FicWad

When a girl is upset the best advice is often stay out of her way. Calyx wasn't a high temperament kind of woman, but exhaustion, pregnancy, and Gerard’s absence was the flint, spark and fuse causing her to go off at anything. She would snap, then apologize, snap and cry for feeling guilty, then sit bitterly in silence telling the boys to leave her alone.

The morning after Gerard left for London, the dynamic of the rooms was tense to say the least, ignoring the pink elephant in the room, or the fact it was missing actually. Frank, Bob, and Ray dutifully practiced from breakfast to late afternoon working on their guitar progressions and writing inventive rifts. However, even with a few beers to loosen them up the atmosphere in the make shift studio was unnaturally diligent.

Calyx lounged in the adjoining suite on the couch smothered in pillows to support her back, engorged belly, head, sore legs, ect. Watching television half heartedly, her attention anxiously avoided anything reminding her of her top three annoyances, being pregnant, her boyfriend, and love/relationships in general, which successfully censored the majority of French and all English speaking shows. The only winner was a French dubbed episode of the Simpsons that at least amused her enough to set the remote down after commercials.
Mikey stepped in front of her view and rudely silenced Homer's gurgling over a pastry. She eyed him suspiciously.

“What the hell you do that for?" He slid his arms through his sage green hoodie and began zipping it up. Her body protested immediately.

“Come on, get up. You're not moping around Paris until we move on. Let's go check something out, I want to show you." He pulled on her arm, but she held fast groaning aloud.

“Mikey, not today, I really don't feel up to it, please." He lowered onto one knee at her level and focused his pair of incredibly kind hazel eyes on her intently.

“Get your adorably big butt off the couch and come check out Paris with me. Why are you watching television that's not even in English?" She gasped as his candidness and mumbled meekly,

"But I'm pregnant." He pulled away the few pillows encasing her until she sat up.

“You can't use that excuse all the time. Come on Cal, fuck Gee, well be lovers today." She blushed nervously beneath her hair, but relented and followed behind him, zipping up her fleece hoodie against the brisk air. Mikey acted like a gentlemen hooking her arm and opening each door they came to including the car which they were allowed to use.

It was futile pretending to be sullen with Mikey at her side. Despite his introverted nature, when he was comfortable his attitude was infectious. Her cheeks ached with smiles before they even reached their destination at the end of the winding Parisian labyrinth.

They left the car at the historical Moulin Rouge, quite unlike the movie version in reality, and traveled by foot through the artist district, Montmartre. Mikey was right, Calyx gawked at the beautiful sights, streets, gallery and view of Paris she nearly missed because of her laziness. The Louvre was one attraction, but if her eyes only saw Montmartre she would feel like she truly experienced Paris.

No longer jostled and swarmed by the ethnic refugees that crowded the city below, the artist district preserved an essence of France unique to its corner cafes and ally galleries filled with local art nouveu. Mikey and Calyx strolled peacefully arm in arm up the cobblestones chatting warmly about art until her voice literally went horse without refreshment.

“Did you try calling Gerard yet?" Mikey asked while stirring a lemon into his mineral water. Calyx kept one hand on her belly which ached with peculiar cramps and the occupant writhed but she ignored it with effort.

“No, I left a text but we haven’t really spoken since our fight the other day. It's so complicated," she looked off remorsefully at the warm street outside, something out of a painting by the masters, and sighed. "I shouldn't have gotten so bitchy, but I really don't know how to act around him either." Mikey reached up and in a familiar gesture fingered his blondish bangs from his face. His expression was always stoic but various levels of concern to it.

“Yeah, well he usually works on autopilot, and now I think he's facing a big reality which is you and what that means. I can tell he really likes you, and I know he’ll be a great dad and all, but he's scared shitless."

“ So am I! Like I know I'm strong enough to deal with this on my own but I would like a partner in it, y'know, I'd like him involved. I'm waiting until the baby’s born, and then I told him well make a final decision."

“ I know it’s hard, but you don't know Gerard like I do. He has to be an artist and perfect at everything he does, it makes him a genius but also insane at times. He’ll be the perfect dad, or drive himself crazy trying. He's a lot better now though, and I think he really wants to try to make it work, too." Calyx considered what Mikey said thoughtfully, mulling each idea that came to mind.

There would be no try with this baby only do it do not, like Yoda says, and it sounded like both her and Gerard were in agreement with how they wanted to raise their baby, they just hadn't shared it together. There wasn't much keeping them together either accept an idea, but Calyx felt an affection, a desire and what could be taken as love existing beneath the surface. No girl dreams of being a single mother, but the thought didn't frighten her. Being the product like so many children of a broken home, what she was afraid of was putting her child in the middle of a forced and loveless relationship. Time could only tell how much Calyx and Gerard would come together but the reality was she had to try and put forth the effort to expect anything in returns, and her mind rambled on.

After lunch her and Mikey walked the streets around the cathedral on top of the hill in Montmartre, and enumerated about family and parenthood. Mikey became livelier as they talked and Calyx felt endearing about their relationship.

“What I wanted to show you is up here." They rounded the corner of another small Moulin, windmill in French, and found a small park fenced by iron gates and touching an ornate brick wall that displayed beautiful family plaques spanning over a hundred years celebrating births. A dark and majestic oak tree stood protectively in the center of the garden lot and covered the whole park in cool shade.

“Aw, this is so lovely!" Calyx gleamed touching the decorated porcelain names, reading each one in procession.

“I thought you'd like it here. The climbs worth it in the end." At the end of the wall was a wishing fountain and then they took a turn around the tree, admiring the lush flowers planted along its roots which pushed the cobblestones in random directions.

“Can we sit a second? I don't feel so hot."

“ Of course," Mikey helped her to sit on the iron bench and watched the pained expression on her face worsen. "Are you okay?"

“ I don't know. I've had these contractions all day but now they don't feel right."

“ Contractions are you in labor!" He yelped incredulously jumping up.

“No, no it’s too early. The doctor said I'd get fake ones at some point, and not to worry but this really doesn't feel right." Beads of sweat formed on her creased brow as she attempted to stand. Mikey supported her, but suddenly her knees buckled and she cried out.

“Something’s wrong, Mikey, god it hurts." By standers were now looking on, asking things in French which Mikey didn't understand but he was already on his cell, calling for the car. Mikey hurriedly explained where they were, darkness began to fill Calyx’s vision as the intense pain made her swoon. "Mikey!" She cried, tears staining her cheeks. People around them were calling police, and shouting at each other in French. He grabbed her under the shoulders to support her weight, and began moving towards the entry way. "I can't feel the baby! It's not kicking, or moving or anything! Something wrong," she cried out and her strength buckled. With the help of another gentleman, Mikey scooped her up solidly in his arms and continued towards the street as the car raced towards them. People shouted at each other to make room. A mass if hands helped open the door, push gawkers aside, and help her into the car. Mikey kissed and spoke against her ear.

“Were going to the hospital, don't worry just hang on." He coached her through the pain as the black sedan raced illegally along the winding streets. Two police cars which were summoned joined them and they escorted the vehicle to the nearest hospital at the bottom of the hill.
Mikey tried to grip her hand but once at the emergency room, a team of nurses and a gurney came erupting from the double doors, took her from the car and ran back with her inside. In a flurry of French, he heard Calyx cry his name but another nurse detained him roughly.

“Get the fuck off me, where are you taking her? What's going on?" Another male nurse appeared and shuffled him into an adjacent room, trying to grapple past their shoulders, Mikey saw the team ripping Calyx’s clothes and strapping her to machines. Over the bustling around if the ER and machines, he could hear her screaming which tore at his heart.

“Sir, sir what's your name?"

“ Michael Way, her name is Calyx, what's going on? Is the baby okay? She just collapsed." They pushed him back again.

“We don't know yet, they're taking tests. The baby appears in distress. How far along is she?"

“ Eight months, what kind of distress?"

“ Give us some time, we’ll let you know." A man stayed at his side to hold him every time Mikey made for the room, but once they turned without more questions, he jumped on his phone and called Gerard. No answer. After leaving a frantic message, he called the guys and told them their location, and tried Gerard again.

Time moved in a fanatic blur but his head snapped to attention when he heard them wheel her out and she called his name.

“Caly, I'm right here." he jogged along with them as best he could, being jostled by the other nurses. Of course just before the final double doors, a stuff pair of hands denied him entrance.

“What’s going on? What are you going to do?" This time the individual in shrubs had an air of authority and handed Mikey a green smock.

“Come with me." He followed on his heels and they entered a wash room. Mikey ripped off his hoodie, put on the smock backwards like the others in line at the sink and began shaping up to the elbows. His stomach began to turn.

“Doctor?"

“ Unfortunately, the baby isn't getting oxygen." Thankfully, the man spoke perfect English, but that didn't calm Mikey’s sympathetic nervous system. His heart pounded rythmicly, terrified what these words meant for Calyx. "Something appears to obstructing airflow, like the cord around the neck, but the baby’s also breech at the moment. Arms up-" hands held up, he followed behind the doctor and into the surgical room where he saw the nurses prepping Calyx.

"What's breech?"

“ Upside-down, hopefully that's all it is but we got to get in quick or he might go into arrest, the mother too." A nurse held a contraption over Calyx’s mouth the delivered pure oxygen. Mikey saw her hands clenching again and again into fists and the glisten of tears rolling down her face. He wiped them away with his index finger and her dark brown eyes snapped open. She mouthed his name but now he held the oxygen mask over her nose.

“Caly, they’re going in to get him. He's in a bad position but everything gon’na be okay, just breath real deep." She nodded silently and breathed deep breaths. Luckily on her side of the partition, they couldn't view the operation but within seconds blood was visible on the doctor’s apron and Calyx clenched her eyes shut.

Mikey heard a knock behind him and when he looked up, saw the distinctive texture of Ray’s hair through the window just for a second before a nurse covered it. He gave a silent thanks to God, and whispered into her ear.
“Frankie and Ray are here, honey, you're not alone." She mumbled indistinctly, but he still understood. "He's on his way as fast as he can. He’ll be here when you get out."

“ We got him!" The doctor announced.

“Is he okay? Please say he's okay?"

Mikey gasped at the slimy, blue and bloody creature that the nurses passed between them. The pasty cord was wrapped around its neck twice over, but even when he unwound it and suctioned the mouth the baby still didn't cry.

They severed the cord and swept him away only turning to say, "Close her up." The doctor said, and turned to help the nurses in the corner towel off the baby. Calyx clung to Mikey’s hand desperately, wiping her free flowing tears on it.

"Please, tell me he's okay?" He feared leaving her side, but also watched in terror at the ashen legs flopping as they roughly towel dried the infant. The nurses almost formed an impenetrable wall and just as Mikey was about to cover Calyx’s face, he saw the bottoms of the tiny feet flush with pink, the toes curled, and the miraculous sound of a baby’s piercing cry filled the room louder than everyone's cheering.

Calyx burst into sobs, washing in relief and the beautiful sound. Mikey saw the top of the infant’s black hair roll around on its own and the air filled with the sound of tiny yet powerful lungs. He finally let go of Calyx’s hand to accept the black and pink bundle from the nurse.

He took a second to admire for himself his niece, he realized, as her fragile legs squirmed in his hands. She was small but felt as strong as she sounded. He couldn't help but tear up himself, and lowered her to Calyx’s face.

“It’s a daughter, mama." Obviously surprised, her eyes flickered from Mikey to the infant, Mikey and then back to her. She kissed the feathery blackness atop her head, taking in the first scent of her daughter and watched solemnly as Mikey handed her back. Her body gratefully relaxed finally, and sent a small wish that Gerard would arrive swiftly. She didn't even feel the pain knowing they were all right.