No Miles, no Alpha, not even a stranger as midwife to guide them through the most traumatic, debilitating pain of their life. But it doesn't even matter. As soon as she's out, writhing and screaming on the mattress, Kurt forgets all about the pain, the horror of their situation, the fact that they were left alone to endure this. She's perfect. Healthy, ferocious, beautiful. Finally getting to see her, hear her, hold her makes everything they have gone through worth it.
Still breathless and trembling, Kurt scoops her up and cradles her close, so close, not once letting her out of their sight as she opens her eyes to the world. Looking at her makes them feel like they're floating. All the pain is gone, the loneliness, the fear. The world doesn't exist outside of the little bubble shared between the two, the child hiccuping and whining unhappily at the chill of life, Kurt shakily wiping blood from her eyes.
She looks just like Corrigan. Their heart sings at the thought.
Not even Miles' cruelty can dampen their joy—though not for lack of trying. By the time he slithers back inside, the baby has already latched, curling up on their chest to eat while Kurt gingerly wipes them clean. The sight of him makes their blood run cold, a haunted but intense cast over their face when they meet his uncaring gaze. Unconsciously, their grip on the baby tightens. An instinct they can't articulate flares through them, ancient, fiercely protective, their guard already immediately up.
"Yes, Alpha," they manage, surprised by how strong and clear their own voice is even after hours of screaming. They may call him Alpha, but their body knows better, curling defensively around their daughter without conscious thought. He is a threat. "I'm done."
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Date: 2023-12-18 03:16 am (UTC)Still breathless and trembling, Kurt scoops her up and cradles her close, so close, not once letting her out of their sight as she opens her eyes to the world. Looking at her makes them feel like they're floating. All the pain is gone, the loneliness, the fear. The world doesn't exist outside of the little bubble shared between the two, the child hiccuping and whining unhappily at the chill of life, Kurt shakily wiping blood from her eyes.
She looks just like Corrigan. Their heart sings at the thought.
Not even Miles' cruelty can dampen their joy—though not for lack of trying. By the time he slithers back inside, the baby has already latched, curling up on their chest to eat while Kurt gingerly wipes them clean. The sight of him makes their blood run cold, a haunted but intense cast over their face when they meet his uncaring gaze. Unconsciously, their grip on the baby tightens. An instinct they can't articulate flares through them, ancient, fiercely protective, their guard already immediately up.
"Yes, Alpha," they manage, surprised by how strong and clear their own voice is even after hours of screaming. They may call him Alpha, but their body knows better, curling defensively around their daughter without conscious thought. He is a threat. "I'm done."