Say You'll Share With Me | Phantom Oneshots

you outshine the morning sun

handholding prompt #8 - squeezing hands for comfort and encouragement 

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Helplessness was not a feeling that Erik was used to anymore. As a child, that was the norm, being imprisoned and abused practically daily. As he grew and spent his teenage years in Persia, though, gaining power, wealth, and influence, he found himself newly able to protect himself. From then on, he swore to do everything possible never to experience that feeling ever again.

That determination had gone completely out the window when his son had come into the world.

Christine's labour had started in the middle of the day while Erik played a song on the violin, one that soothed his wife on her most restless nights; she had gasped so loudly when her water had broken that Erik had startled and played a screeching note. That one instance was the beginning of hours in which Erik had no clue as to what to do. His wife was in more pain than she had ever been in before and he was powerless to stop it. He was even responsible for that pain, he realized; he had fathered that child that Christine was labouring to bring into the world.

Every melancholy thought was shoved away for later reflection with every shout or cry from his wife, though; she was his focus, was all that mattered. He acted as her servant for hours upon hours, fetching water and towels, and pressing his thumbs into the small of her back to ease her contractions.

Mostly, though, he simply held her (when she wished to be held). The midwife had advised that Christine move throughout the labour, saying that it had helped her discomfort when delivering her own child. Christine was quick to follow that advice, and Erik stuck with her. He acted as a pillar of sorts, letting her lean back against him for support whenever she needed it. She would sway back and forth and he would sway with her as he linked their hands and cradled her belly, then squeezed her hands with every wave of pain. He could only hope that those gentle squeezes conveyed his support and how proud he was of his lovely little wife and all she was doing for their child.

And then there was calm. After the screaming and crying, the rapid instructions from the doctor and midwife had ended, the room was calm and peaceful again, as it had been before the entire process had begun. And yet, somehow, Erik had not felt so helpless throughout the entire experience.

He sat on the bed beside his wife, gazing down at the tiny baby cradled in her arms. He still couldn't quite believe that the child—his child—was there with them, but he was. He was real, with his tiny fingers and toes, the dark patch of downy hair on his head, and, to Erik's shock and elation, a beautiful, whole, flawless face.

"I still don't understand," Erik breathed as he gently set a hand atop his son, who was bundled in a blanket. "How he could be so...perfect with any part of me in him."

"Because you are capable of making the most beautiful things, and he is no exception," Christine replied. She looked at him and gave him the warmest smile, though Erik could see the exhaustion painted on her face. Always so strong, his Angel. It filled his chest with a kind of pride that he couldn't quite comprehend.

"Why don't you hold him, darling?" The request put a knot in his stomach, only serving to increase that helpless feeling, as soon as it fell from her lips. That was the one thing he had yet to do—hold his own child. Erik never wanted to admit to being afraid, but he couldn't simply run forever from such a simple responsibility. The look on Christine's face told him how badly she wanted him to do it, and he himself wanted to as well; to feel such closeness with his infant, to hold to his chest the perfect baby that had come into the world. And yet, that helpless feeling was there, threatening to overwhelm him.

"I don't...know how," Erik admitted after a few silent moments had passed, his voice sounding more sheepish than he had ever heard it. "I want to, but I don't want to hurt him at all."

"You won't, it's alright," Christine replied, a warm smile on her face. "Would you like to hold him the way that I am, or resting on your chest?"

"I don't have any preference. I have never held a baby, I have no experience with either."

"Well, if I have learned anything from the time I have spent with babies, laying them on your chest is a lovely thing. Their little heart beats against yours."

Erik couldn't help but ignore how his heart swelled at the idea, of feeling the little heart of his infant son against his own. "I think I'd like to do that," he replied. "If you'll help me."

His little wife's face seemed to brighten as she sat up. "Use one hand to cradle his head and one under his bottom," she explained. "Then bring him to your chest and lean back."

With a nod and shaking hands, he leaned forward and gently slipped his hands underneath the baby boy. The child squirmed a bit and made a quiet cooing sound, but Christine hushed him and he soon fell silent. Moving slowly, Erik brought the baby close, chest-to-chest with him, and leaned back against the headboard, and only then did he exhale. The feeling was exquisite, as Christine had implied; the boy's weight was so slight and he fit perfectly in both of Erik's hands, but it felt...right. There was no other word to describe it.

Still, there was fear. Fear about the future, how to support this tiny child who was curled close to his chest, who depended on him and Christine for everything and would for years to come. "I don't know how I'm meant to do this," Erik whispered, looking at his wife as she leaned closer to him and their son. "How am I supposed to know what he needs to be happy, safe?"

"Give him what you wish you had as a boy," Christine whispered in response, carefully resting her hand over his, which still cradled their son's head, and giving it a small squeeze. "If you give him that warmth, care, and love, he will be the happiest boy in all of France, and you and I will be right there with him for every precious moment of it."

Erik couldn't help but smile, his fear subsiding just enough for him to enjoy the beautiful moment he found himself in with his newly expanded family. He turned to kiss the crown of his wife's head when she leaned against his shoulder, then did the same for their son. "I look forward to that. Very much so."

~ 

yes, i have one (1) thing that i write, and that is happy E/C family content. this is what you sign up for when you follow my writing, i can never resist writing it when the opportunity presents itself