InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Of Gods and Monsters ❯ Chapter 56: At Last ( Chapter 58 )

Of Gods and Monsters: Chapter 56

 

A/N: You know, just when I think I'm going to get a chapter written in a reasonable amount of time, something comes along and eats my brain. But, hey. We're getting closer to the end, and that makes me happy. Thanks to Ithilwen and Everstar and a bunch of people at the Zamaa forums, and ESPECIALLY Somnambulicious, who was an invaluable help during the writing of this chapter. So. No, this isn't the last chapter; yes, we're getting there.

 

Chapter 56: At Last

 

 

If at any time during the previous months anyone had asked Teles what her thoughts were on being human, her answer might have been something along the lines of “barely tolerable.” In only moments, that opinion had plummeted significantly. She had the strangest - and most disconcerting - sensation that her body was no longer under her control. Again she felt that odd, internal tightening, which she had chalked up to the child's reaction to sensing her anxiety during the battle, but it had somehow grown more intense. It was appearing less and less likely that what she was experiencing was anxiety.

 

She gasped as something tensed and grew tight across her lower back, spreading around to her abdomen.

 

Yes, her opinions on being human had certainly taken a downturn.

 

“Already?” Inuyasha blurted.

 

Sesshoumaru shot his brother a glare. “Now?” the youkai echoed as they made their way back to the quarantine hut. “Precisely what do you mean by, `now,' monk?”

 

“Yes, little monk,” Teles said, tightly “What do you mean by—” she inhaled sharply, never finishing the sentence. She was finding that it took quite a bit of concentration to walk - walking while talking, at the moment, was out of the question.

 

The little monk glanced at her, and for a moment it looked as if he was going to laugh, despite the fact that he himself appeared to be in no small amount of discomfort. “I mean, Teles-sama, your child has decided that now is as good a time as any to make your acquaintance.”

 

A weak “Oh,” was the only reply Teles was able to manage as they entered the quarantine hut, which had undergone minimal damage from the Hydra; inside, the brazier was still burning, though not as enthusiastically. The bedding, especially, looked appealing to Teles, who was having a fair bit of difficulty standing upright.

 

Sango burst into the hut not long after, her cheeks pink with cold and exertion. “Kaede-sama is on her way.” She bit her lip and looked around at the crowd in the hut and shook her head. “Kagome-chan, take Miroku, Inuyasha and Sessh—”

 

“I am staying, taiji-ya.”

 

She pursed her lips and frowned before moving forward and taking Teles by the arm, gently pushing Miroku toward the door. “Miroku, Inuyasha, go with Kagome-chan to Kaede-sama's hut and tend their injuries. Sesshoumaru, you can stay until—”

 

“Go with them, Sesshoumaru.” Teles lifted her head and looked at her husband, her expression grave.

 

He looked at her a moment, his jaw tensing. “I am staying,” he said again.

 

Those simple words made frustration blossom in Teles' chest, and she gritted her teeth as Sango helped her down to her hands and knees, easing the pregnant woman's body into a position that relieved her lower back of some of the worst of the pressure and discomfort she was experiencing. The tightening sensations felt as if they might to have stopped for the time being, allowing her to catch her breath. Teles leaned down, resting her head against her forearms, trying to control her breathing - and her temper.

 

In truth, part of her did want him in there with her. She was afraid. She had no idea what this human body was doing, aside from the obvious: trying to expel the infant within her. His presence was a reassurance. On the other hand, a larger part of her did not want him seeing her in such pain when she knew there was nothing he could do about it. Besides that, she didn't want him getting in Sango and Kaede-sama's way.

 

No, if she wanted him to leave, she had to make him believe it. Teles lifted her head and glared at him, green eyes locking with gold. “In Hades' name, youkai,” she ground out through her clenched teeth, “I told you to go with them. Do not argue with me. Not now. Go.”

 

He looked at her for a long moment and Teles realized for the first time how much damage the Hydra had inflicted on him. His left arm was burned, the flesh red and blistered from the monster's blood. Even the spots on his kimono where he'd been splashed were completely eaten away, and the skin beneath burned as well. He crouched down, placing his unhurt hand on her head, his thumb rubbing her damp forehead slowly.

 

“I will stay until the old miko arrives.”

 

Teles knew that a compromise was better than she could hope for, and she nodded. “Very well.”

 

Kagome, who had been standing by the doorway throughout this, coughed. “I should probably get to Kaede-baachan's - if you need anything...” she trailed off. “If you need anything, let me know.”

 

Sango nodded once, and Kagome was gone, but Teles didn't have long to dwell on what was happening around her. She felt another wave of tight discomfort, and gasped raggedly, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, holding her breath until the pain passed.

 

“No, no -- not like that,” Sango said, her tone reassuring and quiet. “Don't hold your breath.”

 

“It hurts,” Teles replied tightly, her eyes still closed.

 

“I know, but breathing will help you relax.”

 

Teles let out a sharp bark of incredulous laughter. “Relax?” How in Gaia's name could she be expected to relax through such an ordeal as this? The cramping was just as bad as anything she'd gone through during the child's worst days, before Sesshoumaru had learned how to soothe him, when it seemed as if she'd been in pain constantly. She hadn't been able to relax then - how could she be expected to relax now?

 

The taiji-ya gave her an apologetic smile. “I realize it probably sounds impossible, but you're going to have to trust me. Breathe through the pain - in through the nose, and out the mouth.” She demonstrated and Teles followed, and as she did, she found that her discomfort never faded, but became somewhat less difficult to manage. Gradually she began to calm down, and when she looked up again, Kagome, Inuyasha, and Miroku had all left - she didn't remember hearing them leave. Now Sesshoumaru knelt several arms' lengths away, watching her intently. Just then, the reed flap fluttered, and a gnarled hand pushed it aside. Kaede came inside; Teles looked briefly at Sango, then at her husband.

 

The youkai nodded stood without a word before crossing the room. He hesitated only a moment in the doorway. “I will be outside,” he said. And then he was gone.

 

Teles let out a deep breath, resting against her forearms again. She could hear Kaede and Sango speaking in soft tones and soon the taiji-ya's footsteps were thudding across the floor; she was leaving the hut. Teles looked at Kaede, eyes wide. “Where is she going?”

 

“There are some more items we'll require. I've asked Sango to collect them. You needn't worry; she'll be coming back shortly.” The old woman smiled a little. “Though I suspect it won't be long before you're too distracted to worry about much of anything.”

 

“It's true, then? I'm...” Teles bit her lip and took a deep, shuddering breath that had nothing at all to do with “breathing through the pain” and everything to do with trying to control her thundering heartbeat and slowly-growing fear. “I'm having the baby now?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Kaede replied, kneeling with a soft grunt. “Sooner than I'd expected, but from what Sango and houshi-dono tell me, hanyou pregnancies are far shorter than what a human woman bearing a human child would go through.”

 

Teles couldn't imagine tolerating pregnancy another minute; she couldn't fathom a longer pregnancy. “...How much shorter?”

 

“Nine moons instead of five or six.”

 

She grimaced and started to reply, but another wave of cramping pain gripped her; this one was more intense than the one before, lasting even longer, and she found that she couldn't stop the ragged cry that tore through her throat. It hurt, and all the breathing in the world wasn't going to alleviate what she was going through.

 

After an eternity, or so it felt, the miserable tightening subsided minutely, and Teles rested against her forearms again, catching her breath. She was trying to find something in her experience to which she could compare the discomfort. First she thought of the spell that had stripped away her divinity: that had been a white-hot blaze she'd felt searing her flesh. Next she thought of the morning after her child's youkai blood had fallen dormant for the night; she remembered the heavy pulse throughout her body, the sharp, cramping spasms that clutched her. She also remembered thinking that nothing could be worse than that.

 

Teles had the sinking suspicion that things were going to get much worse than that if the current state of affairs was any indication.

 

She remained like that for a while, feeling the waves of tight, hot cramps as they descended on her slowly before building until the pain felt as if it would never end, and then easing away, leaving her trembling, sweat-soaked, and nauseous. She looked up and realized at some point in time Sango had returned: she was tending a warm, crackling fire in the brazier, heating a kettle of what Teles assumed was water. There was also a blanket and a small stack of neatly folded towels nearby that looked as if they'd come from Kagome's home.

 

The taiji-ya looked up and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

 

Teles drew in a shuddering breath and let it out. “...Is it supposed to hurt quite this much?”

 

“Unfortunately, yes. Human birth is often very painful for the mother. But with any luck, it will be over quickly.”

 

“How quickly?”

 

“...I don't know, Teles-sama. That part is up to the baby.”

 

 

 

 

Sesshoumaru had been sitting a short distance from the quarantine hut, listening intently to the sounds inside when, after a while, he heard footfalls crunch through the snow. Normally he would have been able to smell anyone approaching, but he was so focused on the hut and the sounds and smells coming from within. After a while, his brother strode up to him, brows contorted in puzzlement. “Oi, what're you doing just sitting out here?”

 

Sesshoumaru looked up from where he knelt, arms tucked inside his sleeves; the linen was riddled with scorches and tears, and did nothing to stop the brisk wind. The condition of his kimono mattered little; he would task Jaken with its repair later. “I am waiting.”

 

He shot Sesshoumaru a dubious look. “Kagome said it could take a long time. Sometimes a whole day. Sometimes more.”

 

The youkai grimaced; it was just one more way in which human bodies were simply less efficient than youkai, or even hanyou. A longer delivery meant there was more time for things to go wrong. He hoped the Hydra was the only minion sent by Hera. If more were to arrive, Teles' safety, as well as that of their child, would be severely compromised. “Then I will wait that long.”

 

Inuyasha didn't say anything for a moment; he pursed his lips, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “You should've come to Kaede-babaa's hut and let Kagome patch you up.” He nodded at Sesshoumaru's burned arm. “Looks like you could use it. She's still down there, you could—”

 

Sesshoumaru shot his brother an irritated glance. “I will heal on my own. I have no use for human medicines.”

 

He shrugged. “That's what I figured you'd say.”

 

“So why are you still here?”

 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Kagome thought I needed to come out and talk to you.”

 

“...Why?”

 

“Hell if I know. Something about how you shouldn't be alone right now or some girly crap like that.” The youkai said nothing, only looked blankly at Inuyasha. After a moment, the hanyou folded his arms across his chest. “I tried to tell her it was a dumb idea!”

 

“Yes, well, if nothing else I have learned that humans behave... differently from us.”

 

“...Us?” Inuyasha asked, one eyebrow cocking. “What do you mean, `us'?”

 

“I mean,” Sesshoumaru started to say, but the words trailed off and he blinked slowly. After a moment he shook his head. “You are part youkai. You heal like a youkai.”

 

“No, I don't.”

 

“Do not be ridic—”

 

“Listen, Sesshoumaru. I'm not full youkai. I'm half - I'm...” he trailed off, scowling and looking away. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “I'm something else. So, yeah, I'm faster than humans, and I heal faster than humans, but you should know as well as anyone - you, who used to remind me every chance you got that my blood was dirty - that being hanyou isn't the same thing as being youkai.”

 

“I know that, Inuyasha.”

 

Inuyasha dropped to the ground in a crouch, the better to meet his brother's level gaze. “No, you don't. You don't have the first damned idea what it means to be a hanyou, because you've never been one.”

 

“Then I will learn,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

 

“How? How the hell are you going to learn about being a hanyou when your kid is going to want to know? What are you going to tell him when he starts figuring out that he'll never be able to do all the things his old man can do? How are you going to explain it to him?”

 

“I'd rather thought that would be your job,” Sesshoumaru replied stiffly.

 

“Yeah, well there are going to be times when I won't be there. I can't stick around day and night just in case you have a question about your kid. You need to be able to explain it to the squirt. The kid's in for some real shit, Sesshoumaru. Trust me, I know.”

 

Sesshoumaru was quiet for a few moments. He'd never given very much thought to Inuyasha's childhood, or any of the time the hanyou had spent, growing into the impatient, loud-mouthed annoyance he'd become. But as he tried now to grasp it, to wrap his mind around what his half-brother had gone through, living among humans and being scorned by them, only to find that youkai scorned him as well, one thought kept rising to the surface of his mind:

 

Things will be different, now.

 

“My child will not be forced to endure the same circumstances you did,” he said, finally.

 

“Yeah, and that's part of the problem, Sesshoumaru.” The youkai only blinked, puzzled. Inuyasha let out an impatient sigh and shook his head. “I had to grow up alone. I had to fight my own battles, because no one was going to fight them for me. I had to stand up for myself, because no one else was going to stand up for me. Are you getting it yet?”

 

“What, precisely, are you accusing me of, brother? After everything, do you think perhaps that I will abandon this child, casting its fate to the four winds?”

 

“No, dumbass. But you can't go around cutting off the head of every idiot who's going to give the kid a ration of shit.”

 

“...I fail to see why not.”

 

“All that's going to teach him is that running for Daddy is going to make everything all better. He's got to know how to stand up for himself, Sesshoumaru. He's going to have family - hell, more family than I had, anyway - and that's good. No son-of-a-bitch half-brothers trying to kill him either, which is even better. But one of the hardest lessons he's going to have to learn, and that he can never forget, is that acceptance isn't always going to come easily. Sometimes it will, but most of the time it won't; people are going to hate him because he's not wholly human. Youkai are going to hate him because he's not wholly youkai. And you can't fight every battle for him. The kid's gotta learn to be tough. You're going to have to teach him to fight for himself. Hell, he should even fight you if he has to.”

 

Sesshoumaru thought of Teles. “That... will not be a problem.” Particularly if the child inherits her temper.

 

Inuyasha nodded once. “Good,” he said, looking at the birthing hut. “Has Sango come out with any news?”

 

“No, but I believe Teles is doing fine.”

 

“What makes you say—” Just then, a long, hoarse yell came from inside the hut. Inuyasha jumped, but Sesshoumaru remained placid.

 

“Sesshoumaru, you bastard! You son of a bitch! May you and your accursed golden eyes rot in the lowest level of Hades' realm for all eternity!”

 

The hanyou blinked as another, more colorful string of invectives came from within the hut. He looked at his half-brother. “Don't you think you should make sure she's okay?”

 

“Brother, as long as my mate has energy enough to curse my name, I'm quite convinced she's perfectly fine.”

 

 

 

Kagome looked at her watch and frowned. It had been only a few hours since Teles had gone into labor, but it felt like it had been so much longer than that. She blew out a breath and shook her head. All we can do is wait, I guess.

 

A short while later, the flap across the entrance rustled and Inuyasha came in, brushing a bit of snow from his haori. Kagome looked at him expectantly, but he shook his head. “Nothing yet. Just a lot of Teles damning Sesshoumaru to hell, which tells him she's doing just fine.” He sat down in front of the fire.

 

“But is Sesshoumaru all right?” Kagome glanced at the pot of water above the brazier, pulling it off before it started to boil. Shadows jumped and danced on the walls, and flames played across Inuyasha's face, but that was the only movement in the hut. Miroku was currently asleep on a pallet, his body fighting off the Hydra's poison; Shippou and Kirara leaned against him, dozing lightly.

 

“I think he's scared out of his fucking wits.”

 

Kagome poured the water into a tetsubin, careful not to spill. “Do you think he'd want some tea?” Inuyasha gave her an incredulous look. “...What?” she asked.

 

A voice, husky with sleep, came from the area of the sleeping mat. “I think, Kagome-sama, that anyone who bothers a youkai such as Sesshoumaru in what is surely a state of serious frustration, deserves whatever he gets.”

 

Kagome sighed a little and watched the tea leaves begin to unfurl in the water. “That's a really good point.”

 

“I, on the other hand,” the monk continued, “would quite appreciate a cup.”

 

Inuyasha picked up an empty cup. “You want a cup of tea? I'll give you a—”

 

“Ah, ah, Inuyasha - Kagome-sama did say I should remain still and rest while her medicines took effect.”

 

“That was when she thought you were dying.”

 

There was a slight movement in the shadows. Kagome jumped and yelped, before turning and glaring at the prone monk, who was still lying with eyes closed.

 

“Then again,” Inuyasha added with a growl, “night's still young.”

 

 

 

 

Teles hurt.

 

Everywhere on her body, every muscle, everything down to her bones hurt. The waves of cramping pain had at some point started coming faster and faster, each one more intense than the last. It hurt. There were moments when the pressure building through her was so great, she would have sworn she was being split in half. Another contraction passed; sweat poured from her body as tears slid down either cheek. She wanted it over. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, she wanted Sesshoumaru. She was in pain, and she was afraid; she wanted him there with her.

 

Then another wave of pain crashed over her, and she screamed out another litany of curses, damning the youkai to the lowest level in Hell.

 

“It's all right,” Sango was saying as she brushed Teles' damp bangs back from her sweaty forehead. “You and the baby are going to be fine.”

 

“Sango,” Kaede said a short while later, “she's ready.” The old woman was behind Teles, and while she could not see Kaede, something about the miko's presence helped ease the worst of her fears. Teles had no idea what to expect, but Kaede did and that was no small reassurance.

 

Sango nodded once and looked down at Teles again. “You're going to have to move now, Teles-sama. So you can have the baby.”

 

“Aren't I having it now?” Teles cried plaintively.

 

“Well... yes, but...” and Sango began moving, easing one of Teles' arms around her shoulders, easing the pregnant woman into a squatting position. “That will help.”

 

Kaede's firm hands steadied Teles from behind. Her touch was warm. Solid. “You will need to push down, child.” The way she said made Teles believe such a thing were actually possible and within her reach.

 

“And that will make him... come out?” Teles panted. She'd barely been in this new position for any time at all, and already it felt like her muscles were trembling and twitching. One hand gripped Sango's shoulder while the other was braced against a nearby wall.

 

There was no time for either woman to reply; another blinding surge of pain pulsed through Teles, no different than the others that had come before - it still hurt. She still felt as if she were being split in two. Nothing had changed.

 

“You have to push, Teles-sama,” Sango said, her voice low. “Look at me, Teles-sama. Look.” Teles did as she was told, and Sango said to her, “Push. Now.”

 

She took a breath and bore down on the pain rising within her, pushing against it as hard as she could, willing the child to exit her body and end this trial once and for all.

 

Nothing of the sort happened.

 

“It didn't work!” Teles yelled.

 

“I'm afraid you're going to have to push more than once,” Sango replied apologetically.

 

“You said `push'! You didn't say anything about more than once!”

 

“Teles-sa—”

 

“I can't!”

 

Sango placed a hand on either side of Teles' face, forcing the pregnant woman to meet her gaze. The taiji-ya's dark eyes were intense, determined; she almost appeared angry. When she spoke, her tone brooked no argument:

 

“You have to.”

 

 

 

Sesshoumaru remained outside the birthing hut, long after Inuyasha had left. He watched the sky as the sun inched its way westward, trying to find continued reassurance every time Teles screamed a litany of curses, damning him in some of the most imaginative ways possible. But as the day wore on, the air grew thick with the scent of blood and other things not entirely familiar to his nose. Eventually his mate's cries had lost the edge of indignation, taking on a ragged, desperate quality. She was in pain, and there, twined within the scent of her blood was a note of fear, growing gradually stronger.

 

She was afraid and in pain, and he was powerless to do anything about it. A violent restlessness was growing inside of him; he wished to find something worthy of killing, but dared not move from that spot. He hated it - the air stunk of blood and fear, but he could not leave; he heard every sound his mate made, but could not go to her. He could only watch the sky and wait.

 

 

 

Exhaustion had seeped into Teles' bones, warring only with the pain that seemed determined never to leave her. Kaede and Sango both were still urging her to push, but she'd been doing it for so long, she felt as if she were reaching a point where her body was simply going to refuse whatever order she gave it. She felt as if she'd been there for days already - she could not push anymore. Things had seemed almost promising when Kaede had announced she could see the baby's head, but that had been so long ago. It seemed impossible that her child was stuck, and yet there seemed to be no other explanation, because he clearly wasn't moving.

 

“Sango,” she managed, her words edged in a sob, “I can't do this anymore. I'm tired. I can't do it. It hurts. Please, I can't—”

 

Then, cutting through her like a white-hot blade, was an entirely new level of pain, surpassing everything she'd experienced up until this point. It went beyond the pulsing, throbbing cramps; it was an unnatural, twisting pain that defied description and rang clearly through her mind and body. Teles' cry felt like jagged glass tearing through her throat. It wasn't supposed to have been like this. They'd told her it wasn't going to be easy, but this - this was something different, and while Teles couldn't begin to explain how she knew, it was something not-right. In fact, something was definitely wrong.

 

They'd told her to push, that she had to push despite the pain - through the pain - because that would help her body expel the infant within her. And though every fiber of Teles' being told her that pushing was an inordinately bad idea, she pushed.

 

The result was immediate and excruciating. Darkness danced on the edges of Teles' vision; the air froze in her lungs, and when she could finally draw breath, she could only let out a long, yowling cry.

 

“Kaede-sama?” Sango's voice was heavy with tension. She sounded afraid. “What's happened?”

 

It seemed like an age before the old miko replied; she too sounded deeply worried. “I'm... not sure.”

 

Teles felt the old woman's arms go around her, wizened, gnarled hands splaying out on her stomach and another eternity passed as she felt the warm tingle of spiritual energy dance across her skin. It might have felt pleasant or soothing under normal circumstances, but at present the miko's touch did nothing to ease her pain. Teles gritted her teeth, trying to breathe evenly, trying not to give way to the scream building in her chest, clawing at her throat. She was soaked with sweat and sticky with blood, and as wave after wave of sharp, bright agony pierced through her body, Teles wanted nothing more than for the entire experience to be over.

 

“Make it stop!” she cried, pleading. “Sweet gods, I'll do anything. Please, make it stop!”

 

“I... cannot be certain,” the old woman said, her voice hoarse as she pulled her hands away, “but I believe he is... fighting her.”

 

Teles felt suddenly cold when she registered Kaede's words, the reassurance she'd been feeling fled in the wake of the old woman's uncertainty.

 

 

 

 

Outside, Sesshoumaru's head snapped up. The bloodscent, which had been all but choking him, grew heavier and was sharper, until it was almost pungent with terror. Something wasn't right. In fact, something was very wrong.

 

Then came the cry. It had barely sounded human, and nothing at all like his mate, and yet he was quite certain it was not his child's first cries, either. He was on his feet in an instant, striding toward the hut, when the reed flap was pushed aside and the taiji-ya stood in the doorway, her face pale, dark eyes wide. Sesshoumaru looked down and saw that blood slicked her hands and arms, and there was a smear of red across her forehead: Teles' blood. Everything stank of blood and fear, and for one blinding, wild moment, Sesshoumaru felt his prized self-control waver and his lip curled in a snarl as he pushed past the taiji-ya, into the hut. “What have you done to her?”

 

“It's the child,” she explained quickly. “He's... we think he's resisting her - she's not strong enough to push him out of her, especially not now.”

 

“She's exhausted as it is,” the old miko said from behind Teles, getting to her feet. “As you are well aware, she has only human endurance.”

 

“Because she is human.” Sesshoumaru swallowed against the bile rising in his throat and looked at his mate.

 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. Teles was squatting, her hands braced hard against one wall, her head bowed as she breathed hard. She was clad only in her plain linen kimono; it was hitched up to her hips, soaked through with sweat and smeared with blood. There were folded cloths beneath her, stained deep red. Blood seemed to be everywhere, and that scent was mingled with another -- something else that raised memories of battle and death, and Sesshoumaru found himself vaguely nauseated by the sensory onslaught. Then she looked up at him, her green eyes wide and fever-bright as sweaty tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and cheeks.

 

He pushed past the layers of choking bloodscent, searching for something familiar that might reassure him, calm him. Beneath the flat, metallic smell, he found Teles' scent, and there, nestled within it, he caught a whisper of something different - something not quite human, and yet not wholly youkai. And it too was afraid. Another wave of pain gripped Teles, and she tilted her head back, letting out a long, ragged cry. But he had found the scent of his wife and child, and with that he felt his mind and spirit grow calm.

 

“Tell me what I must do,” he said quietly, never looking away from his mate.

 

The slayer shook her head helplessly. “I'm not sure there's anything you can do.”

 

“I do not accept that, taiji-ya,” he retorted, a soft snarl lurking beneath his words.

 

“I don't know what to tell you, Sesshoumaru! The baby is struggling against all of her efforts!”

 

“Because he is afraid,” Sesshoumaru growled. “And if you were in possession of superior senses, you'd know that.”

 

Sango opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. “...He's afraid?”

 

“They both are,” he snapped. “And if you cannot think of some—”

 

She blinked once. “...That's it. That's it.” When Sesshoumaru didn't comment, she went on. “She's afraid, and the baby's sensing it. That's why he's fighting against her efforts.”

 

“Then there is something I can do.”

 

She nodded quickly. “The same thing you've been doing, Sesshoumaru: soothe the child.”

 

Sesshoumaru nodded once and took a step forward. He was accustomed to growling against Teles' rounded stomach, but that didn't seem practical in her current position. Instead, he crouched down and wrapped his arms around her. Heat radiated off Teles' skin, and soaked through his kimono. Her body trembled with exertion as he supported her weight.

 

“Make it stop, beloved,” she managed in a whimper as thin as rice-paper.

 

Sesshoumaru didn't reply; he only pressed his chest against her back and let out a low, deep growl, hoping the taiji-ya was right.

 

 

 

 

When Teles felt Sesshoumaru's solid presence behind her and his arms go around her body, supporting her, she wanted to cry, so great was her relief. She was completely drained - so much so that even remaining upright was a chore, and the muscles in her legs had been burning and trembling. Soon the low, soothing vibrations resonated through her, and for the first time during the entire ordeal, Teles began to feel the tension that had been coiled around her like a snake begin to release.

 

“Rest,” he murmured in her ear. “You need to regain your strength.”

 

She nodded slowly, focusing on keeping her breathing slow and deep. The contractions didn't stop - that would have been too much to hope for - but as she grew less tense, the pain subsided. Gradually, she began to feel the contractions working without her; it wasn't long after that did Teles feel able to recommence with pushing. The task hadn't gotten easier, and it was still inordinately uncomfortable, but the sharp, excruciating jolts of pain were gone and she could once again concentrate on the task at hand.

 

There was no way for her to know how much time had passed - Teles felt as if she'd been at this for days, but it was more likely to have been only hours - but suddenly Sango's voice came from somewhere below her.

 

“Teles-sama, Kaede-sama, I see it!”

 

“...See what?” Teles panted.

 

“I believe she means the head,” Kaede replied.

 

“You're nearly finished, Teles-sama!”

 

Kaede placed one hand on Teles' forehead, pushing back the sweaty strands. “You must continue pushing, child. As hard as you can.”

 

Biting her lip, Teles nodded quickly, and when the tightening sensation returned, she closed her eyes and bore down, and while it hurt - there was no doubt about that, even for a moment - it was different, somehow, or perhaps it was simply the promise of the ordeal coming to an end sooner rather than later.

 

Then something changed. The tension she'd been feeling all through her body seemed to relax somewhat. Sango's voice seemed very far away.

 

“I've got him, Kaede-sama! I've got him!” Soon a thin, furious cry filled the air and Sango chuckled. “And I don't think he's very happy about it.”

 

Sesshoumaru helped her lie back, and her limbs felt like water as she let him guide her. She closed her eyes and blew out a deep breath - her body felt like it had been through battle, and she was beyond exhausted. Forcing her eyes open, she watched as Kaede quickly swaddled the squirming, crying infant before placing him on Teles' breast.

 

“Your son,” the older woman said, a small, enigmatic smile at her lips.

 

No words came as she cradled the tiny body; her throat was tight with tears as she ran her fingertips lightly over his face - one perfect nose; two eyes, screwed tightly shut as he notified the world of his displeasure; one mouth (that was clearly working just fine); and, close to his head, a tiny set of white ears - still wet and nearly hidden in a damp shock of unruly white hair; further search revealed ten tiny fingers, ten little toes. She looked up at Sesshoumaru, who was watching them, his expression a blending of disbelief, quiet shock, and (though she was certain he'd never admit it) more than a little fear.

 

“...Sesshoumaru? Are you all right, beloved?”

 

“What—” he stopped and cleared his throat, “what do you wish to name him?”

 

Teles thought for a moment. A name had occurred to her during the days she'd spent on the other side of the well, and now, as she looked at her little warrior, she knew no other name would do.

 

“Katsuro,” she said quietly, running her thumb across the indigo crescent at the infant's forehead. As she did, he ceased squirming and crying and blinked open solemn blue-grey eyes. The lids were streaked with magenta, like his father's.

 

Sesshoumaru let out a soft chuckle. “I think it's safe to say that's an apt name. I believe it will stand him in good stead.” He reached out hesitantly before running his hand across the child's head. He was quiet for several moments, looking at the baby with an unreadable expression.

 

“What's wrong, Sesshoumaru?”

 

“He is... not as I expected him to look, and yet I cannot imagine him appearing any other way.”

 

Teles was quiet a moment before replying. “He's a good bit smaller than I expected him to be, I think.” She paused, looking for a moment at Katsuro's tiny hand, presently curled into an equally tiny fist. “At least, he felt larger than this.”

 

“I imagine your experience... influenced your perception somewhat.” He looked thoughtful. “Inuyasha was roughly this size.”

 

“As were you, I'd wager - once, long before you turned into an insufferable youkai.”

 

“And my brother turned into an insufferable hanyou. Let us hope that he and I have not set a precedent.” He thought for a moment. “Of course, our son has one advantage that my brother and I are lacking.”

 

“Oh?”

“Your blood runs through his veins with mine. That should temper him somewhat.”

 

She chuckled. “You would not have always said so.”

 

But Sesshoumaru didn't smile. “I am saying so now, and that is what matters.”