Everytime (American Horror AU 5)

Chapter 23

NOTE: Media featured is also written in italics; in the video, it goes from 2:12 on to the end.

Britta had kept her promise to Amy—she had not left her side and even helped her down the stairs with Charles, Nora's husband. As soon as they came all the way down, Nora and Vivien appeared to set up a comfortable area from Amy to lie back on and give birth. The petite, century-old Swede sat down by her side and held her hand, immune to her deadly touch. Vivien went to the other side of her, looking down at her with concern as she remembered Charles helping her when she had Michael and his stillborn twin brother.

"You'll be okay," Vivien said, "just breathe and relax."

"It hurts…ow, it hurts!" Amy whined.

"It's a woman's curse," Charles said, getting on his mask and sanitary hat before walking over with several instruments to facilitate the birthing process.

"Does she need ether?" Nora asked.

"I don't think there's time," Charles said, bringing a chair and a bucket over to Amy as he parted her legs, adjusting his gloves and removing any clothing from the waist down. The young woman screamed in pain as she felt the agonizing contractions rip through her body.

"Ah, it hurts!" she screamed. "Ah! It's ripping me apart!"

"Min älskling, listen," Britta whispered, kissing the side of her great-granddaughter's forehead. "You must keep calm. I know this hurts, but you must get through it."

"You're having contractions," Charles explained. "You'll be alright."

"I feel…ow!" the young woman screamed.

"There's another," Vivien said. "Push and breathe. Remember your breathing."

Struggling to keep calm was a struggle; so much that Amy just kept crying as the pain ripped through her body. Having Britta by her side had been a relief, but was also grateful for the help of Nora and Vivien just before Violet appeared to them. Charles was encouraging her to push with each contraction, but he noticed that she was bleeding profusely. As she had memories of the births of her five children during the mid-20th century, Britta lent all of her encouragement to the young woman even as she showed the will to give up entirely.

"I can't! I can't, Britta!" the pale blonde cried.

"You can," she sighed. "I believe in you. Push."

"Squeeze my hand," Vivien said. "Push. Breathe."

"I can see its head," Charles said, holding out his gloved hands to gather the crowning baby as it made its way out if its mother.

"Oh, herregud," Britta muttered. "One more. It will come out."

"Breathe, breathe," Vivien said softly. "Squeeze my hand."

As Charles collected the head and body of the slimy infant, he saw that it was covered in a thick layer of blood, seeing that Amy was bleeding profusely into the bucket set on the floor below as she pushed relentlessly to get her child out of her. As she made her final push, Dr. Montgomery heard the newborn squealing in a raspy manner, barely making any movements. Britta looked at Amy, seeing her face becoming paler by the minute before looking to Charles, who seemed to be looking down at the crying baby.

"I need to cut the cord," he muttered.

"What is the child?" the Swede asked. "May I give her to the mother?"

"Not just yet," the doctor said, snipping the cord before Britta gathered up a flat blanket and held it out to gather the slippery infant. She snuck a look down at the area between its legs to see what it was.