Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ I Can't Make You Say Goodbye ❯ Hope ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. DB/Z/GT belongs to Toriyama-sensei, of course! Now if I can just convince him to adopt me . . . heh, heh . . .

A/N: Hi, everyone! Remember me? Well, I've returned . . . and so have the angsty deathfics, as well. Fortunately, my hand seems to be okay as long as I don't push it too much. Anyway. The idea for this story came to me because two members of my family had miscarriages, and it was a traumatic time for all of us. Now, though, both families have healthy children, so that's a miracle. This is dedicated to my little cousins, their parents, and the two little brothers that they never knew. God bless you all.

O yeah... This should be about 3 or 4 chapters long. If the chapters seem long to you, it's because I'm using the ff.n guideline of 20-30 KB for chapters. K? (And yes, it IS finished. You don't have to worry about me leaving you hanging without an ending.)

I Can't Make You Say Goodbye

Chapter One: Hope

The kitchen was filled with the sound of humming as Kuririn bustled happily around the room, whistling and singing to himself. He was making breakfast for his family, and was in an insanely happy mood. Bû had been destroyed, Goku had come back to life . . . nothing could be better.

He could hear the television in the other room, filling the downstairs with the sounds of a peppy female voice chanting, "And one . . . and two . . . and three . . . and four . . . six more, girls . . ."

Kuririn laughed. Kamesen'nin, Kuririn's former martial arts teacher, was watching his aerobics tapes again. The aged master never actually did any of the actions - he just drooled over the girls on the t.v. screen.

Kuririn shook his head, grinning, as he set the table for breakfast. He was setting down the bowls and plates when his three-year-old daughter, Marron, came into the room. AMorning, Firefly," Kuririn greeted her cheerfully. "How's my little Sleeping Beauty?"

"Good," Marron replied sleepily, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Dressed in a pink flannel nightgown with her blonde hair sticking up in wild disarray, Marron stood clutching the Piccolo doll Gohan had given her for her last birthday. "Mommy's sick in the bathroom," she declared unexpectedly.

"What?!" Kuririn shouted, dropping the chopsticks he'd been holding. The wooden utensils dropped to the floor with a clatter as he dashed upstairs, taking the steps four at a time. Skidding to a halt in front of the washroom, Kuririn resisted the urge to blast through the door and settled for pounding on it with his fist instead. "#18? Are you all right?"

"Yes," came his wife's calm voice, but Kuririn could detect a shaky quality to her tone. He heard a click, then the doorknob turned and the door was left slightly ajar.

Kuririn stepped into the washroom and saw #18 bent over the sink, holding her blonde hair back with one hand as she splashed cold water on her face. Kuririn edged close to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, but #18 shrugged it off without thinking. "What's the matter?" he asked her, his worry beginning to subside. Though #18 appeared tired and shaken, he couldn't see anything wrong with her.

#18 glanced down at him, and there was an odd light in her eyes that Kuririn thought he recognized, though he couldn't figure out why. "Kuririn . . . I've been sick like this before, about nine months before Marron was born."

Kuririn blinked a few times, not understanding, and #18 reached down and took his hand, placing it gently on her stomach. Kuririn's eyes bugged out as the connection was made in his brain, and when he looked up at her she just nodded. A wide grin spread across Kuririn's face, and he picked #18 up and spun her around.

"Put me down, you idiot," #18 slapped the back of his head, a blow that would have sent him reeling had it been given in full force, but was instead directed with an affectionate lightness.

Kuririn obligingly set his wife back on her feet, and he walked out into the hallway. #18 followed him, Kuririn grinning so much he thought his head would burst. Suddenly a thought struck him, and Kuririn stopped and spun around. #18 raised a questioning eyebrow, but Kuririn did not respond. Instead he studied her face, searching #18's expression for any trace of the insecurity and fear that had accompanied her first pregnancy . . . but there was none. #18's eyes seemed to glow with happiness, and a sense of quiet pride.

As if reading his thoughts, #18 smiled softly, a smile that immediately laid all Kuririn's fears to rest. "I'm not afraid this time," she assured him. "In fact, I've never been less so."

Joy welled up in Kuririn from the bottoms of his feet, all the way to the roots of his hair, and he levitated a few feet off the ground so that he was at eye level with her. Impulse seized him then, and without thinking Kuririn kissed her, fully prepared to be punched through the wall. #18 rarely allowed him to kiss her unless they were alone in the house, or at the very least in the privacy of their own room, but right now Kuririn didn't care.

Apparently #18 didn't, either, for instead of pushing him away, she kissed him back.

"Aren't you supposed to go in your room when you do that?" a nasal voice asked dryly.

Kuririn winced and pulled away, glancing at Oolong, who stood looking up at them with his snout wrinkled in distaste. Kuririn tried not to look at #18, for he knew what would happen next - within the next few seconds, an number of walls would acquire pig-shaped holes in them.

However, #18 surprised him. She merely turned her head to look at Kuririn, and her eyes glittered with a mischievous light Kuririn had only seen a handful of times. "I'm hungry," #18 declared, "Kuririn, why don't we have bacon for breakfast?"

Oolong's eyes popped comically, and he let out a decidedly porcine squeal as he scurried into his own room, slamming the door behind him. The lock clicked, though Kuririn thought with sadistic amusement that Oolong would be pork chops by now if #18 had actually wanted him for breakfast.

#18 laughed merrily, a sound Kuririn had not heard in a long time, and it lightened his heart. "You're in a good mood," he observed, leading her downstairs. "I've got breakfast ready. No bacon, though, I'm sorry."

#18 ruffled his hair, still chuckling. "I hope Marron takes it all right," she said, for the first time showing some apprehension.

"She should," Kuririn frowned. "I bet she'd like another girl to play with."

"But what if it's a boy?"

". . . oh . . ." Kuririn thought for a minute, then shrugged. "She likes playing with Goten and Trunks. I think she'll be fine."

#18's eyes flickered, then she forced herself to smile. "I hope you're right."

Kuririn took her hand. "I know I am. Marron's a good kid."

When the pair reached the kitchen, Marron was already eating. She glanced up as her parents entered, and her inquisitive gaze ran over them, taking in their mood and expression with well-practiced ease. A tiny grin touched her round face when she saw their joined hands. "Mommy's happy," Marron declared with childish frankness.

"Yes, she is," #18 agreed, playing with Marron's sleep-tousled hair as she sat down. "How are you?"

Marron smiled, and she held up the doll. "I'm fine. Mister Piccolo Doll says Mommy and Daddy have something to tell me."

#18 chuckled again, and she patted Mister Piccolo Doll on the head. "He's very smart. Actually, Marron-chan, Mommy is going to have a baby."

Marron's mouth dropped open, then she shot out of her chair and wrapped her mother in an enthusiastic hug. "Wow! That's great, Mommy! I always wanted a sister!"

Kuririn and #18 exchanged worried glances, and Kuririn cleared his throat. "Listen, little firefly . . . there's a chance that you could have a brother. Is that okay?"

Marron shrugged nonchalantly as she returned to her seat. "It won't be."

"Marron," #18 insisted, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. "Just pretend for a second that the baby is a boy."

"Couldn't you put it back?" Marron asked matter-of-factly, reaching for her milk.

"Marron!" #18 reprimanded her sharply.

Marron looked at her, a pained expression on her face. "I was kidding, Mommy."

"It wasn't funny. A baby is a life, even if it's a tiny one."

Kuririn glanced at her, and he put his hand over hers, squeezing her fingers in a silent admonition to be quiet. He never challenged her authority out loud in front of Marron, nor she his. #18 caught the subtle hint and shut her mouth, nodding slightly at Kuririn to acknowledge him. "Sorry, Marron. I shouldn't have yelled."

"Me, too, Mommy," Marron smiled apologetically, then thought for a minute and added, "Mister Piccolo Doll is sorry, too."

They all laughed, and the tension evaporated as though it had never been.

After breakfast, Kuririn looked at #18. "Hey, do you think we could go tell everybody? I mean, I know you didn't want to the first time, but I thought it might be different this time . . ."

#18 shook her head, smiling. "Yes, that's fine, but as long as I'm there. I'm not going to have you and the other men engaged in a male ego-fest," she waggled an eyebrow and elbowed Kuririn repeatedly in the side, in a humorous imitation of Yamucha.

Kuririn burst out laughing, and Marron chortled with glee, pointing. "That was Uncle Yamucha!" she cried delightedly. "That's really good, Mommy!"

#18 nodded her head in a small bow, then she and Kuririn got up and started clearing the table. After the dishes were done, #18 took Marron upstairs to get her dressed and ready while Kuririn called Goku. "Mommy?" Marron asked innocently as #18 combed the snarls out of her cornsilk-coloured hair.

"Mm-hmm?"

"The baby is growing inside you, right?"

#18's danger sense flared. After all her years of combat, #18 had developed a sort of uncanny knowledge of when something bad was going to happen. Now, it warned her that Marron was about to ask an uncomfortable question. "Yes . . ."

"How did it get there?"

#18 winced. Well, it was inevitable that Marron would ask that question someday. "Marron-chan, that's kind of a complicated answer, and I don't think you'd find it that interesting. If you still want to know, ask Daddy later."

Marron didn't seem too satisfied with that answer, but soon became distracted by trying to help her mother tie the red ribbons on her pigtails. #18 breathed an inward sigh of relief as Marron's chatter switched topics.

Kuririn came bounding up the stairs then, grinning as he ran into the room. "It's the two most beautiful girls on the planet," he greeted them, tweaking Marron's pigtails and winking at #18. Marron beamed, and #18 rolled her eyes. "Goku says to come on over," Kuririn announced, "I didn't tell him why, either."

"Is Goten-kun gonna' be home?" Marron wanted to know, eyes sparkling.

"Yes ma'am, little lady," Kuririn picked her up and set her on his shoulders as the family went downstairs. "I bet he'll play tea party with you again, too."

#18 smiled at that. While he would rather be out fighting, the youngest Son boy was not above playing tea party, or even dolls (though no one was supposed to know about that) with Marron. #18 liked Goten. Trunks would play with Marron occasionally, but he was quicker to call her an annoying brat than Goten would be. It was probably the genealogy.

They flew to the Son house, Marron yelling with excitement. Kuririn, making sure Marron was holding tightly to his neck, performed loops, dives, and spins that caused his daughter to nearly pass out from laughter. #18 was slightly uneasy, but she followed all Kuririn's acrobatic moves closely, and she trusted him. She knew he loved Marron more than life itself.

Some time later, they all arrived at the Sons'. Goten was waiting on the front lawn, and when Kuririn set Marron down, Goten came and took her by the hand, leading her inside. Kuririn watched Marron skip away, and he had to chuckle. "They're so cute," he observed.

#18 nodded, but didn't have time to say anything before Goku came barrelling out of the house and skidded to a stop in front of Kuririn. "What do you have to tell me?" Goku demanded, sounding like a teenage girl who was curious about the latest gossip. "Don't do this to me, Kuririn! ...Hi, #18... What?"

Kuririn laughed heartily at his best friend's childlike curiosity. "Well, Goku . . . I'll put it bluntly. #18 and I are going to have another kid."

Goku's eyes widened. "Really?" he spun around to face #18. "You mean you're - wow!" he cut himself off, then gave Kuririn a mischievous grin. "Way to go, Kuririn," he winked.

Kuririn's lip twitched as he struggled valiantly not to laugh, painfully aware of the death glares his wife was sending him. "Goku, knock it off," his voice sputtered with poorly-suppressed amusement.

Goku looked confused until he found himself the recipient of one of #18's dagger-pointed stares; then he yelped and looked nervously away. "Don't do that," he complained, "ChiChi does that. I can stand my own wife giving me the evil eye, but not somebody else's!"

"What was that about me?" ChiChi came outside, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her gaze ran over the scene, then stopped and came to rest on #18. The dark-haired woman's eyes immediately lit up, and she stepped forward to clasp #18's hands enthusiastically in her own. "Congratulations!" she exclaimed.

#18 looked at Kuririn, and he at her. "Did you - no, did you?" they asked simultaneously.

ChiChi just laughed, and she hooked her arm through #18's in a companionable manner. "You have that light in your eyes, that's all. Women know these things. Come on inside and we'll talk."

The two women walked into the house, arm in arm, leaving their respective husbands still on the front lawn. Goku shook his head, grinning. "So what're you gonna' name him?"

"'Him'?" Kuririn chuckled, sitting down in the grass. Goku joined him, lying on his back and staring at the sky. "What makes you so sure it's gonna' be a boy?"

"I'm just hoping for your sake," Goku shrugged. "You must feel outnumbered with two women in the house. I know ChiChi always wanted a girl, because she said living with three men can get pretty hectic."

Kuririn grinned slyly, and he waggled a suggestive eyebrow. "So why don't you give her one? Wouldn't be too hard."

Goku's face flushed a deep scarlet with embarrassment, an expression Kuririn hadn't seen in years. "Aww, Kuririn, now who's making dumb comments?"

Kuririn couldn't suppress the laughter anymore, and he fell over on the grass, clutching his side. "O man, Goku! I haven't seen you blush so much since the day ChiChi kissed you at the Tenkaichi Budokai!"

Goku hid his face in his hands. "I am not blushing!" he retorted, then peeked through the spaces between his fingers. ". . . am I?"

Kuririn's hysterical chuckles and tear-streaming eyes were his only reply.

******

The next few months seemed to pass by like a dream to Kuririn. As #18 drew closer to her due date, Kuririn was allowed to baby her a little - not much, of course, since she was so independent, but little things like bringing her breakfast in bed.

One day, approximately three months until the expected due date, Kuririn accosted #18 in the hallway. "Hey, do you want to go out for supper tonight with Marron and me?"

"No," #18 placed a hand on her swollen stomach and made a face. "I'm not going anywhere until this baby is born. I look like a hippopotamus."

"No, you don't," Kuririn argued, looking at her affectionately. "You look beautiful."

Marron giggled, and she tugged on #18's pant leg. "Daddy, you always say that."

Kuririn tickled her playfully. "Doesn't mean it isn't true, right? Besides, you're going to grow up to look just like Mommy."

"We hope," #18 added, eyes twinkling.

Kuririn gave her a pained look, and #18 laughed and tousled his hair. "Don't take things so seriously," she teased.

Marron considered it her duty as a "disinterested" third party to point out what her parents did not say aloud. "That means Mommy thinks Daddy is cute," she beamed up at her parents, and had to stifle a laugh as she saw her mother's face.

Kuririn looked at #18, and to his amusement - and her chagrin - a faint rosy hue coloured #18's cheeks, spreading across her nose. "Marron!" #18 hissed, but she couldn't muster up a very convincing scolding. She could feel her face getting hot, and the triumphant grin on Kuririn's face was too much. If she didn't love him, she would have smacked him through the wall by now.

Kuririn caught the expression (darn him!), and he had the audacity to put an arm around her waist, drawing close beside her. "So, are you gonna' come? Pleeeaaase?"

#18 flicked her eyes from the identical, pleading expressions on the faces of her husband and daughter, eyes shining, smiling happily. "Fine," she sighed, "I'll come."

"Yay!" Marron clapped her hands.

"You won't regret coming," Kuririn assured her, "It'll be a night to remember."

#18 couldn't resist laughing this time. "You exaggerate a lot, Kuririn," she shook her head at him, though a smile touched her features. "I'll just go upstairs and change."

She disappeared up to the second floor, and once she was gone Marron leaned against her father's side. "I love Mommy," she sighed happily. Kuririn rested a hand on the top of her head.

Kuririn laughed softly in agreement. "So do I, little firefly. -'mon, princess, let's get the car started so Mommy doesn't have to wait."

Marron's small face fell into a pout. "We're not gonna' fly?"

"I don't think Mommy wants to. If she doesn't want to be seen in public, I doubt she'll want to fly over the city in a maternity outfit."

Marron giggled, though she covered her mouth and tried to stop.

Ten minutes later, the family was in their red air car, zipping across the ocean toward Satan City. "I'm hungry," Marron wrinkled her nose in complaint. "Are we there yet?"

"Look out the windshield," #18 told her gently. "Do you see the restaurant?"

"No," Marron sighed gustily and stared moodily out the window for a few minutes, then she brightened. "Mommy, can I feel the baby?"

#18 nodded, and she took Marron's tiny hand and placed it on her stomach. "Feel it?"

Marron shook her head, but halfway through the motion she froze. "I feel it!" she squealed. "The baby kicked! I felt it kick!" she turned to Kuririn excitedly. "It kicked, Daddy!"

Kuririn glanced down at her, and #18 had to smile at the love for their daughter that shone in Kuririn's eyes. "Concentrate on your driving, Kuririn," she scolded.

"Sorry," Kuririn turned his gaze back to the windshield. They were coming to the outskirts of the city now, and Kuririn made sure he focussed on his surroundings. With two passengers and one on the way, he couldn't afford to be distracted.

Out of nowhere, a car came careening around a corner, swerving wildly and driving at top speed. Kuririn swore loudly and jerked the steering wheel, trying to get the vehicle into a position where it was less likely to be hit.

The opposing vehicle hit them broadside, sending Kuririn's car flying. He grappled with the steering, but when he realized there was no way to avoid hitting the building in front of them, Kuririn stopped trying and trusted his instincts. He ripped off his seatbelt and flung himself in front of Marron and #18, erecting a ki shield around all of them.

The car smashed into the wall, but fortunately Kuririn's shield was able to protect most of the vehicle, as well. "ny fires that would have ignited were quickly put out by the exertion of Kuririn's energy, so all that happened was that the occupants of the automobile were jerked about violently.

At last the car stopped rocking, and Kuririn raised his head. Marron looked frightened and #18 appeared shaken, but neither of them were hurt. "What an idiotic driver," #18 growled, fists clenched and teeth grinding together with rage. "If we had been normal humans, we would have been killed!"

Marron was crying, her small body trembling as she sobbed in fright. "That was so scary!" #18 arms were held protectively around her, Marron's head on her stomach.

"It's all right," #18 soothed her, "Daddy is a good driver. You're okay now," halfway through her reassurances, however, #18 let out a cry of pain.

Marron's head snapped up, and she put a hand on her mother's stomach, panic permeating her expression. "Daddy! The baby is kicking really bad! What's happening? Is the baby coming?"

"It can't be!" Kuririn protested, "It's not due for another three months!"

#18's pain-filled yell cut him off. "It's coming!" she cried, voice tight as she tried to control the contractions. "I remember when Marron came. Get me out of here!"

Kuririn blasted open his door and scrambled outside, running around the back of the car, and he pulled the front passenger door right off its hinges. Marron had followed him and was huddled next to him, clinging to his leg. Kuririn reached inside the car and unbuckled #18's seatbelt. Holding her carefully, Kuririn manoeuvered #18 out of the wreckage of their vehicle and continued to cradle her in his arms as Marron held tightly to his neck.

"Put me down, Kuririn," #18 gasped for breath, trying unsuccessfully to glare. "I can fly to the hospital myself."

"#18," Kuririn shook his head as he took off into the air. "Keep in mind that I say this to you with the greatest amount of love possible . . . shut up."

#18 sighed and closed her eyes, her face contorting as she struggled with the turmoil raging inside her body. "Just fly quickly, will you?" she asked, and she reached up and placed her arms around his neck. Giving him one last, plaintive glance, #18's head rolled back on Kuririn's arm.

Marron, riding piggyback, let out a short scream. "Mommy's dead!"

"Mommy isn't dead," Kuririn snapped, worry harshening his tone. "She's just unconscious."

"Is Mommy and the baby gonna' be okay?" Marron whimpered, "I don't want them to die."

"Of course they are," Kuririn hastily shoved any thoughts of death to the far corner of his mind. "They won't die," but his confidence crumbled as he regarded #18's still form, and tears sprang to his eyes. "They can't . . . can't die . . ."

Some time later, Kuririn landed in front of an emergency medical ward, and he burst through the doors and flew down the hallway to the reception desk. "My wife is in labour and she's three months early! Get her a doctor, now!"

"Please," Marron added in a small voice.

Within minutes, a room was set up and #18 lay on a bed with a number of doctors and nurses in the room with her. #18 had woken up, and the pain in her eyes was so great that Kuririn almost cried in sympathy. He sat beside the bed, letting #18 hold his hand, thinking idly that he would need a senzu bean or two to repair his broken fingers.

"I thought ... being absorbed by Cell ... was bad," #18 gritted after an hour. Kuririn might have laughed had #18 not been perfectly serious. "Even Marron was ... easier."

"It's okay," Kuririn patted her hand, not knowing what else to do. "I know it hurts, babe. Just let it all out."

#18 nodded, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Kuririn leaned over and kissed her forehead, resting his cheek on her forehead for a second before straightening back up. "I hope the baby is all right," #18 whispered, her voice growing fainter with each word.

One of the doctors noticed, and he shook his head. "Mrs. #18, you must keep trying. This is a delicate time for you and your child - if you sleep, it is probable we will lose the baby."

#18 nodded tiredly, and Kuririn swallowed hard. He caressed her forehead softly, moving her sweat-soaked hair off her face, trying to find a way to keep #18's mind off the pain. "Hang in there, sweetheart," Kuririn winced as #18's fingers tightened over his, and he knew the hurt was worsening. So, he did the only thing he could think of to do - he bent down and kissed her.

Marron watched as Daddy got off the chair and kissed Mommy, and out of habit Marron waited for Mommy to tell Daddy not to do that in public . . . but she didn't. Instead, Mommy started to cry. Daddy just smiled and told her it was okay to cry, then he sat there and petted her forehead.

Marron felt tears fill her eyes, and she wiped her face with the back of one hand. Mommy had to be hurting real bad if she didn't yell at Daddy for kissing her with other people in the room. The little girl sniffled miserably, and she observed the chaotic scene in front of her with a sort of detached horror, like she was watching a movie on T.V.. If only she could pick up some kind of giant remote and change the channel . . .

Alone and forgotten, Marron curled up in a corner, trying to make herself invisible. Though she knew it was a bad habit, Marron stuck her thumb in her mouth. She wished she hadn't left Mister Piccolo Doll at home . . .

******

"No!" #18's breath was coming in short gasps, and she shrank back from the doctors like they had proposed to kill her. "I'm not letting you near me!"

"Mrs. #18, I'm sorry, but it's the only way to ensure that the baby is born," a doctor said matter-of-factly. "A Caesarian is necessary!"

"No!"

Kuririn looked at her with consternation and not a little panic as he regarded #18's face. Fear was plainly written across her expression, with an intensity that Kuririn had never seen on her before. "#18, what's the matter?"

She met his gaze, and her eyes were pleading desperately. "Kuririn, don't let them touch me, please!"

Kuririn took her hand in his, and her fingers tightened so rapidly that Kuririn couldn't help but let out a gasp of pain. "Why? You have to let them do the surgery if you want to get through this!"

"You don't understand!" #18 lashed out her hand, catching Kuririn by the collar and yanking him down to her level. "It's . . . Dr . . . Dr. Gero!" her breath was short, and for a second Kuririn thought he saw tears glimmering in her eyes. Her face contorted, and it looked as though she was battling with inner demons. "Dr. Gero, he did . . . he did this . . . same thing! He said . . . it would be all right . . . but . . . he . . . cut me . . . his 'surgery' made me into the . . . into the monster I am . . . I can't let them . . . touch me . . . I know they won't . . . hurt me . . . but . . ." her face spasmed, showed shame for a split second. "I'm afraid . . . The memories . . . they won't leave me . . . alone . . ."

"They won't hurt you," Kuririn touched the hand that still held his collar, closing his fingers over hers in reassurance. "I won't let them," he smiled, and he put his other hand to the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb gently. "Do you believe me, hon? No one will hurt you."

#18 scrunched her eyes tightly, then she leaned her cheek against Kuririn's palm. "All right," she drew in her breath in a shuddering gasp. "I trust you . . ."

"Everything will be fine, sweetheart. Nothing will hurt you - or the baby. I give you my word," Kuririn nodded at the doctors, who breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Okay. Do it."

******

Marron sat on the sand in front of her house, building a sand castle just high enough that the waves from the ocean couldn't touch it. Beside her, sitting together on a towel with a beach umbrella over them, were Mama and Papa. Mama let Papa put an arm around her, and they were both smiling and talking. The sky was all red and orange and pink, because the sun was going down.

Marron felt something tug her skirt, and she turned around to see her baby brother crawling up to her. He had black hair like Papa, but blue eyes like Mama. Marron smiled. She loved her little brother.

Just then, the baby started to whimper, a quiet, sick sound, like he wanted to cry but didn't have the energy. Mama began crying, like she was hurting, then she fainted in Papa's lap. Papa looked at the baby, who was lying in the sand, not moving, and he said, "We need to get the child on a respirator, now!" but it wasn't his voice.

Marron frowned. She could hear a lot of people talking and yelling real loud, even though she couldn't see anyone. Aside from that, someone was calling her name. "Marron . . . Marron . . . wake up. Marron!"

******

Well, there's chapter one. Will the baby survive? Stick around, I should update in a day or two.