For one of them, the world had devolved into waves of pain and voices telling her when to push. For the other, it was a chance to keep an eye on the room, because she had a bad feeling something wasn't right. And this time, Evelyn knew, the bad feeling that something would go wrong with this pregnancy was not coming from Eve.
That was a new thing, since Eve had been the one to panic from the start. Evelyn had been terrified of telling their father, sure, but Eve? She'd been absolutely convinced that if they didn't flee - leave behind school, their family, and that goofball she'd let get them knocked up - that they, the baby, and that irritating joker would all end up dead. She hadn't even been able to explain why, just saying she couldn't remember. Which irritated Evelyn because she knew it wasn't a memory she was keeping from Eve, and there were only the two of them in here.
Cleaning out all the savings she had in the bank and running away, age seventeen and pregnant, was a stupid idea. But in the end, Eve's sheer terror had won the argument. After months of cheap motels, ultrasounds at free clinics where workers sighed sadly when she insisted she was keeping the baby, arguments about names, and a little disappointment that they weren't having twins, they were finally at the end of this. Evelyn felt she had some small measure of revenge when she insisted that, since Eve had been the one to get them pregnant, the labor pains were all her problem.
She'd thought, once the baby was born, Eve would calm down and they could go home. But now, listening to the whispers that Eve was in no condition to notice, she was starting to think the other personality in her mind had been right. At least, in regards to something horrible being about to happen.
The whispers about their age weren't a surprise. The ones about the refusal to mention family. Questioning if they were a runaway, if they'd gotten pregnant due to prostitution. Let other people think what they wanted. Eve was the sensitive one, the weak one, not her. She wasn't listening to those idiots. The whispers that worried Evelyn were the ones they clearly thought Eve was too out of it to hear. They were right about that, but so wrong to think she was going to let them get away with what she thought they were planning. She hadn't waddled around like a duck for the last few months to have someone steal and sell their baby girl.
She needed to outsmart them. No, she needed to be ready to fight. She didn't know which would get them out of this. She needed to think, and there wasn't time... She couldn't focus, couldn't decide on a plan. She needed someone to help her. And she heard the baby cry.
And suddenly everything went clear again. Screw thinking, she needed to act!
Look out! They're going to drug us! came a shout in her mind.
We've had enough of that, Evelyn snarled back, glad now for whatever fit of paranoia had made Eve refuse most of the medications earlier. Her hand lashed out to punch the nurse.
That one has Duela!
Evelyn only registered a blur in scrubs heading for the door. She was too busy putting the room into shock. None of them expected a teenage girl who'd just given birth, and technically wasn't done yet, to move any great deal. Much less punch a nurse, and then spring up to grab the woman and a scalpel from a nearby tray, and hold the latter to the throat of the former. "Freeze, or I'll slit this bitch's throat," Evelyn growled. And she knew she would, if it came to that. Unthinkable only minutes ago, natural now.
"Bring her back over here," she heard herself say a second later, but it wasn't Eve. She didn't have time for that, because she saw the nurse shift their hold on the needle they still held. She pressed the scalpel into the woman's neck enough to draw a warning trickle of blood. "Don't" She was about to tell her to drop it, but someone else had another idea.
"Hand that to me very slowly. It's ok, Duela, don't cry. Aunt Evie's got a plan..." Right hand still holding the blade to her hostage's throat, her left took the syringe from them.
Your plan better be good. The best I've got is to kill anyone in our way, and I can't figure out how to do that and carry Duela. Eve?
I'm... it's up to the two of you... I'll do what I can...
I can think our way out of this, if you can fight. Eve's making sure we don't feel anything, and trying to keep us from passing out, but we still have to make this fast... Here's what we need to do.
That was a new thing, since Eve had been the one to panic from the start. Evelyn had been terrified of telling their father, sure, but Eve? She'd been absolutely convinced that if they didn't flee - leave behind school, their family, and that goofball she'd let get them knocked up - that they, the baby, and that irritating joker would all end up dead. She hadn't even been able to explain why, just saying she couldn't remember. Which irritated Evelyn because she knew it wasn't a memory she was keeping from Eve, and there were only the two of them in here.
Cleaning out all the savings she had in the bank and running away, age seventeen and pregnant, was a stupid idea. But in the end, Eve's sheer terror had won the argument. After months of cheap motels, ultrasounds at free clinics where workers sighed sadly when she insisted she was keeping the baby, arguments about names, and a little disappointment that they weren't having twins, they were finally at the end of this. Evelyn felt she had some small measure of revenge when she insisted that, since Eve had been the one to get them pregnant, the labor pains were all her problem.
She'd thought, once the baby was born, Eve would calm down and they could go home. But now, listening to the whispers that Eve was in no condition to notice, she was starting to think the other personality in her mind had been right. At least, in regards to something horrible being about to happen.
The whispers about their age weren't a surprise. The ones about the refusal to mention family. Questioning if they were a runaway, if they'd gotten pregnant due to prostitution. Let other people think what they wanted. Eve was the sensitive one, the weak one, not her. She wasn't listening to those idiots. The whispers that worried Evelyn were the ones they clearly thought Eve was too out of it to hear. They were right about that, but so wrong to think she was going to let them get away with what she thought they were planning. She hadn't waddled around like a duck for the last few months to have someone steal and sell their baby girl.
She needed to outsmart them. No, she needed to be ready to fight. She didn't know which would get them out of this. She needed to think, and there wasn't time... She couldn't focus, couldn't decide on a plan. She needed someone to help her. And she heard the baby cry.
And suddenly everything went clear again. Screw thinking, she needed to act!
Look out! They're going to drug us! came a shout in her mind.
We've had enough of that, Evelyn snarled back, glad now for whatever fit of paranoia had made Eve refuse most of the medications earlier. Her hand lashed out to punch the nurse.
That one has Duela!
Evelyn only registered a blur in scrubs heading for the door. She was too busy putting the room into shock. None of them expected a teenage girl who'd just given birth, and technically wasn't done yet, to move any great deal. Much less punch a nurse, and then spring up to grab the woman and a scalpel from a nearby tray, and hold the latter to the throat of the former. "Freeze, or I'll slit this bitch's throat," Evelyn growled. And she knew she would, if it came to that. Unthinkable only minutes ago, natural now.
"Bring her back over here," she heard herself say a second later, but it wasn't Eve. She didn't have time for that, because she saw the nurse shift their hold on the needle they still held. She pressed the scalpel into the woman's neck enough to draw a warning trickle of blood. "Don't" She was about to tell her to drop it, but someone else had another idea.
"Hand that to me very slowly. It's ok, Duela, don't cry. Aunt Evie's got a plan..." Right hand still holding the blade to her hostage's throat, her left took the syringe from them.
Your plan better be good. The best I've got is to kill anyone in our way, and I can't figure out how to do that and carry Duela. Eve?
I'm... it's up to the two of you... I'll do what I can...
I can think our way out of this, if you can fight. Eve's making sure we don't feel anything, and trying to keep us from passing out, but we still have to make this fast... Here's what we need to do.