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“Are you sure about this, babes?” Ava asked, brow wrinkling as her girlfriend tied her hair back with a ribbon.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Sara said with a small grin, lightly resting her hand on her stomach. “I’ve got a month left. Besides, I’m not really doing anything except bossing them around.” Sara tossed her head over her shoulder, towards where Charlie and Zari were arguing about corsets and head coverings, and Nate and Ray were tossing a stylish cane back and forth. “We’ll be in and out, I promise. And we’ll bring the fugitive back to the Bureau for you to take care of before the day is out.”
Ava placed a chaste kiss on Sara’s lips. “Please be careful, babe.”
Sara rolled her eyes playful. “Me, careful?” Sara amended her statement at the look on Ava’s face. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Call me if anything happens?”
“Nothing’s gonna happen.”
________
Sara’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her stomach.
“Sara...” Ray asked pensively.
She bit her lip and nodded, squeezing her eyes shut against the brief flare of pain.
“Oh my god.” Ray gasped. “Gideon’s still off-line!”
“Well, why’s Gideon bloody off-line if we knew Sara was gonna pop at any minute!” Charlie shouted, throwing their hands up into the air.
“She needed an update...” Ray shrugged helplessly, gaze cutting back to Sara, who seemed busy taking deep breaths.
“We have to call Ava.” Zari cut Ray off.
“No!” Sara whined. “Ava’s gonna be pissed, I’ll probably be fine. Its just a contraction-- those can start to happen hours before active labor. Braxton Hicks, or whatever. We’ll just... hurry it up a little bit and be back on the Waverider faster than we thought. Gideon only has what, twelve hours to go? I’ve got at least that long until regular labor even starts, probably.”
Nate and Ray shared a dubious glance, but followed after their determined captain. “But... isn’t this like... a month early?” Nate asked, quite sensibly (and delicately) for being Nate.
“Pregnant women get pains sometimes. It was probably just that.”
“The look on your face--” Ray was cut off by Sara freezing, a low, pained moan escaping from her lips. Her water just broke. The tall man rushed to her side as a matter of instinct as she wobbled. “Um, we should probably find a midwife.”
Another pain wracked Sara before she could protest. Wide-eyed, Charlie nodded before spinning on their heel and nearly falling into the mud. Zari stepped up and supported them with strong grip on an elbow. “Come on!” Zari rolled her eyes and started dragging Charlie. “OI! We need a midwife over here!”
“Shut up!” Zari shoved Charlie before dragging them along by the hand, hopefully to find some woman capable of delivering babies.
Even past the pain Sara eyed Ray, who met her questioning gaze and shrugged. “Apparently.” He mumbled, his main thought still centered around concern for his captain.
Sara rubbed her protruding belly gently, as if she could soothe the excited baby within, as another contraction had her leaning into Ray, grasping at him almost frantically.
“That’s it, I’m calling Ava.” Nate said, not pausing to let Sara protest. Honestly, Sara was almost past protesting anyway, at this point. She just wanted her girlfriend there, holding her and whispering sweet, soothing nothings into her ear. Preferably on the way to the hospital they had both agreed on for some pain medicine and a qualified, 21st century doctor to deliver their (as was rapidly becoming apparent) preterm baby.
Ray pulled a nearly delirious Sara behind a building, mostly so they could call Ava in peace but also because there was a rough chair where she could at least take some of the weight off her feet. Nate pulled out a phone fitted with a special communicator for cross-time calls and dialed Ava, who picked up with an air of panic already etched across her face.
“Sara, please tell me you aren’t going into labor in 1884.” Ava’s frantic voice cut in.
“Ok. Ava, I’m not going into labor in 1884.”
“Oh, thank god.”
“But I'd be lying.”
“SARA!”
She winced at the sound of total panic in her girlfriend’s voice. “The tech’s just took the hub offline...” Ava moaned. “Time Couriers are non-functioning.”
Despite herself, Sara felt her heart drop. She wasn’t just starting labor in 1884-- apparently she’d be finishing it too, and alone at that. She closed her eyes, fighting off the tears that so desperately wanted to break free and took a few deep breaths, trying not to panic. Her stress would only harm her baby, who was already going to be born in 1884 a month premature. Her little girl needed her to be strong.
Charlie and Zari popped around the building, a young, startled-looking woman in tow. Nate apologized, promised to keep Ava updated but that the midwife had arrived and they needed to let her go. Ava tried to look stoic, but Sara still felt her heart break into at least 800 small pieces.
“Are you the midwife?” Ray asked, stupidly.
Charlie rolled their eyes. “Nah, just some bird we plucked from the nearest cart! YES, this is the midwife!” Ray looked momentarily wounded, but the midwife wouldn’t brook any more delay.
“Name’s Mary; we need to get you off your feet as soon as possible. We’ll go to the inn nearby; they have clean linens and water. I've delivered a few there before.”
All four of the possy nodded determinedly, and Zari pressed into Sara’s other side, helping to direct her captain safely.
The midwife directed them to a building close by, for which Sara found herself grateful. She noticed she was leaning most of her weight into her two friends and was still trembling on her feet, near to collapse as she gritted her teeth against another wave of pain.
“Please tell me this ain’t your first child.” Mary asked as Ray practically lifted Sara into bed, slumping a little when both Zari and Ray shook their heads.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Sara gasped, although she kind of suspected: her contractions felt fast. Too fast.
“Your labor seems to be progressing... very quickly. Sometimes, if a woman’s had a few babies, the labor’s a bit quicker, bit easier. My mam’s was, and my eldest sister. But first babies... tend to be a bit harder.” Sara tried to school her features, but the reaction of the midwife revealed just how poorly she had done. “That don’t mean anythings wrong, per say. Could just be a fast labor. I’ve been told its known to happen.”
“ Known to happen ?” Sara choked out as tears filled her eyes. She knew something was wrong; a month early, fast and painful labor? But just this morning, Sara and Ava had smiled at each other as they felt their little baby somersaulting. Something had happened. It had to be her fault, she had to have done something wrong... their baby was hurt or... oh god, so much worse, and it was her fault...
“Sara, it’s going to be okay.” Zari whispered, leaning in to balance on the side of the bed to wrap Sara in a tight hug, her tears plastering into the other woman’s raven hair. She must have guessed at the spiral that Sara had quickly plunged into, seen something in her face.
Sara let herself cry for a little while, let Zari comfort her, let her fear pour from her eyes. She needed to pull herself together for the sake of her baby. But for now, while the midwife Mary was fetching water and linens and blankets, she let herself feel all of that fear, let it wash over her, let herself feel those emotions. For once, she knew she shouldn’t trap them inside. Zari just stroked her back and hair gently, seemingly wordlessly understanding.
“Thank you.” Sara whispered as the midwife bustled back into the room with supplies. Zari nodded as Sara pulled away, squeezing her hand one last time, knowing that Sara wasn’t going to take her at her bedside.
“I think I’ve got everything I’ll be needing.” Mary mumbled to herself, organizing cloths and linens and a basin of water helpfully carried in by the boys before turning her attentions to Sara. “You're very little.” The midwife murmured, touching her belly lightly while trying not to make a show of checking the strange woman's hips as she felt the movement of the tiny person inside. Sara bit back a few curses-- those words hadn’t even been invented yet. “You might get lucky, though.”
Sara groaned, hiding her emotions behind the guise of a contraction. Lucky wasn’t exactly in her vocabulary. She was actually pretty spectacularly unlucky, all things considered.
“May I look?” The midwife gestured to her skirts. Sara nodded weakly, feeling a short burst of embarrassment at the stranger from the late 1800s looking at her. Then touching her, Sara realized with a cringe. She tried not to think about it too hard. “Labors have definitely started. With energy.” Mary mumbled. “I’m lookin’ at the head, miss: the baby's right. You’re doin’ well, just keep it up.”
Sara nodded, relieved that everything was going okay, although okay was definitely relative, as pain shot through her body and she bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood.
The midwife gently patted her brow with a wet cloth, wiping away sweat, touching tenderly and whispering reassurances. “You’re maybe halfway there, very quick, but you’re okay.”
I’m okay. She’s okay.
We’re okay.
________
Sara used to-- okay, maybe a little part of her still did-- pride herself on her ability to stay silent under the powers of torture. Even in the face of myriad bird puns (seriously, why did every bad guy tease with name-appropriate puns), Sara couldn’t remember uttering a single peep ( oh my god ) beyond her days of training.
Until now that is, each contraction forcing another cry from her. This was the loudest she’d screamed since the Amazo, for sure, when she’d promised to herself that she’d stop crying and struggling because that only brought them more satisfaction. Definitely the most she’d squirmed since her first terrible League injury was being stitched, the one that stretched alongside her spine and made Sara seriously reconsider the whole surviving thing.
Sara wryly thought of her birth plan. I’ll have to tell Ava that she was right about the epidural she contemplated in the brief lull between earth-shattering contractions. An epidural sounds amazing right about now .
It had been hours , the sun setting behind the distant crop of trees and Ray was frantically begging Gideon to come back on-line after she had announced a brief delay (of at least five hours).
Sara knew she was strong enough to do this-- that had never been in the question. She just hadn’t wanted to have to be that strong. She wanted Ava holding her hand, smoothing sweaty strands of hair from her forehead, whispering how proud she was of Sara into her ear right when she stopped feeling strong enough, rubbing her back and shoulders, kissing her like she wasn’t sweaty and disgusting and bloody, and helping her hold her leg right when she’d swear her hips were about to give out and she couldn’t do it anymore.
She wanted to hear how beautiful and wonderful and strong she was, and how proud and in love Ava was.
Another wave of pain surged up her spine, and she found she no longer had the capacity to feel any type of shy as the midwife peeked between her legs again, touching her gently.
“You’re doin’ good, miss. Almost there.” Sara moaned and the midwife looked sympathetic, pressing the cool cloth to her forehead again.
________
The urge to push had come fairly suddenly but not violently, almost like a shoreline coming to high tide. So she did, and it hurt. So she screamed. But she didn’t stop pushing; pain had never stopped her before. So she pushed and screamed and kept pushing.
For a while after first getting pregnant, Sara had been a bit worried about birth because ‘feel like you need to push’ seemed really vague. What did that feel like? Like, what does that even mean ? Most people had been pretty unhelpful, in her opinion. Just assurances that she’d know when she felt it.
Since the Gambit sank, she’d been extremely aware of her body, and how it felt. And the League had taught her how to tune in to everything. Sara felt like she understood her body completely. Like she could read and comprehend and control everything.
But pregnancy was a jumble of novel feelings and sensations and discomforts. She no longer understood her own body, and it frightened her sometimes. It just did things, things she didn’t understand, things she couldn’t control. Nothing really compared to childbirth, and Sara stayed awake at night wondering if this had actually been a good idea, if she was capable of this. If she would miss something important or do childbirth wrong somehow. If she didn’t understand her body now, how would she understand any of its changes, the things that were apparently crucial in childbirth.
For someone who had given up faith in herself nearly two decades ago, everyone telling her to trust herself felt terrifying. And now, here she was, giving birth a month early, in pain she had never felt and bleeding way too much. It felt like her already shaky faith had been terribly misplaced. And that was a scary feeling to have as every passing moment and flare of pain brought her daughter closer to her.
________
Everyone cringed at every sound that emanated from the room. Mary had told them not to be worried, that it was time to push, and Sara was doing great but even the most stoic women usually screamed during childbirth. It was common, simple logic: pushing another human out of you freaking hurt. But still, Sara was strong; nobody could remember the last time they’d even really seen her bat an eye (at least, around them), and hearing her pained moans and small screams as she’d labored the past half a day had ravaged their nerves. Listening to her wails as she pushed was so much harder.
Ray was pacing: so many things could go wrong. It was 1884, for godssake! Was something wrong already? The baby was a whole month early! It would probably need care more advanced than 1884 could provide-- he anxiously kept checking his PalmerTech watch, which he had hooked to Gideon for a countdown timer. A few more hours until they could retreat to the Waverider for medical care. Until then, there was nothing he could do. He was helpless, just sitting there doing nothing but listening to his captain-- his close friend-- scream.
Zari found herself silently praying. Praying like she hadn’t in... since she could remember. She wasn’t even entire sure which prayer she was reciting. But it made her feel like she was doing something, so she closed her eyes and kept mumbling to herself.
Nate hated hospitals; it wasn’t really a secret. Growing up disabled can tend to do that to a kid, especially since he didn’t really need the hospital anymore with his steel skin. But still, he would give just about anything to be in one right now, to smell the antiseptic and hear the beeping and squint against the fluorescent lights and push the mushy food away. To know that Sara was going to be okay. To know that their baby was okay, and was going to be okay.
Charlie was bewildered and, frankly, terrified. Human birth was like this? They had to admit, they couldn’t recall ever witnessing it before. Or rather, listening to it. They were completely okay with not seeing anything. With never ever seeing anything of human birth. Why had Sara wanted this so badly? Why had she been so happy? Charlie figured a tiny human was only a partial reward, and they honestly didn’t understand this human drive to procreate, even, or perhaps especially, when it was difficult. Sara and Ava had tried pretty hard to get pregnant, even breaking personal code to take a trip to the future. All for what seemed to be thirteen hours of torture. And the midwife said this was quick.
Nate had refined the statement later when Charlie had asked-- apparently, Sara’s labor had slowed down quite a bit, but there wasn’t anything they would really do about it in 1884. As long as the baby was in the right place and Sara was still laboring, they just had to go with it. It had to be agony.
Sara had obviously been in a lot of pain; some of the contractions alone had pulled borderline shrieks from her, and she had a really high pain tolerance. They all exchanged looks but didn't say it out loud: if Sara had been screaming, she had to have been in a
lot
of pain. Pain that bad... probably didn’t herald anything particularly good. But saying anything out loud felt a lot like inviting something bad to happen, like jinxing it. So they didn’t: they just looked at each other and hoped.
________
Ava tried to control her breathing as she peeked around the doorframe, her heart nearly stopping at the sight of the heaping pile of reddened cloths and the tiny, unnaturally pale woman nestled in.
The midwife must have been able to read Ava’s panic by the look in her face, because the young woman placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “She’s okay, miss. Babies’ a little small, but screamed for all world. She’s a bit narrow, but really labored just fine. Bled a little on the heavy side, but she should be fine.”
Ava nodded, patting the soothing hand that had been offered before the midwife left the room, hoping she’d properly conveyed her gratitude before approaching her girlfriend as quietly as possible, hoping not to disturb her if she was resting.
“Hey.” Sara whispered, voice hoarse.
Ava took the chair next to the bed, leaning forward to brush sweat-plastered hair back from Sara’s forehead. “Hey.” She replied with a smile, kissing Sara’s cheek before turning her attention to the small baby nesting calmly in Sara’s arms. “And hey to you, too.” Ava cooed, drawing a smile from Sara’s own pale lips.
“Aves, meet Laurel.”
The baby opened her eyes just enough for Ava to catch sight of heavenly blues just like her mothers, and tears welled in her own. Her hand moved gently to the baby’s cheek, brushing it softly with her knuckle. “She’s gorgeous, Sara.”
Sara nuzzled gently against Ava’s cheek.
“I’m sorry you weren’t here. I know how much this meant to you.”
“
I’m
sorry I wasn’t here. I promised to be by your side for this, and I wasn’t.” Ava’s voice caught, and she wanted to kick herself. She shouldn’t have been on Sara’s mind at all. "I'm so, so proud of you, baby. I love you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't here."
“You’re here now.” Sara whispered. “It was scary. But... it was worth it.” Her bloody and bruised lips broke into a smile as she looked down at little Laurel. “I love her so much. She was worth everything.”