muses_w_remotes || 7.16 Ransom
7.16. "You think you're suffering right now? Huh? You got no idea what suffering is."
| Ransom
[Follows THIS]
Labor Suite. Phonetically, it was a fucking oxymoron. There was nothing sweet about this experience. Ali leaned over against the side of the bed with a heavy, exhausted moan. “Get it out,” she begged the midwife. “Just get it fucking out! I’ll pay you. I’m rich now, apparently. Cut it out. Just… anything!” For the last half hour, she had refused to sit or lie. She wanted to stand, even if she felt like she was going to fall over. Twenty eight hours. She had been in labor for twenty eight hours. She had been in excruciating waves of pain for twenty right hours. If one more person told her to breathe, she was going to strangle them with her IV line.
“Ali, honey, we need to get you up into the stirrups to check the progress. We should be just about there now. Are you ready to start pushing?” the midwife coaxed gently.
Ali made a sound that came out like she was trying to imitate an injured animal. A pained, strained, and uncomfortable whine that eased right into the words when she started to talk. “No, fuck you! There is no ‘we’ here! There is me! You have not been trying to spit this twelve pound thing out of your vagina for twenty eight hours! Can’t you see I’m ready? I’ve been fucking ready for the last, oh, eight months! I want it out!” Another contraction was starting and she shook her sweaty head against her arm on the bed. It didn’t even feel like that long ago since the last one and she wanted to just curl up in a small ball of misery without all these people gawking at her. “I can’t do this anymore! I’ve had enough! It’s someone else’s fucking turn!”
Max was by her side again in a heartbeat and grabbed her hand. “I’d do this for you if I could, Al. You know I would,” he promised, shooting the midwife an apologetic look. He didn’t get a chance to say anything, however. Ali was soon squeezing his hand with such a force he cried out in pain and folded to his knees with a small squeak.
“I hate you for being born the sibling with the dick!” Ali growled. “That was supposed to be my seat, you bastard!” She was forced to stop screaming at her brother and resort to the Lamaze breathing she learned as the contraction seemed to last for what felt like an hour. Her damp hair was piled up on top of her head in a tangled mess and the lavender gown she was sporting was drenched all up the back with sweat. She tried to envisage being in a hot, relaxing bath with a glass of wine and candles, but the fantasy eluded her. All she could feel was pain and a sharp vengeance towards any member of the male species; gay, straight or undecided.
“We need to get her on the bed,” the midwife instructed and Ali found herself with a posse of nurses swarming her. She was too exhausted to protest now and it all felt like a blur. At some point she realised she must’ve let go of Max’s hand because he was soon taking it again now that she was sitting up on the bed and her legs being introduced into the stirrups. It was every bit as awful as she imagined and she swore at this moment she was never ever having sex with a penis again.
With another weak growl at her brother to stay at the head of the bed, Ali tried to focus on the instructions being fed to her but all she wanted to do was sleep. “I can’t…” she sobbed, rolling her head tiredly against the puffed pillows behind her. She vaguely heard someone say she was ready and warned her to prepare to push. She had no energy left! How the hell was she supposed to push with no energy?
But Max’s hands were still gripped tightly around hers and he leaned close to kiss her temple. “You can, sis. You can do this. Remember the time you chased me halfway around the neighbourhood just to give me a wedgie when I gave your Barbie a makeover? You kept going for hours then. Or the time we had a pillow fight till we both puked? You never give up, Al. Don’t make this be the first time. I’m not above giving my screaming sister a noogie to get my way,” he warned and smiled at her, shaking her hand for emphasis.
“Okay, at the count of ten, Ali, I want you to give us one big push with everything you have. We’re almost there now,” the doctor urged.
Where the fuck had the doctor come from?! Ali hadn’t seemed him in hours and all of a sudden he was there running the show? Fucking arsehole. It was like a movie star turning up for a rock concert and only getting paid to play the encore. This sucked. But then he was saying ten, and Max was still murmuring soft words of encouragement into her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut and with a loud, exerted squeal, pushed as hard as she could, feeling like her knees were now lodged somewhere up near her ears.
“She’s crowning. We’re nearly there, Ali. Just a little longer,” the doctor said, sounding far too calm to be soothing in any way, shape or form.
Ali opened her eyes and glared down at him. “You didn’t get it out! Get it out!” she screeched, struggling to try and get up. Luckily her legs were busy in the stirrups, because right now she wanted to connect her foot with the doctor’s groin just to make herself feel better. Max wiped over her face with a cold cloth and Ali lost her steam again. Her heart felt like it was about to pound out of her chest and throw itself over the side of the bed. Her mind was half in a panic and half numb. It was a miracle she wasn’t talking in tongues. But then the pain was back and a scared sob choked her up again. Was this hell ever going to end?
“Another big push on the count of three, Ali. This is it. Give it everything you’ve got,” the doctor told her. “One… two… three!” Everything she’s got. She could do that. She had a lot, too. With her hand almost crushing her brother’s, Ali thought of James and how angry she was over his death. Then of Izzy and how lonely she felt without her best friend’s presence, especially now. She thought of her work and her job, and how upset she had been to learn she was pregnant. Then she thought of Mark and how much she had loved him for all those years; of the good times and the bad times that finally ended with them making this baby together that was going to be here whether she was ready or not, with or without Mark Campbell. Then finally she thought of the soothing warmth of a hand taking hers in the ambulance… a kindness of a stranger she didn’t know from a slap in the face and how he had comforted her right at a moment she thought she was going to truly break this time and made sure the terrified loneliness didn’t swallow her.
And she pushed. She pushed for dear life with a strength she doubted she had left in her mind, body and soul. Until there was a sharp infant cry that tore her back to reality, forcing her to open her eyes and found a slimy looking ball of fleshy, bloody baby in the doctor’s hands between her legs. The middle aged man in scrubs smiled brightly up at her. “Congratulations, Ali. It’s a baby girl.”
“T-That came out of me?” Ali whimpered in a tiny, choked voice. Max burst into tears and hugged her head with his arm. Ali’s dark eyes never left the baby as she was swaddled in a pink blanket and soon placed in Ali’s arms. Ali stared down at the warm bundle, frozen as she tried to process it all. The tiny head had a sweeping of blond hair and the small hand scrunched up against the little chin had five perfect fingers still curled up in a fist no bigger than a strawberry.
Ali’s fingertips brushed over the baby’s forehead as a flood of emotion splashed over her. She couldn’t stop the tears as they spilled down her cheeks onto the folds of the pink blanket. Then she cried.
She cried like she had never cried in her entire life.
- agentfraser, isabelowens & paramedically referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,452
| Ransom
[Follows THIS]
Labor Suite. Phonetically, it was a fucking oxymoron. There was nothing sweet about this experience. Ali leaned over against the side of the bed with a heavy, exhausted moan. “Get it out,” she begged the midwife. “Just get it fucking out! I’ll pay you. I’m rich now, apparently. Cut it out. Just… anything!” For the last half hour, she had refused to sit or lie. She wanted to stand, even if she felt like she was going to fall over. Twenty eight hours. She had been in labor for twenty eight hours. She had been in excruciating waves of pain for twenty right hours. If one more person told her to breathe, she was going to strangle them with her IV line.
“Ali, honey, we need to get you up into the stirrups to check the progress. We should be just about there now. Are you ready to start pushing?” the midwife coaxed gently.
Ali made a sound that came out like she was trying to imitate an injured animal. A pained, strained, and uncomfortable whine that eased right into the words when she started to talk. “No, fuck you! There is no ‘we’ here! There is me! You have not been trying to spit this twelve pound thing out of your vagina for twenty eight hours! Can’t you see I’m ready? I’ve been fucking ready for the last, oh, eight months! I want it out!” Another contraction was starting and she shook her sweaty head against her arm on the bed. It didn’t even feel like that long ago since the last one and she wanted to just curl up in a small ball of misery without all these people gawking at her. “I can’t do this anymore! I’ve had enough! It’s someone else’s fucking turn!”
Max was by her side again in a heartbeat and grabbed her hand. “I’d do this for you if I could, Al. You know I would,” he promised, shooting the midwife an apologetic look. He didn’t get a chance to say anything, however. Ali was soon squeezing his hand with such a force he cried out in pain and folded to his knees with a small squeak.
“I hate you for being born the sibling with the dick!” Ali growled. “That was supposed to be my seat, you bastard!” She was forced to stop screaming at her brother and resort to the Lamaze breathing she learned as the contraction seemed to last for what felt like an hour. Her damp hair was piled up on top of her head in a tangled mess and the lavender gown she was sporting was drenched all up the back with sweat. She tried to envisage being in a hot, relaxing bath with a glass of wine and candles, but the fantasy eluded her. All she could feel was pain and a sharp vengeance towards any member of the male species; gay, straight or undecided.
“We need to get her on the bed,” the midwife instructed and Ali found herself with a posse of nurses swarming her. She was too exhausted to protest now and it all felt like a blur. At some point she realised she must’ve let go of Max’s hand because he was soon taking it again now that she was sitting up on the bed and her legs being introduced into the stirrups. It was every bit as awful as she imagined and she swore at this moment she was never ever having sex with a penis again.
With another weak growl at her brother to stay at the head of the bed, Ali tried to focus on the instructions being fed to her but all she wanted to do was sleep. “I can’t…” she sobbed, rolling her head tiredly against the puffed pillows behind her. She vaguely heard someone say she was ready and warned her to prepare to push. She had no energy left! How the hell was she supposed to push with no energy?
But Max’s hands were still gripped tightly around hers and he leaned close to kiss her temple. “You can, sis. You can do this. Remember the time you chased me halfway around the neighbourhood just to give me a wedgie when I gave your Barbie a makeover? You kept going for hours then. Or the time we had a pillow fight till we both puked? You never give up, Al. Don’t make this be the first time. I’m not above giving my screaming sister a noogie to get my way,” he warned and smiled at her, shaking her hand for emphasis.
“Okay, at the count of ten, Ali, I want you to give us one big push with everything you have. We’re almost there now,” the doctor urged.
Where the fuck had the doctor come from?! Ali hadn’t seemed him in hours and all of a sudden he was there running the show? Fucking arsehole. It was like a movie star turning up for a rock concert and only getting paid to play the encore. This sucked. But then he was saying ten, and Max was still murmuring soft words of encouragement into her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut and with a loud, exerted squeal, pushed as hard as she could, feeling like her knees were now lodged somewhere up near her ears.
“She’s crowning. We’re nearly there, Ali. Just a little longer,” the doctor said, sounding far too calm to be soothing in any way, shape or form.
Ali opened her eyes and glared down at him. “You didn’t get it out! Get it out!” she screeched, struggling to try and get up. Luckily her legs were busy in the stirrups, because right now she wanted to connect her foot with the doctor’s groin just to make herself feel better. Max wiped over her face with a cold cloth and Ali lost her steam again. Her heart felt like it was about to pound out of her chest and throw itself over the side of the bed. Her mind was half in a panic and half numb. It was a miracle she wasn’t talking in tongues. But then the pain was back and a scared sob choked her up again. Was this hell ever going to end?
“Another big push on the count of three, Ali. This is it. Give it everything you’ve got,” the doctor told her. “One… two… three!” Everything she’s got. She could do that. She had a lot, too. With her hand almost crushing her brother’s, Ali thought of James and how angry she was over his death. Then of Izzy and how lonely she felt without her best friend’s presence, especially now. She thought of her work and her job, and how upset she had been to learn she was pregnant. Then she thought of Mark and how much she had loved him for all those years; of the good times and the bad times that finally ended with them making this baby together that was going to be here whether she was ready or not, with or without Mark Campbell. Then finally she thought of the soothing warmth of a hand taking hers in the ambulance… a kindness of a stranger she didn’t know from a slap in the face and how he had comforted her right at a moment she thought she was going to truly break this time and made sure the terrified loneliness didn’t swallow her.
And she pushed. She pushed for dear life with a strength she doubted she had left in her mind, body and soul. Until there was a sharp infant cry that tore her back to reality, forcing her to open her eyes and found a slimy looking ball of fleshy, bloody baby in the doctor’s hands between her legs. The middle aged man in scrubs smiled brightly up at her. “Congratulations, Ali. It’s a baby girl.”
“T-That came out of me?” Ali whimpered in a tiny, choked voice. Max burst into tears and hugged her head with his arm. Ali’s dark eyes never left the baby as she was swaddled in a pink blanket and soon placed in Ali’s arms. Ali stared down at the warm bundle, frozen as she tried to process it all. The tiny head had a sweeping of blond hair and the small hand scrunched up against the little chin had five perfect fingers still curled up in a fist no bigger than a strawberry.
Ali’s fingertips brushed over the baby’s forehead as a flood of emotion splashed over her. She couldn’t stop the tears as they spilled down her cheeks onto the folds of the pink blanket. Then she cried.
She cried like she had never cried in her entire life.
- agentfraser, isabelowens & paramedically referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,452