A Chimera Trinity Prequel

Twenty-Eight Years Ago

Thirty-nine hours and twenty-seven minutes. A day and a half of excruciating pain I had begun to think would never end. The ebb and flow had shifted to mostly flow as each hour passed, until I could barely remember my own name, much less ask for better pain management.

And then finally, relief! At least in part. The squalling bundle they hustled away to a table for examination was no more than a blur to me. I would have tried to focus, but I was already away in a new wave of agony. Tiny wails sounded like an echo until I realized that it was a new little voice singing backup for the first. Two miniature people who had put me through so much to get here, but I wanted nothing more than to cuddle them close and press kisses to what I assumed would be fuzzy little heads.

Why were they so far away? Shouldn't the have been put on my chest as soon as they arrived? My sweet little... girls? Boys? I didn't even know the genders of my children. Panic threatened to overtake me as I strained my neck as much as possible to catch a glimpse of them. Before I could get a good look, another contraction wracked my body, making me cry out in agony.

Something was wrong! The babies were here, how come it still hurt so badly? And why weren't these doctors concerned? Hell, were they even doctors? Rather than white coats and paper hats, the people delivering my baby were in everyday street clothes. That didn't seem right.

Prenatal care hadn't been an option for me, not when I needed to remain off the grid to stay safe, but surely when someone found me in labor, they'd have taken me to a hospital. I was in a medical bed that inclined and had rails for me to grab onto, which I suddenly had to do again. The urge to push was unbearable, so I bore down with everything I had left. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

A third cry rent the air and my mind struggled to grasp the truth.

Three.

I had three babies. Three screeching, vulnerable, brand-new babies.

Something in my heart cracked wide open and reshaped in a way that would never be the same as it was before this moment. Every bad decision I had ever made didn't matter anymore. Only the future was important, what was to come for me and my children.

"Are they alright?" I asked, my voice a harsh rasp from what had been hours of screaming and grunting. My demand for an epidural had been refused, but once the delirium had set in, it was all I could do to keep breathing and stay conscious between the agonizing contractions.

Women I assumed had to be nurses—despite their lack of scrubs—bustled around to the side of the bed, seeing to the babies.

Not one of them answered me.

"Doctor," I called to the man at the sink scrubbing his hands clean, "are my babies okay?"

More silence met my question. Why were they ignoring me?

The more I looked around, the more things weren't making sense. Closer examination of my surroundings told me I was definitely not in a hospital as I would have assumed. While there was plenty of medical equipment, like the heart monitor that beeped incessantly beside me and the warming beds that hid my babies from view, the walls were a dingy gray and the floors were covered in grimy industrial carpet.

Where there had just been wails of discontent from my newborns, all three had quieted down, mewling and whimpering as the nurses attended to them.

"Finish up," commanded the doctor. He was a tall man, not built at all like how I'd have pictured an obstetrician. His forearms bulged with muscles where they were exposed below his rolled shirtsleeves. The bronzed skin was spattered with what could only be my blood, but he didn't seem overly concerned as he snapped off latex gloves and tossed them away.