Chapter 18: Awakening

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        The first thing to register in Kat's mind was the distant buzzing of minds gently poking at her own. The second was the pain.

        Kat rolled her head one way and then the other, feeling cushion on both sides. She tried with great effort to open her eyes, but she barely managed it. For a moment all she could see was the bright light until it focused into four scattered about the ceiling. "Mm. . ." Kat groaned as she tried to cover her eyes.

        "Christiana?" Charles's voice was the next thing to register, the sound of it so close. Encouraged, Kat opened her eyes more.

        "Christiana, can you hear me?" That was Charles's voice. Kat looked to her right, the direction it came from, and finally, her eyes found blue.  

        "Charles," Kat breathed his name, Charles taking her hand in his from where he sat next to her hospital bed. The memories of what had happened before seemed to flash through her mind. "It wasn't a dream, it was—"

        "It was real," Charles finished for her, squeezing her hand. "I'm afraid so."

        Kat looked down at her arm where an IV was inserted. Some sort of pain reliever was dripping into it from the medical bag hung by her bed, the mix of it helping out with her pain even though she could still feel it there. "How did I get here?" 

        A moment of silence passed before Charles answered her. "I don't quite remember how we got here," he answered honestly. "Apparently, I was in shock. That's what they told me. I was . . . stunned by my injuries."  He seemed oddly calm yet hesitant about it, not meeting Kat's eyes when she looked at him.

        His injuries.

        Oh, no. Kat finally looked at Charles, examining him as she looked him up and down. He wasn't standing, of course, but he wasn't sitting in any regular chair. The one Charles sat in had wheels on his sides, custom made. A wheelchair.

        "Charles," she gasped when she began to realize, but he still did not meet her eyes.  

        "No, I've come to terms with it," he said sadly, but Kat knew so much better than that. "I've had time to adjust."

        "What do you mean?  How long has it been?"

        Charles took in a deep breath before he finally met her eyes. "You've been in a medically induced coma for nearly a month, now," he began. "I was in for just over a week before they released me." He looked over Kat then, pausing and looking at where the hospital blankets were bunched up around her middle, stuck in thought.

        "The bullet that struck me didn't penetrate through the material of the suit Hank designed. The bullet, however, was under Erik's power when it deflected.  It increased the speed and power of it, so when it hit my back, it. . ."  Charles went silent for another moment, unable to say it until finally, the words came out of his mouth.  

        "I'm paralyzed from the waist down," he finally admitted.  He looked up to meet Kat's eyes where she looked like she was about to cry—and for him, she wanted to.  "Permanently. But Hank has a great help in helping me to adjust. Even designed this chair for me."

        Kat nodded slowly as she took in the information, having to accept it herself. "So I've been in a comatose for almost a month. Medically induced. Why?"

        "They said you had a great deal of intracranial pressure, and you weren't doing well when you were anywhere close to consciousness." Charles squeezed her hand again and tried to soothe her with his own mind. It was almost fascinating how he could remain so calm about everything. It almost angered Kat. Charles continued, "They said. . ."

        Kat's eyes knitted together. "What? What did they say?"

        "They said . . . that it wasn't good for the two of you."

        Kat paused, more confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

        Charles looked like he didn't want to answer. "You have to understand, Christiana; I had to convince the doctors and nurses not to worry about your feline features because we didn't need that publicity. But that wasn't the only thing they were concerned about."

        Kat blinked, sitting up more despite the pain that shot through her abdomen once more. "Charles, what the hell is going on? Tell me what's wrong with me!"

        "Rest, love, you need to relax," Charles insisted. Then a smile appeared on Charles's lips, and he almost looked amused for a moment. 

        "Tell me!"

        "Nothing is wrong with you, Christiana."

        "Then what the hell are you talking about?!" Kat looked at him with wide eyes, staring incredulously as she waited for her answer. She knew that she could use telepathy to figure it out if Charles let her, but her mind was in a very weak state. She could hardly focus on anything like that.

        Charles took another deep breath, his thumb rubbing over Kat's knuckles while his face looked torn between happiness and sadness. "Christiana," he said her name slowly, lowering his voice.  "You're pregnant with my child."


        The tests were positive. The pain and sickness were real—impossibly so. The sonogram was what really did it for them, as from the first moment Kat heard the heartbeat, she was in love. They said it was a boy. But there was something wrong.

        "The baby is growing at an alarming rate," Charles explained to her while Kat just stared down at her stomach, rubbing her hand over the bump that was far too big for having only been pregnant for a month. Well, almost a month, with everything and more to show for it. "Hank said the growing began to accelerate immediately upon the union of our sex cells."

        Kat was listening, but she couldn't take her eyes off of her belly. There was a baby in there. A real baby.

        Their son.

        "That explains the pain I felt that day of the crisis," Kat added. That was what they had begun referring to that day as. The crisis.

        Charles nodded. "I should have known something was off. At the rate of growth, you're showing at nearly three months already. I've been trying to keep the hospital staff at bay because we don't have the right equipment just yet to bring you home and perform the right tests just yet. Hank expects the equipment to arrive any day."

        "'Home.'" Kat repeated that word and looked at Charles. "They're all at the mansion, aren't they? Hank, Alex, Sean, and Moira?"

        "All but Moira. I had to send Moira back to the CIA. I couldn't let her stay—not with the burden of having to continue hiding us from the government."

        "So you cleared her mind?"

        "Of everything that mattered, yes." Charles looked at her with an almost amused expression. "Any more questions?"

        She thought for a second, rubbing her hand absentmindedly over her abdomen. The baby was kicking. Despite the pain, Kat smiled. "Just one," she answered as she looked at Charles, a twinkle in her eyes.  

        "What is it, love?"

        Kat grinned excitedly. "What should we name him?

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