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I took a step back, replacing my hand with Bourbon's as the obstetrician took over, talking to them and checking over Rose.
"Is Tatiana really coming?" Aster stepped up next to me, and I could feel both Dante and Coulter watching us.She's gone, she left me, she gave me what I deserved...
I clamped down on my thoughts and shook my head "I don't think so."
"What does that mean?" Aster asked.
"I don't know," was all I could say, the weight of her last ribbon heavy in my pocket. "I don't even know where she is."
Her green eyes darkened with worry. "Is she okay?"
"I'm sure she's fine," Coulter stepped up to us, his pinky finger looping through hers.
"True." She nodded, bringing their hands to clasp to her chest. "She's tough."
The air in the room suddenly shifted, creating a tangible gravity as Rose let out an abrupt gasp. Her heavy breathing quickened and her face contorted with pain as she clutched her protruding stomach, every muscle in her body tensing up.
We all watched in anticipation - a strange mixture of awe and fear - as the seriousness of the moment fell over the room.
It was time.
* * *
Hours later,Rose was in full labor. She was on her back, heaving, the obstetrician at the foot of her bed. "Push, Rose. I know you're tired but you need to keep pushing."
Rose made a screaming, frustrated noise, cinching her fists into the white sheets of her bed.
"You're doing so good," Bourbon, beside her, soothed, a look of concern on his face. "What can I do to help? Should we change the angle of the bed? Tell me what you need and I'll make it happen."
"You can push this baby out for me."
Bourbon swallowed his laugh at the glare she gave him. "Anything but that."
Sighing, she laid her head back, her chest heaving as she whined. "I don't know."
"Honey, it always helps to change positions, why don't you try moving the bed?" One of the nurses asked.
She inhaled a deep breath, then another, trying to control her breathing. Then she nodded. "Yes, okay. Change the position of the bed. I want my back upward."
Bourbon immediately complied, hitting the button. She groaned in pain and clutched at her stomach, and Bourbon faltered, but she nodded and waved her hand, encouraging him. "It's okay. Keep going."
They moved her bed, her positiononthe bed. They fed her ice chips and wiped a damp cloth across her forehead. The minutes ticked onward, as her labor grew more and more intense. She pushed and pushed, until finally, she threw her hands upwards. "I can't do this!"
"Of course you can," Aster said, wiping the damp cloth across her forehead. "You can do anything."
"Baby, you're so strong." Bourbon kissed the top of her head. "So strong."
She leaned against him, squeezing her eyes shut, a tear trailing down it. "I don't know..."
"Just listen to your body." The obstetrician nodded, clasping Rose's knees with a heartening squeeze. "You're doing so good."
"I can't." Rose shook her head. "I don't think I can. Maybe we can do a C-section?"
"Sweetheart," I walked to Rose and her eyes met mine. "You've gone through much harder than this, remember?" She didn't tear her gaze from mine, so I continued, "Remember how cold it was in Russia? And how strong and brave you were?" She nodded, tears tracking down her face, her eyes clouded as if she was remembering. "You escaped because you were strong and courageous. And I know you can do this too. Your baby might be stubborn," at this, she gave a tired half-laugh, "but you're strong enough to take it. To do what needs to be done."
Our eyes stayed locked. Our mutual suffering in Russia had bonded us, and the reminder of how she'd survived that seemed to embolden her.
"Yes. I did live through Russia." She nodded, determination filling her gaze. "Okay," she breathed in and out.