Merlin's Academy for Excellence
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     We Can Make It If We Try (One-shot)

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    Christian Sanderson

    Posts : 18

    PostSubject: We Can Make It If We Try (One-shot)   Sun Jan 04, 2015 7:20 pm

    Bloody halls, all look the same. Racing through the prestine, white pathways, Christian knew he would be hopelessly lost, under normal circumstances. But he'd been here before, more times than he'd like to admit. All the arrangements had been made, for them to be in this particular room, when this happened. That way, he figured, it was one less thing to worry about.

    And he'd been right to worry. Someone had called in sick at the shop, and he'd had to take on an extra shift. It should have been fine...really. They were two weeks away from the big day, and the doctors told them not to stress. To go about their normal lives. So, he'd taken the shift. When he'd gotten a Patronus message an hour in, saying that Alysha had gone into labor early.

    Rounding the last corner, he all but slid into the doorway of the small room. To the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen...

    The room was dimmed, just like their assigned Mediwitch said it would be. She'd been the one in charge of arranging all the details for when the time came. It was dark outside the window, which gave the room that extra close feeling. Instead of stifling, though, everything had a hint of soothing. Scents of lavendar, a quiet tune in the background, even the air was chilled to a comfortable temperature. Everything, they'd said, to make the process easier for the pair of them.

    Honestly, Christian could give a rats arse about all that. But they'd assured him that it would be best for the mom-to-be. So he'd gone along with it.

    Laying in the bed, propped up on pillows, and dressing in that silly gown they always made her wear here, was the love of his life. She was covered in sweat, her hair sticking in places, and she had no makeup. But she was perfect. Her hands were fisted in the sheets on either side of her, as her jaw clenched hard, her breath heaving.

    Contraction, he noted. They'd been told about this. He'd read books...that's what he was supposed to do...right? For a moment, he was frozen to the spot, feeling helpless in the face of her pain. In the middle of the room, with only a strange witch off to her side, murmuring quiet words of encouragement, Alysha looked so small.

    Her eyes rose then, as she took in deep breaths, her body relaxing a bit. When they met his...he felt like his heart would beat right out of his chest. His feet took him, if quick strides, to her side, his hand slipping into one of hers. Bending down to plant a kiss on her forehead, his lips brushed against her skin.

    "I'm sorry I wasn't there. But I came as soon as I could." Today was supposed to be the day that they went to buy a crib together. It was late, they knew, but there just hadn't been time. Christian had even asked off the day at the music shop, but...well, it was in the past.

    And this was now.

    "I don't care, Chris." Alysha's eyes clenched in a shock of pain. Nothing big, by the looks of it. She shifted her body, and Christian took the hint that her back was killing her. It usually did.

    Standing, he motioned for her to take both his hands. "Sit up, love. The nurse said to try to keep you relax." With her in a semi-sitting position, his hands moved to her lower back, trying to relieve some of the tension. He was perched slightly on the bed next to her, and rested his head over her shoulder. "I love you so much, Aly. You know that?"

    "Stuff it, you," she breathed out, a smile in her voice. "See if I let you anywhere near me for a year." She groaned in appreciation as he found a particularly painful area, soothing it out. "Make that a decade, if you're lucky."

    Snaking a hand around her hip, to the roundness of her belly, Christian looked down her body. "I thought you said he'd be worth it."

    Her head having fallen back onto his shoulder, the girl in his arms turned her face up to him. "And who said it would be a boy, Mr. Sanderson?"

    "Well," he put on a stern face, for show, "I can expect nothing less than an heir to the family fortune."

    They only lasted a few seconds before bursting into laughter. As they quieted, and Christian helped her rest back on the bed, he pulled up a high chair to sit as close as possible. Another contraction took her then, and he gripped onto her hand, as she did his, snaking his other through her damp locks, to ground her. "You've got this, babe. Just a few more seconds."

    And so it went, for the next seven hours. Both their parents, and a few friends, arrived at the hospital periodically, although they all stayed in the waiting room, for the most part. Alysha wanted to see them, of course, but now was not the time for chatting. It was nearly three in the morning when the Mediwitch turned to the young couple and said, "Okay, this is it," in that oh, so comforting voice.

    Christian could feel ice run down his spine. He'd never really believed in fate, but...he'd once heard his gran say something like, "Someone walking over your grave." Well, it made him think of that. But just as quick as it came, it was gone, and he was pulled into the now by the shear force of Alysha's grip on his hand, and the way her whole body was tensing next to his.

    He murmured words of encouragement, though he couldn't, for the life of him, remember what they were afterward. One more strong push, and they heard it.

    The sound of crying.

    I'm a dad...

    His world seemed to tunnel then, with the shock of realization, and the awe of this new world he was living in. Forcing himself to focus, on Alysha, on the nurse who was walking away with the baby, to a quiet corner to clean him off, Christian didn't know how to put his feelings into words. His brow furrowed as he tried not to cry.

    "He's here, Aly. You've done it. It's over," he whispered to her, kissing her softly. Looking down at the girl he'd loved for, what felt like, his whole life. She looked exausted, and rightly so. Paler than normal, Christian couldn't imagine what she must be feeling now. Kissing her cheeks, her forehead, basically anywhere he could reach, he tried to show her how much he loved her. For being his, for going through all of this. For never giving up on him, on their baby.

    She could have, and he knew that. There had never been a question for him, since the moment she'd told him the news. Not one day, not one hour, did he question whether he wanted this girl by his side, forever. Ever since that stupid studying partners fiasco in second year, when they thought they may kill each other, he'd known there was no one else for him.

    "Would you like to see your daughter now?"

    Daughter. He could see the joy in Alysha's eyes, to match his own wonder. Yes, he'd said 'son' over and over again, as if there was no question. But in that moment...nothing could be more perfect.

    Turning towards the woman, she laid the tiny bundle in his arms. She's so light, he thought. Is that okay? Is there something wrong? Did we... All his questions were set aside when the sleeping form, with it's soft tuft of dark hair, opened her eyes. Tears fell onto the blanket wrapped around her small form, but Christian wouldn't move an inch to wipe them away.

    "Hi," he whispered, his voice catching on the simple syllable. She was perfect.

    Lost in his own world, it wasn't until a soft beeping permiated his thoughts. "Someone get in here, quick! We're losing her."

    In what felt like seconds, there were at least five strangers in the room with him, all nurses and healers alike. Confused, Christian looked around at each of them. She's fine, she's perfect. What are they talking about? It wasn't until they buffered him to the side that he realized who they were talking about.


    A war was raging inside of him. The boy he was, hours, months ago, wanted to run to her side. To do something, to help her. To breathe life into her if he must. He didn't know what was happening, but no one looked happy. "No..." the soft word escaped him as he sunk into a chair.

    Soft sounds came from the bundle in his arms and he looked down. The girl...his girl, had grabbed onto one of his fingers that had been resting on her chest. The deep blue eyes looked up at him, and she smiled. His world broke then, as he tried to return her smile, shakey as it was. "It's going to be alright, baby girl. They'll get mom all better. You'll see."

    * * * * *

    It was a perfect, sunny day, when they buried her. Alysha deserved nothing less. Oh, everyone came, and gave their condolences. And Christian shook hands, and nodded, and played the controlled, stoic widower. Because that was what he was, in his heart. She'd refused to marry him, when he'd asked. Not because she didn't love him, but because she wanted their marriage, and his proposal, to be about them. Not about the baby.

    And now she's gone. And he never got to marry her. She never got to hold Amelia. Or hear her laugh. Or see any of the million things their girl would do in her life.

    "Excuse me," he whispered to the random guest in front of him. Stepping away from the small crowd that was gathered outside the church, he let his feet take control.

    Before he knew it, he was standing in front of freshly turned soil. "Alysha Montgomery" the stone read. Under the dates, in eligant scroll work, read, "To the days we had, and the life to come". It hadn't made sense to some people, but Christian had insisted.

    Kneeling in the grass, his head hung in his hands and he let himself cry. Finally. "I'm sorry. Alysha, I'm sorry. Please...just, please..."

    He didn't know, for the life of him, what he was asking for. For her not to be laying there? For her heart to have continued on? For her to have changed his mind about keeping the baby? Weak heart, that's what they'd said. Even with as short of a birth as what Alysha'd been through, they said it was a wonder she'd lasted that long. Somehow, she'd held on.

    For our baby.

    A cry sounded across the graveyard, from the church. Only a week now, and Christian knew it like he knew his own voice. Amelia. She was his world now, and he had to accept that.

    Standing on shakey legs, he moved up to the gravestone. "I'll take care of her, Aly. You know I will. I'll...I'll make you proud." He leaned down, and placed a soft kiss to the cold stone.

    Wiping the tears from his eyes, he started walking back. To his daughter. To his new life. Just the two of us.
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