Jelly Babies

Many, many thanks to Doll'sEyes, Snidne, Moonstar, Tenshistar, StoryJunkie, and Alisha Steele for their wonderful reivews. You people make me feel like the luckiest writer around.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. Or dreading, depending how you feel about mpreg. *Wink*

Jelly Babies

Chapter Ten


Finally purged of his anger, and his sorrow, Nicholas dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he awoke again, Pepper had gone. But Sylvia sat next to his bed, hunched over her sketchbook, filling the quiet air with the scratch of pencil against paper. She wore her customary black, except for a dragonfly-shaped broach, its wings covered by glittering green rhinestones. Seeing the bright spot of color made Nicholas smile.

When Sylvia noticed that he was awake, she halted work on her drawing, and flipped to a clean page. “How are you feeling?” she asked, handing him the sketchbook and pencil.

Better, Nicholas wrote. Thank you for saving me. Again.

“You’re welcome. But really, Kale did most of the saving. Cassie would have turned me into a festive appetizer.”

You let me drink from you. Nicholas remembered the thirst, like a fire burning in his throat. He remembered the feel of sinking his teeth deep into Sylvia’s flesh. He remembered sucking, sucking with all his strength, until her muscles spasmed against his fangs, and blood flooded into him, soothing the blistering heat. And not just blood. Fragments of memory, whispers of emotion, and tingling sensations of pleasure had all rushed into his body along with the precious fluid. For Sylvia, who valued her privacy so highly that she hid herself behind dark glasses and black gloves, giving him those pieces must have been a greater sacrifice than the few pints of blood. Nicholas knew they had both touched something deep inside the other. Something that would not be easily forgotten. If you hadn’t done that, I would have died.

“I just did my duty as a healer. The important thing is that you’re going to be alright.”

Am I? Did I...? Nicholas hesitated, reluctant to even write the word, as if the very act of shaping its letters might make his fear come true. Nervously, he licked the place where his fangs lay sleeping. Did I turn?

“No,” Sylvia assured, a little too quickly.

No?

“Well, not much. Barely at all.” Sylvia sighed. “You don’t have to worry about sunlight, or holy water, or any of that. Of course, that means you don’t have any of the advantages, either. No immortality. No heightened speed or increased strength. It’s just that...sometimes...you’ll get a craving.”

A craving? Inadvertently, Nicholas’s mind jumped back to the third month of Marzi’s pregnancy, when Marzi had refused to eat anything but microwave popcorn for nearly a week. What sort of craving?

“A blood craving. You don’t need to drink to survive, but sometimes you’ll still want to. I really recommend resisting the urge. Barring that, at least make sure your source is pure. If you ever consume tainted blood – vampire blood, demon blood, whatever – you’ll finish what Cassie started.”

Nicholas touched pencil to paper, before realizing he had no idea what to say. Finally, he shut the sketchbook, and handed it back to Sylvia, who seemed to realize that he needed some time alone to truly absorb what she’d just told him. Nodding, she got to her feet. But, as she started toward the door, her hand slipped inside her jacket pocket. “Oh,” she murmured. “I nearly forgot. Kale wanted me to give you this.”

Returning to her bed, Sylvia dropped a bracelet into Nicholas’s outstretched hand. With a pang of guilt, Nicholas recognized it as the “candy” he’d made for Cassie, which she must have been wearing when Kale destroyed her.

Nicholas understood that Kale didn’t have any choice about killing Cassie. But he also understood that in her own twisted, misguided, selfish way, Cassie really had been trying to help him. Absently, Nicholas pulled the bracelet through his fingers, counting the beads and wondering how many horrors each one represented -- how many murders, how many narrow escapes, how many lonely nights spent without any hope of ever seeing the sun? How crazy would he be, after hundreds of years of that?

I’ll remember you, Nicholas promised her. I’ll remember you the way you must have been, before the monster within consumed your mind. I’ll remember you when it threatens to consume me. Because you lost your battle, I’ll make sure that I never lose mine.

Sadly, Nicholas slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. And if there is a God, and if you still had a soul, I hope He gives it somewhere peaceful to rest.

*****

The DVD player had been delivered to Kale that morning. After glancing at the directions, which seemed to be written in a language more obscure than any ancient text Kale had ever translated, he resorted to invoking unholy powers. And when that failed, a process of trial-and-error finally completed the setup. “There,” Kale announced, handing Marzi the remote control with the same pride as a warrior giving his beloved the head of a particularly crafty and dangerous enemy. “And I rented the first five movies on your list. Which of them would you like me to pop in before I leave?”

As usual, Marzi sat on his bed, propped up by a mountain of pillows. He looked tired, obviously worn down by the final stages of his pregnancy. But he still managed to give Kale an inviting smile. “Couldn’t you stay and watch one with me? Pepper is hardly around anymore, and I get lonely.”

Kale hesitated. The prospect of snuggling up to Marzi for a few uninterrupted hours certainly sounded appealing. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, my treasure. But human movies never appeal to me. Either they’re unbearably sappy, or painfully predictable, or the hero is so pure and good that I want to punch him.”

His protest, however, failed to dissuade Marzi. “I know just the movie for you. Third one from the top.”

Picking up the proper DVD, Kale glanced at its title. “L.A. Confidential?”

“No sappiness. No pure and good heroes. And if you think it’s predictable, that demon mind of yours is even twistier than I suspected.”

“Alright,” Kale surrendered, putting L.A. Confidential into the player. “If it’s horrible, I can always leave.”

After making sure the DVD really was going to play, Kale climbed onto the bed, and wrapped his arm around Marzi. Immediately, Marzi cuddled closer, resting his cheek on Kale’s shoulder, at which point Kale decided that even if L.A. Confidential turned out to be stinking heap of romantic drivel, he wasn’t going anywhere. This just felt too damn nice. Fortunately, the movie proved to be quite good. Kale found himself getting drawn into the struggles of the three main characters, each of them balanced on the edge of their own particular damnation – he especially liked the brutal cop, Bud White. That one definitely had some demon blood in his veins. However, while Kale relaxed and enjoyed the movie, Marzi seemed to grow increasingly restless, shifting from one position to another. Finally, just as the big gunfight began, he hit the pause button.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kale inquired, mildly dismayed at having things cut off before the climax. “I thought you liked this movie?”

“I do,” Marzi assured. His eyes were wide, their color distorted by the unnatural light from the television screen, and both his hands rested on his swollen belly. “It’s just that...for the last forty minutes or so...I’ve felt something. Cramps, sort of. I think it may be time.”

A lightning bolt seemed to strike Kale. But with a tremendous exertion of will, he managed to keep his voice calm as he rose from the bed. “I’ll get Sylvia,” he promised, kissing Marzi’s fingers. “You stay right here.”

“Believe me, this time I’m not going anywhere,” Marzi assured. Reluctantly, Kale released his lover’s hand, and walked to the door. Once he had closed it behind himself, he broke into a run.

Sylvia was in her room, talking to Nicholas. When Kale burst through the entrance, they both looked up, and apparently Kale’s expression said more than words, because before he could speak, Sylvia stood up and retrieved a small carrying case. “I’ve got everything I need. Let’s go.”

Nicholas, however, didn’t seem inclined to let his baby be born without him. Shoving aside the blankets, he got to his feet for the first time since Cassie’s attack. Unfortunately, during his recovery, no one had thought to bring him any pants. Kale tried to be patient while Sylvia searched for something suitable. But he kept thinking of Marzi, alone, suffering god-knows-what, and his temper finally snapped. Yanking a drawer from Sylvia’s dresser, Kale hurled it against the wall, where it smashed in an explosion of splinters and white cotton socks. “I don’t care if he wears a skirt! Stop wasting time!”

Sylvia and Nicholas froze. Then, wordlessly, Sylvia handed Nicholas a pair of pajama bottoms, which he scrambled to put on. Before he even got his second leg in, Kale had already started back toward Marzi’s room.

To his immense relief, Marzi didn’t appear to be in any greater distress than when he’d left. Kale ached to rush forward, and once more take his lover’s hand in his own, but he didn’t want to be in the way, so he forced himself to hang back while Sylvia began her examination of Marzi. Nicholas, for his part, took up a position against the opposite wall.

“Well?” Kale demanded, when Sylvia had finished her tests.

But his healer ignored him, addressing Marzi instead. “You’re definitely having labor pains. However, it’s only the first stage – your body is just getting warmed up. The baby won’t be ready to be born for another two to six hours.”

“Six hours?!” Marzi objected. “What am I supposed to do for six hours?”

“Well, it looks like you have an impressive selection of movies. Let’s all watch something together. Ooh, this one is my favorite!”

Kale let out a groan of despair as Sylvia pulled Moulin Rouge from the stack of DVDs.

*****

Marzi had already seen Moulin Rouge before. And that was a good thing, because he sure as hell wasn’t seeing it now. Instead, he stared at the digital clock on the DVD player, carefully counting the minutes between each contraction. Time seemed to stretch on forever. Once or twice, he tried to wakeup Pepper, but she was gone. Probably gone forever. Marzi wondered if the transition had happened quickly. Was there a moment when his sister had suddenly become aware of herself as a fetus in a womb? Or had her memories been scattered like dust before her spirit ever joined with its new body?

Good luck, little sister. I’ll do better this time. I’ll take good care of you.

Another contraction hit, and Marzi inhaled sharply, before letting his breath out in little puffs. Sylvia had told him to resist all urges to push. The baby didn’t have anywhere to go, and putting pressure on her would only cause bruising, or worse. So, whenever he felt the need to bear down, he did his breathing exercises, although he tried to do them quietly, to prevent Kale from noticing. Outwardly, Marzi’s lover seemed perfectly calm. But he hadn’t flinched once, not even during the movie’s most unabashedly mushy moments, and Marzi suspected that Kale’s fixed stare masked considerable inner turmoil.

“Sylvia? They’re getting more regular. And the last few were under four minutes apart.”

Sylvia, who had been cheerfully singing along with “Come What May”, hit the stop button. And beside her, Kale muttered “Thank god.” Although whether he meant to express gratitude for the final stage of Marzi’s pregnancy, or for being spared from more of Moulin Rouge, Marzi wasn’t sure.

“Alright,” Sylvia acknowledged, standing up. “Everyone except Marzi needs to get off the bed. Kale, turn on the lights. Nicholas, get my kit.”

While Nicholas and Kale hurried to perform their tasks, Sylvia bent over Marzi, smiling gently down at him. “Are you ready for this?”

“If I said that I wasn’t, would it make a difference?”

“I could knock you out,” Sylvia offered. “You’d wake up sometime tomorrow, with no adverse effects, and a new baby to keep you company.”

It was tempting. But Marzi shook his head. “I’m only going give birth once, right? I might as well be conscious for it.”

“Well, that will make it easier to judge if something goes wrong,” Sylvia conceded. “Kale, I want you to sit next to Marzi. Can you find his pulse? Good. I want you to keep your finger on it, and tell me if it changes much. Nicholas, open up my kit, and put on a pair of those rubber gloves. You’re going to help me. Unless the sight of blood makes you faint.”

Glancing at Nicholas, Marzi thought he looked like he might faint even before the sight of blood. But apparently, if Kale was going to stick it out, Nicholas felt determined to do no less. After only a moment’s hesitation, he pulled on the gloves.

“How about you, Marzi? Are you comfortable?”

Marzi winced at the onset of another contraction. “As comfortable as I’m going to be with a tiny person inside me trying to get out.” Settling back on the pillows, he attempted to relax while Sylvia undid the ties on his robe, and placed her hands on his stomach. This time, as her magic flowed into him, it didn’t crackle and burn, but crept slowly forward, like a layer of ice forming on the surface of a lake. Marzi shivered. And instantly sensed the warmth of Kale’s hand, stroking his cheek.

“Shh, my treasure. Everything is going to be fine.”

Withdrawing her hands, Sylvia retrieved a small needle from her kit, which she used to poke Marzi’s belly. At least, Marzi assumed she poked him. He could see her do it, but his nerves refused to carry the message of pain. “Can you feel that?”

Slowly, Marzi shook his head. Several more pricks all got negative responses. Seemingly satisfied, Sylvia returned the needle to her kit, exchanging it for a scalpel. “I’m going to make the main incision now. You might want to look at the ceiling.”

Despite her advice, Marzi watched transfixed as Sylvia drew the scalpel across the lower part of his abdomen. It didn’t hurt, but there was an odd sensation, like being unzipped. Sluggishly, blood began to ooze from the cut. Seeing it trickle across his skin, and drip onto the sheets, Marzi remembered another bed that had known the stain of his blood. That seemed so long ago...

“Alright. Now I’m going to make a second incision, opening the womb itself. This will release the amniotic fluid. So don’t worry if you feel something spilling out.”

Like someone waking from a dream, Marzi tore his gaze from the operation. Blood was one thing. But if the contents of his womb were going to come gushing forth, he definitely didn’t want to see that. Instead, he turned his head to the side, and looked at Kale, drawing strength from the endless supply in his lover’s eyes. Again, he felt a part of his body being undone. And, seconds later, felt warm liquid soaking the bed beneath him. Marzi knew that Sylvia had everything under control. Knew that Kale would never let anything happen to him. However, the physical sensations triggered a panic more primal than intellectual knowledge. Trying to stay calm, Marzi attempted to resume his breathing exercises, but they came out choppier than they should have.

Marzi experienced an odd tugging feeling, and realized that Sylvia had actually pushed her hands inside him, as she maneuvered to get a grip on the baby. Fuck. Holy fuck. He felt like he was suffocating. He could hear himself gasping for air, but could no longer control his rapid, shallow breathing.

“Sylvia—“ Kale’s voice sounded tight, like a coiled spring.

“Hold on. I’ve nearly got the baby.”

“Fuck the baby! Something’s wrong with Marzi.”

No... You promised... But as his vision grew blurry, Marzi realized the futility of asking Kale to make a promise like that. Might as well make a starving dog promise not to devour a steak, or make a mouse promise not to be frightened of cats. Some things ran deeper than promises. Some things were in the blood. And Kale’s determination to protect Marzi, regardless of the cost, was apparently one of those things.

“He’s hyperventilating,” Sylvia informed. “Find a paper bag for him to breathe into.”

Marzi tried to protest as Kale released his wrist, but he couldn’t make the words come. His lungs pounded until they ached, and yet, he couldn’t seem to inhale enough oxygen to feed his starving body. Then, he felt another tug, and Sylvia held a small, bloody, shape in her hands. The last thing Marzi heard before he passed out was the wail of his baby taking its first breath.