wasn't feeling too good. I felt weary, and fatigued, and my breathing was way too quick, not to mention erratic and irregular. Nobody noticed, taking into consideration the fact that we jogged all the way here.
I placed my hand on my abdomen, trying to calm myself down. My baby was now kicking me rigorously, as if doing some soccer practice. It didn't hurt, of course, but it made me a little worried. It wasn't normal.
A movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, snapping me out of my worry. Gannen stood before Steve protectively, his eyes boring into Vancha. Vancha stared straight back. Then he took a step forward, body tensed and muscles coiled, ready to spring at any moment.
"Greetings, brother," Gannen said warily.
"Greetings," Vancha replied.
My eyesight blurred for a second, before focusing once again. What was going on? I rubbed my eyes, trying to remove imaginary vision-hindering substances, missing the rest of the conversation going on around me. As my eyes refocused, I caught sight of Steve. He looked normal, like always - hateful, vengeful, bitter. He glared straight at me, but for a second I could have sworn I saw confusion and worry cross his features, just like I did before. He was watching the position of my hand placed on my abdomen, and his frown deepened each time I drew in a shaky breath.
That made me think back on all the conflicting messages Steve had sent my way. He said he hated me, but what the hell was that after the football match? And before it, for that matter? Why save me after getting all angry about some human impregnating me? Why the spontaneous gentle acts between all the rage and hatred? I started to analyse each of them carefully, right there on this pivotal moment, on the battlefield.
And came to one single conclusion:
Steve's bipolar.
Not that it was something I had yet to realise. I've always known he was, even as a kid. But now, I
really know. And that would explain why he could rape me, then let me go, then shoot me and let me fall down a garbage chute. Then get me pregnant and claim he's not the dad.
Wait. Does it?
My mind was going off in all directions now. I could hardly concentrate on one single matter. My stomach started to feel heavier and heavier. Was I dying?
Shaking my head, I managed to pull myself together long enough to focus on my difficult situation, and the battle heating up around me. I realised Vancha and Gannen were just staring at each other, both hesitant to make the first move.
Steve glared at me, waiting. Then, without warning, he dashed forward, swinging his sword at me. He made the first strike of the battle that will decide the outcome of our future, or so we thought anyway. Vancha slapped it away with the palm of his hand, then moved to block his brother's blow, a follow-up of his Lord's. It had started. Vancha, during the interim of their many attacks, reached out a hand and shoved me away, then blocked Steve and Gannen from getting to me.
The battle proceeded at superhuman speed. I could only catch quick flashes of it - Steve nicking Vancha's arm, and Vancha continuously pushing back Gannen's blade. I bit my lip to stop myself from rushing forward to assist my fellow Prince who I'd come to think of as a brother.
Then I heard someone whisper behind me and I whirled around. Mr Tiny waved at me gleefully, then proceeded to continue whispering to Evanna. She looked weary. At first, I was mesmerised by his happy expression. He was truly enjoying this. The fight between long-lost brothers, the impending doom of our whole universe. Something started to build inside me. I turned away, disgusted.
Watching the scene before me unfold, I felt so utterly stupid. So dumb. What were we doing? Fighting. Fighting without a cause. It all just got to me. The uselessness of what we were doing. The utter lack of meaning of our being here. My already shaken conviction disappeared entirely. I took up my sword and threw it to the floor, the noise of it making contact with the ground was minimal, but it succeeded in attracting the attention of the brothers who had been fighting. Steve, who had stepped back and been staring at me, watched me carefully, surprised and wary of what I was doing. He suspected a trick. I didn't turn around, but I suspected that I had Mr Tiny and Evanna's eyes were on me as well.
"I've had enough," I told them. "I quit," I said, and turned my back on my fellow team-mate and mortal enemies. I put one foot before the other, pain and discomfort racking my body. All I wanted to do was lie down. At the corner of my eye, I could see Mr Tiny and Evanna looking at me in surprise, or in Mr Tiny's case, outraged shock.
I felt a fingers wrap around my arm and spin me around to face an angry Steve. Vancha just stared dumbfounded at the two of us, too numb to acknowledge his usual protectiveness of the vulnerable pregnant girl.
"What the hell do you mean you quit?" he growled quietly, menacingly. "You can't just quit!"
"Well, I just did, alright!" I shrieked back at him. I winced inwardly at the shrill sound of my voice. Obviously, I had descended into hysterics without noticing it. He took a step back, surprised at my responding outlash. He recovered quickly, pulling me closer.
"No, you can't. I won't let you," He said, and drew his knife. Peculiar maternal instincts shot through my body, and I lurched forward, surprising Steve. He stepped away from me. I let out an animalistic growl, glaring at him. He approached me slowly, gripping his knife tightly. Then he charged. My vision went blank. Then all of a sudden, my knees gave way completely beneath me and I fell, reaching out blindly and dragging the Lord of the Vampaneze down with me.
I heard metal clatter to the ground and concerned shouts. I heard someone gasping for air and wondered in a daze if Vancha was okay. Then I realised it was me. Charna's guts, why did I feel so dizzy? Someone held up my head.
"Darren," A female voice said to me gently. "Darren, it's time," The ugly face of Evanna swam into view. Behind her was a beautiful black velvet of darkness, dotted with bright twinkly lights. I admired them in my dazed condition.
"What?" was Vancha's shocked exclaim. "
Now?"
"Yes. Her water broke a while ago, but she felt it unnecessary to warn you. Foolish girl," Her words were harsh, but I could hear concern in her voice. "Vancha, go back to the theatre and warn them of what is happening. And while you're there, tell them to halt this foolishness,"
He frowned, eyeing his brother and Steve who was sitting up beside me, having fallen with me when I collapsed. "But..."
"Go!" Evanna roared. Vancha stared at her fearfully before leaving hastily. The witch removed my clothes. I protested weakly. "Gannen. Go fetch some hot water."
The vampaneze didn't move. He was intent on protecting his Lord. Evanna's motions on me stopped. She had looked up to glare at the vampaneze.
"Gannen," she said, her voice soft yet deadly. "This is the child of your lord we're talking about. You wish to sacrifice his unborn progeny?"
Gannen hesitated, then I heard his footsteps moving away. That made me wonder. Gannen seemed convinced that this was Steve's child. So why was Steve so indignant about this child having been the product of me and some human?
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted, and I moaned, feeling my lower region do things I didn't really want it to. Then Evanna spoke up again.
"Lower that knife, child," she said. I turned to my side to see Steve brandishing his knife. "This is your child being born here."
"Oh yeah?" he asked. "And how do you know that? What proof do you have that it's mine?"
"For the love of-" I groaned, cutting my own frustrated cry off. "You think I'd be stupid enough to let any other guy violate me after what you did to me? Son of a-" I cut myself off once more, wondering just how much my unborn child could hear and not wanting him to pick up my crude language.
"What are you waiting for, boy?" Mr Tiny said, a low growl emerging from a distance away. "She's completely open! Kill her! Kill her and the world is yours!"
I saw Steve glare in my direction, his mind wrapping tightly around Mr Tiny's words, holding onto it desperately. He was beginning to question his role in this conflict, just as I had. I stared back, and our eyes met. I tried to plead with my eyes. Evanna shifted behind me into a defensive position.
"Steve," I mumbled, praying that I was coherent. "Let's make a deal."
He regarded me cautiously, suspiciously. "What kind of deal?"
"Let me have my kid. Let me have my kid and I'll let you do whatever you want with me after this. You can torture me. Kill me. Throw me in a boiling pot and eat me. Whatever. Please... Please just let our child be born," I pleaded. I saw him twitch at the mention of 'our child', as well as the hesitation in his eyes. I knew that saying this would probably mean the doom of our clan, but the love for my unborn kid far outweighed my loyalty for the clan. Now I knew what they mean when they said motherly love has no bounds. This life that had been growing in me for nine months? Yeah, I was willing to give up my precious clan for it. I was willing to be the cause of an apocalypse. As long as my little one was born.
"Don't do it," Mr Tiny warned. "She's lying to you. Again. She's just going to betray you." Steve looked to the little man in wellies, his expression confused and lost, like a child left behind in a crowded supermarket.
"Please, Steve?" I asked, softly this time. He looked back at me, and I stared into his eyes.
He lifted the knife and advanced on me. Mr Tiny cackled. Evanna growled and hissed like an livid cat. Then Steve did the unthinkable. He threw the knife into the lake. Mr Tiny stopped laughing. I gaped at the Lord of the Vampaneze.
Then he came closer to me, lifted my head, sat down, positioned himself appropriately and placed my head in his lap, propping it up. I stared up at him in surprise. He grinned back down at me, full of confidence again, though I could feel a dark sorrow behind it. He was putting aside his whole reason for living, his oath to kill me, his revenge, just to do this.
"Anything I want?" He grinned wickedly.
I smiled back weakly. "Anything you want."
"Then deal. I always wanted to know what it was like to be a father anyway. Then maybe I'll get why mine left," he shrugged. I regarded him in further surprise. He'd finally accepted it? That this was his child? The hesitant grin on his face told me he didn't. Not completely. But he was starting to.
"He didn't leave," Mr Tiny said quietly. Steve turned away from me to look at the meddler quizzically. "He's always been here, watching over you, guiding you."
"What are you..." Steve trailed off in sudden realisation.
"Yes," Mr Tiny said. "It's me. I'm your father. In fact, all three of you are my children." He said gleefully his gaze shifting from Steve to me, then to Evanna.
I started hyperventilating. Oh God. I was having my brother's baby! Okay, we didn't really know it, but still! My fingers clawed at the ground as I started to fight off a panic attack.
"You're not my father. I had a father!" I shouted in his direction.
"Dermot Shan is not your father. You were a cuckoo's child - both of you. I did my work unknown to your mothers. But rest assured, you're both mine."
"No," Evanna said. "No, you didn't." I looked to my side. The ugly sorceress was pale with rage. "How dare you!" she screamed. I could see her become more wolf than human.
"I didn't break any rules, merely stretched them a little," Mr Tiny responded.
"You created the future with the Lord of the Shadows! You have cast mankind aside for your own foul needs!" Evanna shouted. I rolled further to my side, fearing for my baby's life. Regardless of who the father was, it was still my baby and I loved it beyond anything in the world. Steve's hand tightened around me protectively, but I could see that his action had no thought behind it. His face was blank with shock, his eyes empty.
"Do not cross me on this, daughter," Mr Tiny warned. He turned to Steve, ignoring his wrathful daughter. "So you know the truth, Steve. Join me, son. Together we will rule this world. We will change it as we like. Rid things that oppose us. Starting with..." Mr Tiny's eyes flickered to me. "...that." he finished.
Steve followed Mr Tiny's gaze and looked down at me. The lost, hesitant look was back. Once again I found myself pleading with him silently, staring into his eyes. This wouldn't be an easy choice for him, I knew that. For years he'd wanted a father. When we were younger, he would find substitutes for a father figure. Like Mr Dalton, our English teacher.
"I've always wanted a dad," he said softly, still looking straight at me. I stared back at him worriedly. "That's why I can understand exactly how this kid would feel if I become like you," His lifted his head to stare at Mr Tiny. "So my answer is no. Find some other person to rule the world with you. Darren and I are kind of busy right now." He waved his hand dismissively, mocking Mr Tiny.
I grinned at my ex-best friend, he grinned back at me sort of weakly and took my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine supportively. Our troubles were far from over - There were still too many things unsaid - but it felt like we were one step closer to resolving things.
After a long moment, I looked up to see Evanna and Mr Tiny engaged in a heated staring battle. I looked back and forth between them, worried. Then I heard the yellow wellies stomp away. Evanna sighed a sigh of relief. I felt like giving out a victorious cheer. Unfortunately, the baby chose this moment to make it's appearance remembered. I screamed in pain, shocking both Evanna and Steve.
Then Gannen returned with the water, his footsteps thudding and pounding in my head. I groaned. My senses had gone all haywire. It didn't help that Vancha came back with another flurry of footsteps - Harkat and Debbie. A confused yet worried Andy followed behind them - and protested quite loudly about where exactly - or on what exactly, really - my head rested.
That was all I really remember. For a long time, all I knew was pain. I never knew labour could be so painful. The only thing stopping me from telling them to just kill me right then was that my baby would die too if I did something as stupid as that. I faintly remembered my friends encouraging me in the background, but there wasn't enough space in my mine to register that. All I could think about was the excruciating agony.
I recall that at one point I might have cursed Steve and told him that I hated him. "Why did you do this to me?" I remember a hoarse voice crying out, only to realise it was mine.
I fully expected Steve to remove himself from the scene and stomp off sulking but instead he kissed my forehead, told me he hated me too and said "Keep pushing, honey."
I wanted to hit him.
But I also felt admiration for this unusual display of maturity.
So I just kept pushing, trying to churn my rage and admiration into determination.
It ended about half an hour later.
Thank God. The first indication I got that it was over was the sudden ebbing of pain. It was still very uncomfortable, but I could feel my pain wearing away, being replaced by fatigue.
The other indication? It was the cry. The cry that wailed and permeated the strangely still air as my child took in his first few breaths, and a snip as something was cut.
"It's a boy," Evanna told me, smiling. I smiled back triumphantly. I'd always known he'd be a boy.
"Good job," Steve whispered into my ear, sounding as tired as I felt. That was when I realised that I was still grasping his hand, a trail of blood leaking out from the various scratches I'd made with my fingernails. Though there was less blood than normal, since I'd also cut off the circulation. I released his hand slightly, but he gripped me back harder instead. I squeezed his hand back lightly, my hands were shaky from the whole ordeal.
"Can I see him?" I croaked weakly. Someone bent down beside me and handed me a hastily wrapped, warm, cylindrical thing. As I held the little being who'd lived in me for nine months in my arms, my pain completely faded away. Warmth spread through my body, starting from my arms and reaching all the way down to my toes. "Oh..." I gasped, fresh tears appearing in my eyes at the sight of my tiny miracle.
"He's got my hair," Steve commented lightly, fingering a thin, bloody strand of grey hair on his head.
"Yes, he does," I laughed, a hysterical-sounding sob. I could see my friends and enemies smiling at us, united by the happiness of the moment. It was one of those cheesy, drama-worthy, happy, touching scenes. It wouldn't last of course. "Steve?" I mumbled.
"Yes?" he replied, stroking our little boy's face with his index finger.
"Could you hold him for me?"
"Uh... Sure?" he said hesitantly, probably afraid that he was going to accidentally drop and break the fragile bundle. "Why?" he asked as I passed the baby to him. He cradled it securely with one arm, the other was wrapped around me.
"Because I'm going to pass out soon," I told him.
"Seriously?" he asked me, an amused look on his face.
"Mm-hmm. Pick a good name, 'kay?" I said as the world faded into blackness.
