Chapter 123 The Threshold of Consciousness

Chapter 123 The Threshold of Consciousness

​The heart monitor’s shrill, endless flatline suddenly fractured. A rhythmic, steady pulsing took its place. The emerald line, once a static horizon, began to surge with jagged, irregular peaks. Pierre withdrew his hands from Agatha’s sternum. He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat that was stinging his eyes.
​"Her pulse is back! She is back!" a nurse shouted.
​Xavier, who had been collapsed on the floor, stood up with trembling legs. He leaped to the side of the bed. His cold hand searched for Agatha’s wrist. He felt a faint, delicate thrum there. It was incredibly weak, but it was there.
​"Agatha? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?" Xavier called out, his voice cracking.
​Agatha did not respond. Her eyes remained closed. Her blue lips began to reclaim a hint of color, though they were still deathly pale. Pierre did not allow Xavier to linger on the relief. He gripped Xavier’s shoulder and shoved him aside.
​"Do not celebrate yet, Sir. The hemorrhaging has not stopped completely. The third baby must come out right now." Pierre barked.
​Pierre reached into Agatha’s birth canal, searching for the final infant. His face hardened as he felt the position.
​"The baby is breech. I have to turn it manually." Pierre announced.
​"Do whatever you have to do, Pierre! Save them both!" Xavier yelled.
​Pierre pressed down on Agatha’s abdomen from the outside while his other hand worked within. Agatha let out a low, guttural groan without opening her eyes. The sound was a ghost of a whisper, thick with agony.
​"Ugh. Akh."
​"Ma'am, you have to wake up. Help me. One more push." Pierre shouted directly into Agatha’s face.
​Agatha’s eyes flickered open. she looked disoriented and utterly drained. She saw Xavier, his face streaked with tears, hovering beside her.
​"Xavier?"
​"I am right here, Agatha. Push one more time. Our last baby has to come out." Xavier gripped her hand as if trying to pour his own life force into her.
​"It hurts. I am so tired." Agatha murmured.
​"I know you are tired. But your child will die inside you if you stop now. Push." Pierre commanded in a thunderous voice.
​Agatha gathered the fragments of her newly returned life. She took a short, labored breath. She bore down with every ounce of strength left in her body.
​"Nngghhh! Akhhh!"
​Pierre slowly pulled the baby’s legs. He moved with clinical precision to avoid injuring the infant or the mother. A moment later, the small body slid free. The room erupted once more with the shrill, healthy cries of a newborn.
​"Waaa! Waaa!"
​"A boy! The third baby is a boy!" the nurse exclaimed.
​The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The nurses moved with practiced speed to clean the third baby, who appeared remarkably healthy despite the trauma. Xavier sank into the chair beside the bed. He buried his face in his hands and wept silently. His shoulders shook with the force of his release.
​"Everything is out, Sir. Three babies. Two boys and one girl." Pierre said.
​Pierre began the work of suturing the tears and stemming the remaining flow of blood. He hung several more IV bags, the fluids blooming into Agatha’s veins. Agatha lay limp. The agonizing pain that had defined the last few hours suddenly evaporated. She felt weightless, as if she were drifting on a calm sea.
​"Xavier." Agatha called out, her voice a mere thread of sound.
​Xavier immediately scrubbed the tears from his face. He leaned his ear toward her lips. "Yes, sweetheart? I am here."
​"I am so sleepy. Can I just sleep for a little while? It is all over, isn't it?" Agatha asked.
​Her eyelids began to droop. The world was becoming wonderfully quiet. The monitor’s beep was a distant lullaby. The scent of antiseptic no longer bit at her nose.
​"Of course, you can."
​"No!" Pierre’s shout cut through the room like a gunshot.
​Xavier flinched. He looked at Pierre, who had just finished organizing the bloodied instruments.
​"What is it, Pierre? She is exhausted. She just needs rest." Xavier snapped.
​Pierre lunged toward the head of the bed. He peeled back Agatha’s eyelid and flashed a light into her pupil. "She cannot sleep, Xavier. Her blood pressure is still critical. Her heart just started beating again."
​"What does that have to do with sleeping?" Xavier asked, his confusion turning back into fear.
​"If she falls asleep now, her brain will shut down her bodily functions to the absolute minimum. In her state, she will never wake up. Her heart will stop the second she loses consciousness." Pierre explained, his face grim.
​Xavier’s eyes went wide. He looked at Agatha, whose eyes were already shut tight. "Agatha! Wake up! Do not sleep!"
​"Agatha, open your eyes!" Xavier shook her shoulder.
​Agatha only let out a small moan. "Let me sleep, Xavier. Just five minutes."
​"No. Those five minutes will be eternity. Xavier, do something to keep her alert. Talk to her. Do not let her go quiet." Pierre ordered.
​Xavier tried to speak of their children, describing the tiny lives they had just created. But Agatha’s head kept lolling to the side. Her breathing slowed to a rhythmic, dangerous crawl.
​"She is not responding, Pierre. Her eyes are staying closed." Xavier’s voice rose in panic.
​Pierre stepped close to Xavier. He stared at the younger man with absolute gravity. "Slap her cheeks, Sir. Hit her."
​Xavier froze. "What? I cannot hit her."
​"Hit her. Now. You need to shock her nervous system to keep her brain firing. If you love her, do not let her be comfortable." Pierre barked.
​Xavier stared at Agatha’s beautiful, porcelain face. His hands shook. He had never once laid a rough hand on her.
​"Do it, Sir. Now, or you will lose her forever." Pierre shoved Xavier’s back.
​Xavier raised his hand. He patted Agatha’s cheek softly. "Agatha, wake up."
​"Harder! That is a caress, not a wake-up call!" Pierre yelled.
​Xavier gritted his teeth. He swung his hand and landed a sharp slap on Agatha’s right cheek.
​"Plak!"
​The sound was jarring in the quiet room. Agatha flinched, but her eyes only drifted halfway open before the darkness pulled at them again.
​"Not enough. She needs to feel the sting. Again." Pierre commanded.
​"Forgive me, Agatha. Forgive me." Xavier whispered.
​Xavier closed his eyes for a split second, channeling his terror into his arm. He swung his palm with full force against her cheek.
​"Brak!"
​Xavier’s movement was so violent he knocked over a tray of medical tools, sending them clattering to the floor. He did not stop. He began to slap her cheeks back and forth.
​"Plak! Plak!"
​"Agatha, wake up! Dammit, do not leave me like this! Open your eyes right now!" Xavier roared.
​The pale skin of Agatha’s face began to bloom into a fierce, bruised red. Xavier’s tears splashed onto her cheeks. He felt like a monster.
​"Enough. Look at her." Pierre said.
​Agatha’s eyes snapped wide. She stared at Xavier with a mixture of raw fury and utter confusion. Tears leaked from her bloodshot eyes.
​"Xavier. What are you doing? It hurts." Agatha whimpered.
​"Keep feeling it, Agatha. Stay angry at me. Do not you dare close your eyes." Xavier raised his hand high again.
​"Xavier, stop."
​"I will not stop until you are fully here. Do you understand?" Xavier prepared to strike again.
​"Plak!"
​"Xavier, you are hurting me!" Agatha screamed, her voice gaining a strength it hadn't had in hours.
​"Good. Keep screaming. Tell me how much you hate me. Just do not sleep." Xavier looked at her with bloodshot eyes.
​Pierre caught Xavier’s wrist as he moved to strike again. "Wait. Let her speak."
​Agatha panted, the adrenaline from the pain forcing her heart to labor harder. She looked at her husband with an expression he couldn't name.
​"Why are you being so cruel to me?" Agatha asked, her voice trembling.
​Xavier did not offer comfort. He leaned in until their foreheads touched, his breath hot against her skin.
​"Because I would rather have you hate me for a lifetime than live a single day without you. Do you hear me? Are you still trying to sleep?" Xavier asked, his tone a low threat.
​Agatha looked into his eyes. She saw the sheer, unadulterated terror masking his features. She fought the heaviness in her limbs.
​"I hate you, Xavier." Agatha whispered.
​"Good. Use that hate to stay alive."
​Xavier raised his hand again. He looked at her swollen, crimson cheeks.
​"Are you still sleepy?" Xavier asked.
​Agatha did not answer.