Finnick and Annie

Fading

I start to really freak out when the machines start beeping. You don't have to be a doctor to know when things are going wrong. It's not just the machines and the look on the doctor's face. Annie is slipping.

Her cries grow fainter, and her lids start to droop.

"Annie!"

She manages to glance in my direction.

"It's okay." Her voice is barely above a whisper.

"Annie, hang on," I beg. Her eyes close again.

"Finnick, maybe it's best if you wait outside," says Dr. Marietta. I shake my head.

"What is going on?" I ask, though I can see the blood pooling on the floor. I'm not sure how much blood is normal in this kind of situation.

"We almost have the baby," she says.

"What is happening to Annie?" I ask, the thought of meeting my son far from my mind.

"She's losing a lot of blood," she says curtly. "We're going to get her into surgery as soon as we get him out. Push, Annie."

I feel weak. I feel helpless. I feel tears running down my face. Horrible thoughts run wild in my head.

Out of all the ways I feared Annie dying, I never thought of childbirth. Frankly, I never thought we'd ever get to have a child. This feels like a sick joke.

The nurse standing to her right shakes her slightly to keep her awake. She manages another push, and through the nurses and the beeping machines I can hear Caspian. Two nurses are gathered around to take him, but I can't tear my eyes away from my unconscious wife.

I grip her limp hand and beg her to wake up as the doctor cuts the umbilical chords and the baby is whisked away in a clean towel.

Soon a male nurse is trying to pull me away. "You need to come with me."

"No," I protest.

I try to yank my arm away, but he's stronger than me. He pulls more forcefully and I stumble, but he manages to catch me and escort me outside.

He sets me down on the cold metal chairs and rushes back in the room. I catch a glimpse of Annie's pale face through the crowd of nurses, then the door closes and I'm completely alone.

Hugo joins me a few minutes later. I'm sure he heard about what was going on, but he just sits quietly by my side at a loss for words.

"They're very good doctors," he reassures me. "And Annie's strong."

I shake my head.

People don't usually describe Annie as strong. Although she is. Of course she is. But that doesn't matter. The strongest person in the world could die of blood loss. I've seen many people bleed to death. Sometimes it happens in just a matter of minutes.

I can hear the doctors talking over each other in the room. I can hear Caspian crying every now and then. He's alive. I should be jumping up and down. I've been waiting years for this day, but seeing my son feels so unimportant when Annie is in danger.

The door opens and I jump to my feet, anxious for news of my wife. The nurse who dragged me out of the room now pushes my son in a small bassinet. He's wrapped in a pale blue blanket, and all I can see is his bright pink face.

For a moment I'm speechless, but the chatter inside the hospital room grows louder and I remember to be terrified.

"Annie?" I mutter.

The nurse looks apologetic. "They're still working. She's getting a blood transfusion. The doctor will be out soon."

"He's beautiful," says Hugo; his eyes are glued to the bassinet.

"Would you like to hold him before I take him to the nursery?" asks the nurse.

I look at Hugo; he gives me an encouraging smile. I think he just wants me to stop worrying about Annie.

"Sure."

The nurse gently lifts the baby from the bassinet and places him in my shaky arms. He's warm and delicate. I can't believe how tiny he is.

"Hey," I whisper. "Caspian."

The baby's mouth opens in a little circle for the cutest yawn I've ever seen.

"It's nice to finally meet you," I tell him. "But right now I need to make sure your mom is okay."

I hand the baby back to the nurse and wipe tears from my eyes. I watch as the nurse rolls Caspian away, turning left and out of sight. I set my eyes on the closed door in front of me once again.

Please, Annie. I need you.