Tu Es Ma Lumière

36 - Complications *Modern*

(This isn't exactly happy Frary, but it's supportive Francis, so I hope that makes it better. Also, the start is a little dark, but I couldn't figure out how to make the scene believable and not boring if I wrote it in real time. Also, I'm pretty sure that this is in the same universe from part 11, even though it has minor differences. Also, it's really bad, so please bare with me.)

It wasn't supposed to be like this. The Dauphine was supposed to go into labour a few days before her due date, her water was supposed to break in the middle of the night. She was supposed to wake up her husband with a pillow to his face when their bedroom was still dark. She was supposed to breathe through her contractions as Francis ran around their rooms collecting things and calling people, telling them that the baby was coming. They were supposed to ride to the hospital in a private car with midwives and doctors ready to collect her with a stretcher at the door. Their family and friends were supposed to be waiting in the waiting room, the press outside awaiting information eagerly. She was supposed to be hooked up to machines and labour for a day and a half without medication, then a healthy baby boy was supposed to slip through her thighs and let out a healthy cry immediately after his birth. He was supposed to be given to her immediately after and suckle at her breast. A rush of love was supposed to go through her and she'd adore her baby boy like no other.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be a week overdue and have to be induced in the middle of the day. Her husband wasn't supposed to be freaking out and being unhelpful throughout the labour. He wasn't supposed to have forgotten the bags in their way to the hospital. She wasn't supposed to be contracting so hard, yet progressing so slowly. She wasn't supposed to have no access to pain relief of any kind, thanks to the Queen banning it, fearing that it would do harm to her precious first grandchild. She wasn't supposed to have been put on oxygen immediately after the pitocin, since neither her or the child was reacting well to it. The baby wasn't supposed to refuse to lay in the right position to cause easier dilation and eliviate pain. There shouldn't be nobody in the waiting rooms, for they were all living their own lives and being on their own vacations, nobody waiting by the phone for the news of the birth of the Dauphin and Dauphine's first child. The baby's heart wasn't supposed to suddenly stop. She shouldn't have stopped dilating at six centimetres. She shouldn't have suddenly gushed with blood. The room shouldn't have exploded into frantic action. She shouldn't have been injected with something that was supposed to calm her screams and tears. Francis wasn't supposed to be suddenly ripped away from her, only adding to her fears. They shouldn't have yelled out for a cesarean section. They shouldn't have ignored her frantic pleas for them to not conduct one. Her bed wasn't supposed to have been suddenly wheeled from the wall and slam into the doors. It shouldn't have been like this. It shouldn't have been like this. It shouldn't have been like this.

The last thing she remembers before she suddenly has a child was the pain of injections and the feeling of a tube being shoved down her throat. It shouldn't have been like this.

~~

The lights are so bright. Why are they so bright? Even before she actually opens her eyes, the bright white lights blind her, bringing a groan from her sore and dry throat. Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt?

"Mary," a familiar voice gasped. Such a beautiful, soothing voice. She hears boots hitting the hospital floor at a rapid rate as the voice runs to her. She swallows thickly, whimpers again. Mightily, she opens her eyes. Her body sags as her eyes focus on the horrid strobe lights and the ceiling. She feels him grab at her right hand, feels the coldness of his wedding rings. "Mary, can you hear me?" he asks. He sounds like hell, now that she thinks about him. Why does he sound like that? Gruff and exhausted, not like the soothing melody she had grown accustomed to.