Mommy Mouse (sequel to City Mouse)

Epilogue: Deus ex Machina

AN: (written on March 2nd, 2018) I'm giving you guys this chapter, even though it's too early, because so many of you are flipping right out of your trees over how what happened could've happened, so don't lose your shit over the fact that this is the epilogue, okay 😉? The story isn't over, I just wanted you to have this so you wouldn't keep asking me about it.

Yes, I love you all that much lol. The rest of this story will continue and be inserted, chapter by chapter, before this one. This will end up at the very end, where it belongs, when the story is over. I just didn't want you all to suffer any more, not knowing how it happened.

Happy birthday 🎂, Merry Xmas 🎄, all that good stuff, and don't say I never gave you anything 😉 ❣️

🌺🍼🦁🌟🦁🌟🦁🌟🦁🍼🌺

Five years earlier.

Barachiel sighed and rose, though her aching feet protested. She'd been on them all day and most of the night, and she wasn't a light woman, even when she was rested.

But baby girl Tomlinson was crying again, her wails loud in the quiet nursery. Around her, the hospital buzzed with life, brightly lit and humming with activity, but in here they dimmed the lights at ten o'clock, trying to get the newborns on a circadian rhythm.

"What's the matter, what's the matter?" Barachiel crooned, looking into the bassinet that contained the unhappy baby. "You're upset because you don't have a name yet, aren't you?" She leaned down and picked up the newborn, cradling her against her ample bosom. "Shh, everything's okay," she soothed.

She wasn't concerned, even before she picked the infant up. She could see, even in the dim light, that the baby's glow was a healthy, vibrant gold, a gauzy, iridescent cocoon that surrounded her.

There were twenty-two babies in the nursery that night, and most of them had a good glow, in all different colors of the rainbow. The only thing they had in common was the shimmering quality of their light, the luminous sparkle.

Barachiel had been able to see the glows her whole life, though she'd never spoken about them to anyone. It was often discussed in literature, in fiction, particularly. Stephen King, one of her favorites, talked about it a lot; he'd even written an extremely popular book about it, with his name for it as the title of the book.

Barachiel herself just called it glow, because that's usually what she saw. She was pretty sure her mama and grandma had been able to see it, too, though they'd never discussed it with her. Barachiel believed with all her heart that it was a gift from god, a little sprinkle of something he'd given her.

She carefully placed the now quiet baby girl Tomlinson back in the basinet, and went back to her chair, lowering her bulk into it with a sigh of relief.

She knew that the other nurses were a little in awe of her, and how she just seemed to be able to tell things about the babies, sometimes. She knew when a cry was because the ID bracelet was too tight, or if a baby just needed a cuddle, like the little girl with no name. It had been this way all her life, and she didn't question it.

Tonight, she was worried.

The Gardener baby, 7 pounds, two ounces, was lying quietly in his bassinet, doing nothing wrong, seemingly healthy. He had a bit of dark fuzz on his head, and looked kind of like his mother, the very nice English lady in room 328b.

Barachiel loved parents like his. They were so young (by her standards, anyway), and so obviously in love, and overjoyed by his birth. His mother had reached eagerly for him when Barachiel had wheeled him in, and his father had been bursting with pride and happiness to see his wife and son together.