Phlox allowed herself to be swept up by Jack, crying in pain and worry. She groaned as her whole middle tensed and writhed with what she could only assume were contractions, though she hadn't even experienced Braxton Hicks yet. She dipped her face into the crook of Jack's neck and listened as feet rushed towards them, only to stop upon meeting what could only be Black's blade.
"Jack...Jack...we need to hurry...I can't feel him. He's not moving...it hurts." She simpered. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Jack paused in the dark hallway, his boot scuffing on a large body on the floor. He didn’t have time to contemplate who it was or what the body was doing there. But it did bring his attention to the closet he had dropped in front of. Jack helped Phlox into the closet and eased her to the floor. He was panting, exhausted emotionally and physically already, and he was barely holding himself upright as he collapsed beside Phlox. Still, he wrestled upright to help peel off her blood soaked pants.
The baby would have to be born here.
After removing Phlox’s jeans, Jack removed his jacket and fanned it out onto the floor between Phlox’s legs. He reached for her hand, “squeeze my hand, as hard as possible you feel pain.” He instructed.
Phlox and Jack sat together, worn out and bloodied, both weeping and in pain. Eventually Black snuffed out most of the vampire threat and eventually joined his brother and Phlox, just in time to roll up his sleeves and help Phlox delivery the baby while Jack supported her.
She let out one last sputtered grunt as she felt the baby leave her and though her head was swimming from the pain and blood loss, she still anxiously waited for the cry of her baby which didn't come.
"Is he okay? Why isn't he crying?" She croaked, worried but knowing tears already pricking her waterline. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Jack could’ve passed out with that final push, but it wasn’t lost on Jack that there was silence in the air. No crying, no squawking; Jack couldn’t even hear Blacks breath. His own vision was blurred from injury and blood loss. He tried to strain to see Black, see him holding their baby.
Black was, but he was equally silent, because the baby had been born dead. He was white and squishy, his hair was a brilliant orange, just like his brother. Black supposed he would have dark eyes too, but the baby was born with his eyes closed, so they would never know.
“Black…! Is he ok?” Jack echoed Phlox’s question, he shouted as fear and urgency surged through him.
Black jumped a little when Jack cried out, he looked down at his brother, and Phlox. He wrapped the still baby in the shirt off his back, before carefully placing the baby against Phlox’s breast.
“He…I am so sorry.” Black offered quietly, weakly. His apologies wouldn’t bring him back though.
Everything felt still for a moment, waiting like a bated breath. Phlox had heard Black's apology, she had even understood what he was implying, but the full weight of it didn't reach her until a small, motionless bundle was placed into her arms.
Then it all came crashing down on her at once.
Phlox's breath hiccupped and hitched, her whole body trembling as she raised a hand up to softly touch at the baby's face. His cheeks were round and his head felt full of hair, he was still slick and warm, though, he was undeniably lifeless. Phlox felt a deep, physical ache in her chest, something breaking, as she began choking on sobs that turned into a horrible animal wailing.
"Jack, he's not supposed to be-he can't be!" She cried. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
It took Jack longer to process than Phlox, he saw Black place the babe in Phlox’s arms, he didn’t really register the words Black was saying until Phlox began sobbing. He scrambled up to his feet, peering down at the babe in Phlox’s arms for confirmation. He was motionless, white and quiet, like he was sleeping. Jack could hardly hear anything else, as he pulled Phlox and the babe into his arms, body rocking as he blubbered out his own pained sobs.
The only thing that weighed heavier than the deafening silence of the baby’s birth, was the wails filling that little closet. Jack and Phlox’s sobs were agonizing, and they carried out well beyond the closet actually, Black was sure they could be heard all over New York. He winced and looked away, unable to gaze upon the tragedy.
They carried on like that in the closet for awhile, Jack and Phlox mourning the loss of their child with gut-wrenching sobs as they desperately clung to each other. Phlox wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, it felt like days though it certainly couldn't have been more than just a few hours as the moon and stars still hung high over the skyline, but eventually she found herself in the back of the car with Jack still holding onto her shoulders, simpering and crying just like herself. At some point, she could recall Black suggesting he take them all to the hospital, but she had vehemently protested, not wanting to have doctors poke and prod at her, not wanting Jack to be separated from her.
Not wanting to have her baby taken away from her for good.
Instead, Black agreed to take them home, though he did call one of the few doctor's closely connected to the Society to explain the situation and promised to bring everyone in the next day, giving Phlox and Jack time to grieve.
Once they got home, she somehow made it to her and Jack's bed and she allowed Black to take the baby only long enough to discard his messed shirt and replace it with one of the swaddles that was intended for the baby all along. By the time he was given back to her, she noted how much colder he was and began sobbing all over again.
Some time had passed and Black had long ago said something about stepping out to check on Lilith, though Phlox couldn't quite remember, and her sobs had subsided, though she ached all the same inside.
She held her baby close and pressed a cheek to his cold flesh as if to impart some of her warmth. She traced her fingers softly over his features, hoping to wake him up, but knowing this would be the only chance she'd get to memorize the way he felt, all the slopes and curves of his round face and small button nose.
"Jack... what do we do now?" She asked, voice hoarse. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Black had done his best to tend to and comfort the couple, mostly the former. He was worried that between blood loss and exhaustion, and heartbreak, they would surely die. Neither parent felt very much like being touched in a clinical sense, but Black managed a quick bandage job on Jack’s shoulder and head. That’s to say it was very quick, and borderline lazy. The bandages were loose, the fabric folding and turning up in places. But Jack couldn’t care less. He had been in a fog, very much like Phlox, he felt completely shattered and ashamed. All he could think about was what he should’ve done to prevent this night from ever happening.
He had eased onto the bed beside Phlox, but he was sort of like a ghost, not really there. There was a prolonged silence, partly because Jack couldn’t find it in him to speak, and partly because he didn’t have an answer to her question.
“I…I don’t know.” He began, weakly. Reaching out, his hand found one of hers and held onto it gently. “I think, before anything else, you should rest…You can keep holding him, I won’t let anyone take him…” Jack offered, because he wasn’t sure what else he could offer. He wasn’t thinking especially clear, and after everything, he just wanted Phlox to be able to be with the baby, as long as she needs.
Phlox sat still for a moment longer, holding onto Jack's hand, before sniffling and giving a little nod. She released his hand only so she could lay down on her side, holding their baby close to her still, her nose pressed to his cool cheek.
"I'm so sorry, I'm sorry." Her voice cracked as she whispered to him. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Jack eased down onto his side, to lay behind Phlox. He carefully reached his arm around Phlox and their baby. Jacks eyes were puffy and red, still he was able to squeeze out loose tears as he pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder.
“It was not your fault.” He whispered into her shoulder.
“I would give anything for him to be-I’d give anything for him to be alive.” Phlox quietly hiccuped.
And perhaps she could.
———
((FF))
Phlox eventually fell asleep in Jack’s arms and startled awake what must have been some time later. She frantically felt around in front of her for her baby, worried that Black or anyone else might have slipped him away from her, but her hands stilled when she felt his little bundle resting stilly beside her. She let out a little shaky breath and pulled him back into her arms. He felt stiffer now, definitely colder, but she still pressed her face into his. After a moment, she pat the space beside her and felt the lack of Jack’s presence. She couldn’t remember him leaving, he must have gone while she slept.
The compound was dead silent, which made Phlox think she was perhaps alone. Part of her wondered where Jack could have gone, but the other part of her wandered back to the thought she’d had before she let exhaustion take her.
What if she could give something in exchange for the life of her baby?
Though it was taboo, there were kinds of magic that could bring back the dead. It would be hard to find a magic user with those kinds of capabilities on the street just anywhere, but there was one user who could undoubtedly bring her baby back for the right price and, better yet, Phlox more or less knew where she was at.
Natas Mehtevas.
She was one of Jack’s greatest foes and was notoriously one of the most powerful witches to have walked the earth, past and present. No doubt, Natas would be able to bring Phlox’s baby back, moreover, Phlox was confident Natas would strike a deal with her if only to hold something over Jack.
Herself.
Phlox hesitated for awhile, sitting with the thought and contemplating before deciding she truly would do ANYTHING for her baby.
With a wince and whimper, Phlox rose from the bed, her baby bundled in her arms, and headed for the door.
———
((FF))
No one would pick Phlox up, still wearing clothes bloodied and an eerily quiet baby in her arms, so she walked and walked and walked some more, crossing roads and bridges alike until bare, calloused feet brushed against dirt and wood brush rather than trash and city grime.
She had been told that one didn’t need to quite know where Natas’s witch hut was, all you truly had to do was seek her out and you’d somehow be magicked to her in the woods. That seemed true enough as in reality, she had not walked long enough to end up so far out of the city. In the back of her mind she wondered if it appeared to potential onlookers that she disappeared, she wouldn’t know.
She continued walking until she suddenly found herself slipping down a little embankment of sorts, barely catching herself and keeping upright. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
Whenever the witch hut appeared to people, it was usuallly in the center of a meadow, surrounded on all sides by unusually dense brush, and wildly, spiraling trees. The meadow had no blooming flowers, the grass was overgrown and dry, it you were to cross it barefoot it was sure to cut. The hut itself was small on the outside, all the walls curved, and the roof pointed straight upward. It was sort of picturesque, how you might image a traditional witch hut to look like. On the inside though, it was as large as Natas wanted it to be, all by design with distinct intention. There were never bedrooms for the twin boys, they would lay wherever they were to drop, until they were to be bound to cages. Sometimes she’d make a basement or a room with no door, to hide the cages away; isolation teaches an important lesson. Fauna would have no room either, she was precious, but was not magic and ultimately underserving of anything special from Natas.
The hut could be whatever she wanted, but that doesn’t mean it was nice. Natas was a hun warrior, she didn’t find comfort or function in luxury. The hut wasn’t meant to be inviting, it was meant to validate, if you found yourself here, you are in the worst place you could possibly be. It wasn’t well insulated, whatever weather was happening outside would easily pass through. Natas did keep a wood stove burning during the cold seasons, but it was mostly for show; Natas did not feel cold. The floorboards and the walls, counters and tables, every inch of the hut had varying runes and sigils marked into them. Each one significant and historic.
Inside the hut, the wood stove was burning and its flames illuminated her in the darkness. She knew already that Phlox was coming, with the intention to ask a favor of her.
Natas was elated.
Jack Maniac was a consistent with Natas from the moment he was born, she should have eaten him then but Natas has no regrets. Even as he had buried hundreds of bullets in her over the years; there was’t anything (yet) that she couldn’t rise back from. But having something over him, like a loved one, was a delicious opportunity that she would not pass by.
“Hello?” Phlox called out, voice hoarse from all her wailing hours previous. She clung to her baby as she pressed forward, a heavy anxiety writhing in her gut.
This had to be done. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
With a quick and commanding flick of her wrist, Natas thrust the hut door open, her vision reaching beyond the wide pasture to see Phlox, calling out to her. Her hand was still out reached, before she closed her fingers into a fist and snapped her arm, hand close to to her chest. This motion, pulled Phlox fast to Natas. It probably felt closest to someone grabbing you by the front of your shirt, and yanking you forward hard and fast. Natas didn’t care to handle Phlox with any sort of fragility, and being pulled with this much force would not kill her carelessly. She had pulled the blind woman to her, dropping her abruptly before Natas’s feet.
Natas could observe the bundle in her arms, she could smell that it was a deceased baby. But she still wanted to hear Phlox, ask for her favor out loud.
“Why do you come here?” Natas asked.
Her voice was lower for a woman, deep but still sultry. Despite speaking many languages and not being from America, her accent was muted. Something in her tone was very controlled. Natas was not likely to take Phlox’s hand and touch it to her face, but she did lean down slightly, putting her face near hers. It was the next best gesture Natas could offer, and only because it could intimidate the right blind person. They were already close, when Natas pulled Phlox to her, she pulled her to her feet, there wasn’t a step between them. She expected that even though she was mortal, Phlox could probably smell her, hear her; hear her heart beating. Though the sound of Natas’s heart was a eerily steady one, her heart did not race, it had never raced. Natas had never known fear or excitement that had manifested in such a human way. Something that separated her from her brother, from their mother, and put her closer to…Her Dad.
Phlox’s legs gave way and caved beneath her upon being pulled forward. She was unable to suppress a little whimper, still raw and sore from childbirth, but managed to bite back a fearful quiver of her voice as she spoke.
“I need your help…I need you to help my baby.” She said, voice hoarse but empty of the fear she felt.
She was terrified, to be here, to be asking Natas of all people for help…but for her baby, she would do anything. _________________ Butts n' butts n' butts n' butts.
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