Ch 30 – First Breath

"Are ya okay?" Jude asked, wrapping her shawl tightly around herself as she came out onto the porch.

Linnea looked down, dangling her feet off the edge of the porch, allowing the chorus of chirping crickets to fill in the silence her voice dare not breech.

"I understand why ya would wanna be alone right now, but I don't appreciate that ya ran off. Yar too young to go off by yarself. Ya had me worried sick."

And run off Linnea had. The little girl ventured into the woods once her mother and Kit left for the hospital, longing to be alone and to find any piece of her father before the day wore out. Linnea used her mother's labor pains as a means to sneak away and hurried off as soon as the car's engine roared, its lights illuminating her path as she made a mad dash into the woods before she was seen.

Linnea ventured on even as the car's lights passed, something deep inside her naturally unshaken by the dark. The little girl, letter in hand, climbed over twigs and logs and brush, finding that the arduous journey became easier as ventured deeper into the brush. Just as the dark became too intense for her to focus, fireflies swarmed, lighting her way, and the clouds pulled back, letting the moon shine nearly bright as day.

Finally, Linnea came to a clearing. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw it: her father's cabin, in mounds of rubble (and for the better part, ash). The little girl titled her head, studying it with a questioning gaze, as though she were utterly disconnected from the scene before her.

'I did that.' A voice reminded, causing Linnea to jump.

She bit her lip. She wanted, in the worst way to talk to him, to apologize. To question. To connect. Just as mommy did when they visited Wendy (whoever that was) … Linnea wanted to leave the little love note from her heart… But she didn't dare move, torn between horror over her actions, and stunning realization that everyone had been right: he was really gone. Linnea gulped, trying to figure out what to say, when suddenly:

"Hey that's mine!" Linnea gasped as a gentle wind picked up, blowing the letter out of her hand.

She tried to grab it, but the wind picked it up a little more, sweeping it off into the distance.

"Daddy I'm sorry." She said sadly, almost whispering. "Whether your bad or not… I'm sorry."

In that moment, a pile of ash (previously untouched), picked up from its resting place and swept across the clearing, like sand blowing into a desert storm: this was Oliver, finally at rest.

…..

Lana breathed hard, staring into the face of her former captor as she gripped the sides of her hospital bed. Oliver watched, amused from his place in the chair at the foot of the bed.

He laughed. "Even in death your still bound and determined to beat me." He teased. Oliver took a cube, met for Lana, of ice out of a cup and put it in his mouth. His being a ghost, it fell straight to the floor and started to melt.

"Looks like you won." He chided. "Well, at least that round."

Lana stared back determined and puffed hard, shaking her head.

'No.' She thought, closing her eyes as she breathed: in-and-out, and in-and-out. 'It CAN'T be him. He's dead! Your seeing things! And … you can't let anyone know that!'

"I'm really here Lana. You're not going to keep me away from the birth of our second child."

Lana stared back in horror, finally beginning to scream when the increasing labor pain, and the mounting terror became too much. "ARRRRRRRRGHHHHHH!"

Kit rushed in from the hall in that moment, grabbing her hand and wrapping his arm around her, helping her through the pain.

"It's okay, it's okay we're gonna get through it, togethah." Kit promised as Lana screamed.

Oliver smiled, mimicking Kit as he came to the foot of the bed. "It's okay." He said, his voice breathy. "We're gonna get through it. Together." Oliver rolled his eyes.

Lana lie back in Kit's arms, still staring up at Oliver and totally unable to breathe when the contraction ended, her eyes as big as saucers.

"It's okay." Kit laughed, not noticing Oliver at all. "I've got you. I've got you."

Lana didn't pay attention, simply staring at Oliver like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes shifted back and forth between the two men.

"He can't see me Lana." Oliver said, watching as Kit dried off Lana's forehead and held her close. "He can't see me. And he can't help you." Oliver promised, Lana's eyes growing wide. "Yap, it's just us. Just the two of us this time." Oliver laughed, now eyeing Lana's medical chart.

"I'm sorry ya didn't have anybody."

"What?" Lana asked suddenly, turning to Kit, her voice sounding like she'd just come through a coughing fit.

"Ya didn't have anybody when ya had Linnea."

"No…"

"You could've had me." Oliver whispered, turning angry within seconds. "But you kept that from me!" He hit the bar on the side of her bed hard, she closed her eyes in an attempt to keep from flinching.

'You're hallucinating.' Lana thought. 'Or it's his attempt to get you put back in Briarcliff."

Lana swallowed hard, desparately trying to concentrate on Kit. "No." She said. "I uh didn't have anybody."

"Ya did a brave thing."

"Hmm?"

"Keepin her… Keepin both of them."

"It was the right thing." Lana looked passed Kit, but he didn't notice, and simply glared at Mr. Thredson. "They're my girls, not his."

…

Not much more time had passed before the baby was almost ready to be born, and the doctor had urged Kit to leave… for the time being.

"Well, well. Just us alone now." Oliver teased.

The ghost hadn't left Lana alone since the start of her labor and she was beginning to wonder if she'd snapped. Dead men didn't talk… did they? The fierce reporter knew a thing or two about psychology herself and was convinced dead men didn't speak.

'It's just you.' She told herself repeatedly. 'And your fear of having his son. Of seeing his face. As soon as you see baby girl, this is allll gonna go away.'

"Kit." Lana said, out of breath. "I really want you to stay, but you don't have to if you don't want: the rest of this is going to be pretty ugly. Ahhhh…" She cringed, squeezing his arm.

"Yes." Oliver observed coldly. "A child being torn from a mother's womb is a violent, but beautiful act. And I've always wanted to see it… At least from this angle."

Lana stared him down, wanting to ask what he'd met by 'from this angle.'

"Sure, I'm gonna stay. I promise I'll be here the whole time. That's the deal I had with you."

Lana laughed, smiling as Kit kissed her on the forehead. Lana closed her eyes as Kit brushed her hair, hearing Oliver huff.

"My promise ta you and the baby." Kit smiled.

"Now get this straight, that's my baby, my son!" Oliver cried.

"Cause I love ya Lana. And it doesn't matter to me, who this baby is, or who his fathah is… I'm gonna be the best fathah to him I can."

"I love you too, Kit." Lana smiled, squeezing his hand as she took it in her own.

…

Crickets chirped incessantly as Linnea sat on the porch, her feet dangling off the edge. She'd said absolutely nothing during her exchange with Jude, and the former nun had left her outside to think. Linnea stared down at the pile of dirt and ash cupped into her tiny hands, shifting it back and forth from one hand to the other, weighing it as if to decipher what it'd once been. She sniffled, her tears soaking the pile in hand, turning into a soppy wet mess that flowed out of her little hands like a bleeding heart that'd endured too much.

"Hello." Came a kind voice that caused Linnea to jump into mid-air.

Linnea gasped, looking up, hope in her heart the word 'daddy' on the tip of her lips. She narrowed her eyes in great confusion when her gaze met that of a handsome stranger, wearing all black.

"Halloween's in four months, come back then."

The man chuckled kindly, bending down to talk to her. "Well who might you be? Are you one of Mr. Walker's –"

"Winters." She said quickly, forcing herself to not say Thredson. She'd be anyone as long as she wasn't a Walker.

"Ah. I see. Is your Auntie Jude home?" He asked kindly.

Linnea got to her feet, giving the man an annoyed glare and went to the door. "Jude!" She called. "There's a man here! Who are you again?" Linnea asked, letting the screen door shut and retreating to her place at the edge of the porch.

"What in all of heaven's name is…" Jude griped in the distance.

Linnea noticed the man smile reflectively as Jude's voice grew louder. The little girl noticing that she seemed to make him happy, even when she was most annoyed.

"Who all could be here in the middle of the …" Jude stopped cold, finally looking up from the dishtowel she held when she reached the screen door, her eyes widening in shock.

"Hello Jude." He said simply, his tone less confident now.

"Timothy…"

…..

"You love him?! You love him?!" Oliver screamed, still tirading despite the fact that the baby was being born.

"Very good Lana push, push into the pain." The doctor instructed.

The reporter screamed, Kit at her side, urging her on, Oliver at the end of the bed, losing his mind … and still unseen by anyone but her. Everything about this child's birth was fundamentally different than Linnea's. This time she found herself under the care of a doctor she liked, and in the company of a friend she loved. Oliver's presence was less of a mysterious threat…And more of an annoyance that made her question her sanity. She wanted to scream at him as she pushed, to call him out for the pain, to tell him to piss off… But thought it best to give the whole thing as little acknowledgement as possible… Even in her head.

'It's you, it's just in your mind and as soon as the baby is…'

"Ignoring me, Lana?" Oliver questioned quietly, getting in her ear, opposite to where Kit sat. The ghost waited a beat, letting Lana calm before screaming. "ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!"

Lana screamed, leaping in fear, not from the pain but from how utterly real his voice seemed in that moment. It sent a chill through her very core, as if proving to her that he was really at her side.

"You WILL NOT IGNORE ME WHILE YOU HAVE MY SON!"

"No, I'm not having your son." She muttered.

"Huh?" Kit asked.

Lana bit her lip and let out another scream in an attempt to mumble what she'd said, feeling blessed that only Kit had heard her.

"Alright Lana, little rest, and a couple of more big pushes. And then we're done." The doctor soothed.

"Come on Johnny," Oliver stood behind the doctor now, waiting for the baby's birth. Lana couldn't see, but the baby's head was mostly out. "Welcome to the world, son. Your mother won't love you just because your mine… But you can always make your father proud."

Lana breathed hard, steadying herself against her legs, as she leaned forward. She was exhausted, almost huffing and puffing as she stared Oliver down, determined, even now, not to have his son.

'I'll never give you a son, you asshole.' Lana thought, looking up directly at him. Oliver's eyes widened, and Lana was terrified to see he'd her thoughts.

"Ready Lana?" The doctor asked.

She nodded, wincing and started to push with a loud scream. "Arrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhh!"

Within seconds it was done. The baby's screams joined its mother's, and baby Winters took her first breath.