Minnow smiled regretfully, the little jerk. “I know, but it’s too late for that.”
“Don’t die,” he said desperately, hating that there was a stranger in the room while he was feeling so out of control.
Minnow smiled at him, her gaze conveying her affection louder than any words could. “As if you’d allow it, Mister Leduc.”
For a moment it looked like she was going to say something more, but her expression shifted, and she started to push. He stood there in terror, not sure what to do.
The nurse tapped Minnow’s leg almost immediately. “Minnow, stop. We need the doctor. You just hang out right there and think non-pushing thoughts.” Her mouth twisted with chagrin.
The doctor came moments later, as if by magic, and took over from Feng. “Someone’s in a hurry!” the doctor said, her brows high. “Just do what your body wants to do and the rest of us will do anything you want.”
“Just for the record, no matter what you say I refuse to line dance,” Rodrigo said.
“Hard limit?” Minnow gasped out.
“The hardest.”
She chuckled tiredly gazing up at Ro. The two of them looked at each other with adoration. They were so excited about this kid. They’d tried involving him in the naming and the nursery, but the few bits of enthusiasm he’d been able to fake hadn’t been convincing.
Severin couldn’t remember what they’d chosen.
He didn’t belong here.
He moved toward the door, knowing no one would notice him gone. He couldn’t stay and watch her die. He couldn’t stay and watch her live and bring a tragically flawed human into the world. A kid who would suffer – who’d regret he was ever conceived. They were happy because they didn’t know what it was like having genes like his. He’d been stupid and hadn’t been careful enough to prevent his tainted genes from spreading.
“Good job, Minnow. Wow. Three more good pushes and the hard part will be done.”
Severin had made it partway to the door when he looked back. The top of the baby’s head was visible and he stood, transfixed, as Minnow grunted with effort and forced the baby’s head out. His feet rooted to the ground as the rest of the baby was delivered, a scrunchy, goop-covered gremlin with a weirdly rubbery-looking body.
It opened its eyes and looked around with a what-the-fuck-just-happened expression.
A laugh burbled up from Severin’s chest. People were talking. The thing’s slate-gray gaze landed on Severin and fixed on him. The alien was put on Minnow’s belly and he moved so he could watch the two of them look at each other. He’d expected the typical movie crying baby thing, but it just checked out its mother with curiosity.
A weird, calm excitement flooded through him, followed by the worst terror he’d ever known. The baby was so small. So many things could happen. Rodrigo was crouched down, watching from close, stroking careful fingers over the kid’s thatch of dark, wet hair. A tiny hand stretched, spider-like, the fingers seeming strangely long. Tiny nails on the end of each finger. All the bits in the right places.
Severin realized his face was wet. He watched Rodrigo kiss Minnow, the baby making the whole scene like a Hallmark card. Perfect. His people in one place.
Happy. Alive.
The baby too fragile. Adorable in its ugliness.
He wandered into the hall laughing.
*
They were asleep.
His submissives curled around their baby. The dogs guarded them from the floor.
Severin watched over them all, afraid to sleep. The baby’s mouth moved instinctively at Minnow’s breast, the child having nodded off while nursing. Probably needed a diaper change, but sleep was hard to come by.
He wished he could paint. Photographs were good, but their impartiality never saw what he saw.
Frog stirred, and Severin prepared himself to take him away, but he settled again. A goofy smile crossed the sleeping kid’s face and Severin wondered what he was dreaming about. Maybe something deep, like the meaning of the universe – maybe it was a joke only a baby could get and people forgot it as they got older.
Frog was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him.
Minnow and Rodrigo kept insisting the baby’s name was something else – Otis? Oliver? Started with an O. He’d make an effort to remember eventually.