Gonna strangle (affectionately) @bruciemilf one day but that's okay
Anyway I'm just knees-deep into this one particular scene and it's her fault. Just set the scene with me, hold my hand–
Martha went into labor for what feels like days ago already. Her screams are rhythmic, booming through the halls of Wayne Manor– why did she insist on a house birth?
Why did he let her?
He's a fool and she always is going to get what she wants from him. Now the air suffocates, heavy with an oppressive tension
Agatha rode off to the sunset with bottle of cognac– Jacob is locked outside with a look that can put a man through concrete
The truth is that Thomas could care less about what is happening in the world
Martha can't breath. What she does is ragged, uneven, fast and can't be called breathing
Thomas listens it, her chest heaving loudly, the begging in russian– for the first time in years, he doesn't know what to do
Pain twists in his throat, growing and throbbing
There's so much blood. Crumpled white sheets unsalvageable with crimson, eyes with dark circles beneath
He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what do to do–
His feet heavy like lead, kneeled by Martha's side and praying like momma taught him to–
Gods. Martha is pale. Squirming. Panting, gasping, crying. Coated in sweat, blood and other much less dignified body fluids
All he can do is let her hold his hand numb, let the ears ring with her screams
Her voice wobbles, weakens, and pleads in russian, please, it hurts. Make it stop. Incessantly, and every time his chest squeezes more, pounding like he will throw up his own heart
"Shh, it's okay, dove," he whispers to her hair, pointedly not looking at the blood. "It's going to be okay."
He's not sure. Because he is a doctor and he knows what this hollow silence from Leslie means–
And, gods, how he can love a thing that is causing so much pain to Martha?
Thomas stammers. Everybody said the love is natural; it comes gradually.
Doctors spend an awful amount of time with death
Not the time to think about that
Only that the annoying voice at the back of his head hammers his forehead with a icepick
How comes his heart bubbles with acid, contracts painfully everytime Martha sobs? How come he can't not resent this baby–?
Until her hands leaves his and Martha moves from pure adrenaline onto sitting in her knees to take matters into her own hands, Thomas hands try to cling to her shoulders or stop her no wait don't that or do something but– Bloody thing and bloody hands and infinite red;
And a second cry tores the world with anger and furious tears.
Thomas Junior is born a healthy 9lbs, a glob of red bare flesh, covered in amniotic fluid, mad at the world for being born
Martha's holds her son with all the care and love in the world, hair plastered on her forehead. Smiles ruefully. "He's perfect."
TJ is born looking like a turnip
And Thomas feels a whole lot of nothing