Sweet slumber of no dreams… Alan had slept heavily the whole night through, not disturbed by his ringing cell phone. He awoke as he recognized the sound of knocking on his door, and he shot out of the sofa as he realized that he might have overslept to the psychiatric evaluation he was scheduled for this morning.

"Alan, are you in there?" a familiar voice yelled. Alan rushed to the door and opened it, still with confusion plastered to his drowsy face.

"Jeffrey???" He stared dumbly on the man standing outside in the hallway with a smile on his face.

"Alan, you look like crap!" he stated as he walked into the apartment and let Alan lock the door after him. Alan stared at him as if he didn't believe his own eyes.

"What are you *doing* here?" he asked with his forehead in a frown. Then his features turned into panic.

"What time is it???!" he squealed and rushed towards the bathroom.

"Don't worry, you have two hours till your little appointment!" Jeffrey assured from the living room: "And I'm here to make sure you make that appointment. I would advise you to change clothes, that suit you're wearing looks like you've slept in it!"

"That's because I *have*!" Alan yelled back as he squirted cold water into his face. Jeffrey was right, he looked like crap… The print of one of the sofa cushions was etched into his left cheek and his eyes were red and sore. Alan reckoned he needed a miracle to convince a psychiatric board of his sanity in this state.. And as if that wasn't enough he would be nauseous and moody due to the hormone shot he just took.

As Alan hurried over to the bedroom where he kept his clothes he couldn't help but wonder *why* Jeffrey was standing in his living room right now, glaring at one of Alan's paintings hanging on the wall. What was his interest in all of this? Why would he care about Alan making his appointment with a bunch of shrinks or not? As he dressed a sudden sting to his abdomen ordered him to calm down.

"Don't you starting acting up on me as well!" Alan muttered towards his belly as he buttoned his shirt.

"Are you talking to your tummy, Alan?" Jeffrey asked from the living room. Dammit that man had the hearing of a hare!

"I was talking to myself!" Alan said as he stepped into the living room, struggling with the knot of his tie.

"Sure, if you say so." Jeffrey raised his shoulders: "Are you ready?"

"Yes… I think so…" Alan said as he picked up his briefcase and the cell phone he found under an armchair. He had a nagging feeling that he'd forgotten something, but what…

"Wait!" he yelled as he realised what he'd forgotten. Jeffrey took his hand of the doorknob.

"What?!" Alan dropped his briefcase and hurried back to the bedroom.

"I forgot to put on the corset!" Jeffrey walked after him and yanked him away from the closet before Alan had the chance to open it.

"You don't need it any more, Alan. Everybody knows, remember?" he said and patted his shoulder. Jeffrey looked down on the visible bulk hiding behind the lawyer's jacket.

"It's time you let Junior roam free," he added with a crocked smile. Alan drew a deep breath and braced himself.

"Well, I guess it's time to meet the world, then.." he mumbled and walked outside the door with his back not as straight as usual.

*-*

"What the hell are you doing, supporting Alan like this!!!" Philip Watters' fury had no end these days, and now it was Jeffrey's turn to taste the heat.

"He's one man against the world, he's scared. He has no family, and he needs someone to back him up, "Jeffrey simply answered, not intimidated by the hissing Puerto Rican sitting in front of him.

"You're encouraging him to continue this lunacy!" Philip barked and slammed a fist to his desk. Jeffrey raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not encouraging anything! Alan is only a man, he needs some backup. Under this kind of pressure anyone might buckle."

"If you'd stayed out of this Alan would have agreed to go along with the abortion by now!" Philip wouldn't budge. He hadn't spoken a word to Alan since yesterday and wasn't going to either. Not until Alan had come to his senses. That Jeffrey had interfered and showed Alan some support drove Philip's plan to the ground. As long as no one had stepped forward and showed Alan some kindness he would have realized his error and gone along with the abortion. Cruel but effective. But of course the great Jeffrey Geiger finally decided to show some decency for a change and that when it was his cruelty Philip had hoped for.

"Why are you getting so upset by this, Philip? It's not like Alan's murdered someone or anything!" Jeffrey said with his arms across his chest. Philip glared at him.

"Alan's a man. Men don't give birth to children!"

"So it's a biblical thing?" Jeffrey asked and tilted his head. Philip's cheeks went red with fury in an instant.

"Of course it's a biblical thing!" he yelled: "And it's unnatural and it's not allowed!!! Alan deliberately went behind my back, Jeffrey! I'm not going to forget that! I trusted that man, he was like a son to me!"

"I had a son once. He died two years old, but he still did the wrong things sometimes, even when he knew daddy wouldn't approve," Jeffrey said with raised shoulders: "Children makes the wrong choices sometimes, and it's the parents' job to support them no matter what." Philip's eyes became narrowed little slits.

"Don't patronize me, Jeffrey!" he snarled through gritted teeth: "I will never approve of what Alan has done, never!"

*-*

Alan's day went by in a haze. To his great shock a stranger was seated by the desk when he entered his own office. Apparently Philip had decided it was time Alan went on maternity leave…

"You must be the expectant mum!" the tall man with an abundance of gold rings on his fingers announced as Alan took one hesitant step into what once had been his office.

"I'm Gregory Deck, I'm here to substitute for you while you are given a indefinite leave of absence. I tried to call you last night but you never answered the phone…" He held out his hand towards Alan.

"Oh." Alan wished he could vanish into thin air: "I guess I'll be on my way then."

"Alright, see you in court!" Mr. Deck said and dived back down into a considerable large sized pile of papers.

"Excuse me… what?" Alan turned in confusion. The bald-headed man lifted his gaze lazily.

"I will also be leading the case against you. Philip told me you would represent yourself, admirable!" he said in the kind of stuck up friendly tone that only a million dollar lawyer would use. Alan crept out of his office with his tail between his legs. How much humiliation could he take? And how much money was Philip spending on breaking Alan's spirit??

Jeffrey bumped into him down the hall, and Alan jerked away as if he'd been burned. He was afraid of being snapped at again.

"Hey, relax Alan! I'm not gonna bite you!" Jeffrey assured and patted Alan's shoulder.

"I'm.. I'm sorry!" Alan excused: "I think I'm a little off today.." He rubbed his neck and gazed into thin air as he often did when he was trying to think.

"Just remember to breathe and you'll be alright!"

"It's easy for you to say, you haven't had your brain evaluated by three scowling psychiatrists!" Alan moaned, and remembered his meeting earlier that morning. An eyebrow rose to the air as Jeffrey looked down at him.

"Insane elevator man, remember?" he said with poorly hidden sarcasm. Alan's cheeks went red.

"Oh, you're right!" he squealed: "How could I forget that!?" Jeffrey chuckled.

"Don't you just hate it when they use the word *describe* when they want you to spill your guts?!" he added and shook his head. Alan's eyes went vivid:

"I can't stand that!!" Alan agreed, gesturing both hands to his head: "And I *hate* the superior tone they always use, as if they know everything that goes on inside your brain!"

"Exactly!" Jeffrey nodded: "They make you feel like a tick!" They both chuckled to this, and then the awkward silence that always appeared when they ran out of things to say came. Alan stood frozen for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.

"I'll better get on my way… I have a doctor's appointment in five minutes.." he mumbled shyly.

"Yeah, better get on my way my self.. busy schedule!" Jeffrey said and gave Alan a nod.

"There's just one more thing…" he added, making Alan stop.

"I would consider buying some new clothes if I were you. The ones you have seem to be getting a little too tight around the waist.." he said with a smirk before he hurried down the halls again. Alan gaped at him, at first not liking what the heart surgeon was inclining, but then he took a second look, down on his pouting stomach and decided Jeffrey was right. During the period he'd worn the corset Alan's clothes fit easily, but now it was easy to see that Alan was growing too big for his old suits.

*-*

Later that same day Alan learned that lawyer Deck had called for a press conference the following day, without inviting Alan. Just as fine, actually, Alan wasn't ready to confess his pregnancy for the whole world yet. Besides, Philip would probably be there, and Alan wasn't ready to face him either. But the rumours about his pregnancy seemed gullible enough for most reporters as they still were swarming the hospital like rats smelling blood. Alan half expected them to come bursting through the walls when he was at his first appointment with the doctor that would be in charge of his pregnancy for the time being. Melissa Gargoyle was the unpleasant name of an unpleasant woman. She looked like she was handling a disgusting snail during her examination of Alan.

After an hour of pricks, Ultra Sounds, measuring, weighing and other pregnancy related things she declared him healthy as a fish, except from a high blood pressure, and sent him on his way with the following message.

"You're not a woman, Mr. Birch, you're not supposed to be graced with such a condition. There are thousands of women out there I would rather help having a baby than you! You make me sick, the way you alter the rules to your own advantage!"

Alan said nothing in his defence. He was too busy preparing his mind for the coming day. The pressure from the media was already quite high from the tabloids, but Alan could add ten times the pressure by this time tomorrow, when the ones that considered themselves the serious part of media would start the race to have exclusivity to the story about the sad little man who went against nature. He'd already handed over all the papers he'd conveniently removed from Dreyford's office, knowing any refusal to do so would end up in suing and accusing him of stealing hospital property.

It was quite a surprise for Alan to discover that so far Jeffrey Geiger was his only support. Everybody else avoided him like Typhoid. He'd accidentally crossed the path of Aaron Shutt, and he'd pretended he didn't see him at all. Alan soon realized he had nothing to do in Chicago Hope as it were now. His job was taken from him, and the scowls he received by everybody that graced him with a glare as he passed by was enough to scare any man to a life behind bars.

So Alan decided to give everybody the break they seemed to need, and to go to some clothing stores, and have that problem out of the way before the journalists and TV-teams started to follow at his heals. Now, shopping for clothes had never been much fun for Alan, and this day proved no different. A lawyer has to dress respectable, and that means fitting clothes. Everything Alan tried on was either too tight in the waist or had to long arms and legs.

"Don't worry, I'll have that fixed for you by tomorrow if you're in a hurry!" the expiditian slash tailor assured with a winning smile.

"Am I right if I guess that you're a lawyer?" he asked smugly as he started to fold the arms of the jacket Alan was trying on. Alan glared at his own reflection in the mirror. He looked older than his thirtyour years. These last couple of days had left their mark on him. He seemed to have lost the trusty look that always had stood by him no matter how many times he'd been let down. The last drop, he reckoned. Sooner or later he would have to loose his faith to this world.

"I have a big trial coming up next Friday. I need at least seven new suits ready to then and delivered at my apartment. Do you think you can handle that?" Alan didn't even look at the man as he spoke. He was too afraid to discover recent in another human being's eyes.

"Sure can, Mr. Birch! You just show me what suits you want and let me measure you and I'll start working on them right away!" the corpulent man beamed. He looked like he just had won the state fare.

*-*

Alan sat in front of the TV set in the living room of his apartment, hand resting on top of his stomach. The press conference on Chicago Hope started in two minutes, and it seemed like every major TV- channel was airing what was guessed to be a major medical break through.

"I guess you'll be on everybody's lips tonight, sweetie," he addressed his unborn daughter as a certain Gregory Deck appeared on the TV-screen. What was that, a Gucci-suit?! And behind the overpaid lawyer, on his left, Philip was standing, face grey as ashen.

"He looks as terrible as me," Alan mumbled, rubbing his cheek half in surprise. After some seconds of silence, Mr. Deck opened his mouth.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen! I've called for this press conference today to shed light to a rumour that seems to have been circulating both in Chicago Hope and the media the last couple of days. First of all I want to make it perfectly clear that what I'm about to reveal is the solemn act of the late scientist Marion Dreyford, who died tragically in a car accident some months ago. Secondly, and this is important; this woman did not act with Chicago Hope's medical board's permission, this is the act of this woman alone!"

"Cut to the case!" someone down in the audience yelled. A slight blush appeared on the lawyer's cheeks before he continued.

"A couple of days ago Philip Watters, the hospital manager, learned that Ms. Dreyford indeed went through with her plans and started testing out an unauthorised pregnancy on a male subject in the months before she died." A roar of mumbling could be heard and Alan immediately decided not to take a step outside his apartment until the trial had begun.

"This pregnancy was never meant to be, and the hospital board has decided it best to be terminated immediately. Unfortunately the test subject denies to end the pregnancy, and this has forced Watters to go to trial against Chicago Hope's former lawyer, Mr. Alan Birch."

Alan turned off the TV. So Mr. Deck just *had* to mention his full name, didn't he! He would have people running down his apartment in matter of minutes. That sly son of a bitch!

"Well, I'd just as well get started on our defence, don't you think?" he said as he checked one last time that he had locked the entrance door and headed out to his home office.

*-*

The day of the trial finally arrived. Alan had been living in a nightmare of pushy journalists and TV-crews constantly calling him for a statement or an interview. And when they realised he didn't answer his phone they started knocking on his door instead. He received daily hate mail from people who hoped he would burn in hell and so forth for his deadly sin. Alan even had groups of angry women marching outside his window, screaming towards the man who'd dared to steal women's most precious gift. Banners like "God made women for a reason, stop eradicating us!" and "The Devil's seed must die!" was waved towards Alan's window up in the third floor with much excitement and dedication. Little sleep was granted the weary lawyer as he prepared for the trial of his life, and by the arrival of the eight and final day, a little seed of doubt had been planted in his mind.

Maybe Philip had a point. What kind of life could Alan offer his daughter in a world that was already treating her like a freak?

The moment had arrived, for Alan's closing statement. Mr Deck had just finished his, urging the court to look beyond Alan's attempts of giving the foetus he was carrying a face. It was simply an object of an experiment that never should have taken place, and therefore it had to be put down. Alan was shaking all over as he had to listen to this man condemning his daughter.

He entered the floor, pulse racing away in his chest. Alan could feel his daughter's frantic movements as he stopped at the center, knowing this was his last chance to influence the decision that was to be made later this fateful day.

"I am a lonely man," he said, a sad smile underlining his words as his eyes swept across the room.

"My days rush by in a haze, grey, dull, lonely... I try to blend in and to be one of the guys, but still nothing can change the fact that I'm different, I'm not a part of the group. I don't have many friends.. In fact I believe everybody I can call my friends are located in this very courtroom today."

No one dared to meet his gaze as he looked one last time for some comfort. Alan continued to pace as he let the courtroom have a peek at his loneliness:

"I call them my friends, and they even have a pet name for me, The Eel," he said, noting Jeffrey smiling from his seat: "Strangely enough I've grown to like it over the years. They say pet names is a sign of love, and as the Eel, at least I know my life at Chicago Hope is noticed. Sadly my condition may have ended most of the friendships I have, and for that I am truly sorry, for I knew to full extent what the consequences of my actions would be if I went ahead with the pregnancy. Still I went ahead and did the crime, knowing I would loose most of my precious friends in the process." Alan had to take a deep breath before he continued, struggling with the promise of tears if he halted too long.

"I wanted this child. I wanted it so much I decided to carry her forth my self when I got the chance. Not the wisest decision I've made, I'm sure. But I don't regret it for one second! I may have been wrong in my choices, I may have acted upon selfishness and loneliness, but you can't sentence the child I'm carrying to death because of *my* sin! There's a limit for abortions, and this is passed with several weeks, the only way to end the pregnancy now is by murder. If the hospital have grudges against my acting in this case they should punish *me* and not my daughter. At twenty-six weeks an unborn child is fully developed. The last remaining three months she grows and her lungs and heart matures to manage life on the outside. For me, personally, it's terrifying to think that Chicago Hope are willing to kill a child that have nothing what so ever with this to do at all. If she'd been carried forth by a woman she'd been safe from any hospital board in the world, protected even from her mother. My daughter isn't granted this right, why? If you're going punish somebody for this, then punish me! I went into this with open eyes, accepting what Ms. Dreyford was offering me. But don't, I say DON'T kill my baby girl for the mistakes her father is responsible for!"

There, now it was up to the judge, Alan could do no more.

*-*

The recess went by in a fog of mixed emotions. Alan spent most of the time in the men's room, simply sitting inside a locked stall to get some peace. He was so stressed out that his chest was aching, and Alan was worried his blood pressure was rising to new levels. First now he started to consider what would happen to him if he lost the case. If so he would have lost everything, both his life at Chicago Hope and his daughter. There would be nothing left to live for…

He had no idea of how long he'd been sitting there when Jeffrey entered the neighbor stall and announced that the judge was on his way back in.

Alan thought and rose on shaky legs. He patted his stomach for luck, and went outside, not knowing what would meet him as he entered the courtroom. Thankfully he wasn't the last one to enter the room, the judge was still missing… Alan sat down, trembling all over in nervousity. The courtroom was boiling with tension that silenced as soon as the wrinkled face of judge Aldrich appeared from a sidedoor back in the room. He dragged himself to his chair with a smirk on his face. Alan shuddered. Was that a good or a bad sign??

Finally the judge sat down, and after an elaborate pause he finally opened his mouth.

"In my days as a judge I've never come across a case as ludicrous as this!" he started, bending over his desk to look down on his audience.

"When men starts to give birth to children I seriously consider withdrawing from office! What kind of hospital are you running, Mr. Watters who don't notice a pregnant *man* walking around your halls?! Look at the little toad, it's plainly obvious something's going on; he looks like he's swallowed a beach ball for crying out loud! And you, Mr. Birch- as a lawyer I shouldn't expect much more. So you're lonely, boohoo, so you want to become father… Have you ever heard of the term *dating*??! But noo.. the smug lawyer knows his way around the law, the smug little toad decides to do it himself! The martyr of all men who wants to become a single parent! Why in God's name would you run the risk of suffering from all these awful medical conditions these doctors have been referring to all day? The experts can say what they will, but for a man to even consider the hardships of carrying a baby to term he has to be utterly mad!!"

Alan felt his stomach sink down to his heals. He was loosing! He couldn't believe it, he was loosing! He stared at the old man who stared back at him as he continued his speech without flinching.

"Yes, Mr. Birch- I consider you mad!!!! You're equally mad with all the women around this country bringing children to this world where the dogs eat the dogs! But no matter how much it repulses me that you've actually managed to knock your self up I can't find one smidge of reason as to condemn the unlucky child you're carrying to death. Maybe it is too bad for the baby.. but I can't sentence a child to death because her parent isn't of the right gender. Therefore I have no choice but to judge in favor of the defendant! I hope your ankles get so swollen you can't walk, you weird little toad! And keep out of my courtroom while you're breastfeeding!" And with that closure to his closing statement, old judge Aldrich left the courtroom that erupted into a chaos beyond anyone's imagination.

Alan sat like frozen for five minutes, so moved he'd forgotten how to use his legs. His daughter had been saved after all! From now on all of Alan's life would circle around his daughter, making sure she would get the best life possible. If that ruled him out of the picture he was willing to accept it, but he still had hope he would spend the future together with her.

Finally he got to his feet, closing his briefcase with shivering hands as the courtroom emptied behind his back. A horde of media people would attack him the second he left this room, but Alan didn't care. His daughter was safe, that was all that mattered! So filled with emotions, Alan didn't notice the man approaching him before he started talking.

"Alan.." Alan turned in surprise, a confused smile forming on his face as he recognized the man standing opposite him.

"I didn't believe you would ever talk to me again, Philip?" he asked. There was no hostility or bitterness in his voice, just surprised happiness. But no redemption floated to the surface in Philip Watters' dark eyes.

"I still intend to speak to you as little as possible Alan. But I'm not going to stand on the sideline and let you kill yourself with your stupidity! You're admitting yourself to the hospital at once; you're staying off your feet as much as possible the next months. When the child is born you can leave and never set foot in Chicago Hope again." With these words Philip turned and left, stubborn bitterness rushing his footsteps.

The smile had vanished from Alan's face.

*-*

"Here's your room Mr. Birch!" The nurse was stern looking and brief. Alan felt like he had joined some crazy hospital marathon, running around in the corridor trying to keep in touch with the speeding nurse.

"Wow!" he gaped as he entered the room and realized he had been granted a single room, something very rare on the maternity ward.

"Are you sure there hasn't been a mistake in the system somewhere?" he said as he looked around; bright blue eyes taking in the luxury: "I mean, I'm only twenty-six weeks along I wouldn't be the one taking this room from someone who's in more need of privacy, I wouldn't mind sharing." But his bright smile soon dampened when he met the sour glare from the fern nurse.

"Mr. Watters decided you would stay in a single room. It would be upsetting for the expecting mothers to share a room with you. You'll find your hospital coat on the bed there. Meals are listed on the sheet of paper stapled to the door. Good day Mr. Birch!"

"Learn when to shut up, Alan!" he mumbled to himself as the door slammed shut. He was occupying women's territory now, as a stranger in a foreign land. With a sigh he had another look on the white- painted room where he would spend the next months and picked up the garment he was going to wear for the next weeks. Pink. Of course he would be given the only *pink* hospital coat Chicago Hope had to offer… He wouldn't be much surprised if Jeffrey had ordered it especially for him…

Half an hour later he was tugging said hospital coat with a frown on his forehead. Of course *his* coat was missing some seems, something that caused it to show half his back and most of his ass… Still he hadn't been able to lay down on the bed, though. It felt unnatural for him to lie down in this state. He didn't feel much discomfort, and he was a man used to little or less spare time. What was he going to do for two bloody months?!?!? Gregory Deck stayed on as General Counsellor for the hospital, and according to Philip Alan no longer had a job at Chicago Hope. Alan only hoped Deck was more than a smug grin and expensive habits. He wouldn't stand see Chicago Hope run to the ground by this guy!

As he stood there, on the floor, not really knowing what to do another nurse entered the room. Alan spun around, trying to cover his displayed back with a shameful smile.

"Camille, what a surprise!" he exclaimed.

Aaron Shutt's wife gave him a quick, nervous looking smile as she hurried towards the bed where his charts hang.

"You should be in bed, Alan!" she said as she scurried about, checking the windows, the bathroom, the bed…

"Yes, I know.. but it feels awkward going to bed when I feel just fine." His grin grew as she started fluffing the pillows on the bed. She looked restless, like some deer smelling a hunter.

"Well, you should lay down anyway," she answered quickly, and suddenly Alan understood.

"You don't want to be in this room at all, do you?" he stated as she made sure the sheets on the bed were perfectly folded.

"What do you mean?" she snorted, trying to smile him off: "Why should this make me feel uncomfortable?"

"I don't know, maybe you should tell me," Alan answered. He was fed up with everybody of some influence in his life avoiding him. Now it was time for some answers. Camille sighed, apparently knowing her cover was blown.

"I simply can't get used to the thought that you are… that you're…"

"pregnant," Alan gently finished for her. She drew a deep breath.

"Yes," it came heavily: "I seem to have some problems with accepting that you should be granted the possibility to have a baby when there's so many women out there who'll never have that opportunity."

"Thank you for your honesty, Camille," Alan said and patted her shoulder, before he clumsily crawled into bed.

"I'm sorry Alan, I try to be happy for you, but… I'm just jealous I guess..." A sad smile appeared on Cammile's face as she tucked the lawyer in.

"I wish you all the best, Alan."

*-*

The first night in a hospital bed is always the worst. Alan struggled to catch some sleep, but after spending most of the night in bed already he wasn't the least drowsy. He ended up watching TV, and was repeatedly shown reports from the trial earlier that day. Was it really just some hours since he'd walked out of the courtroom? It felt like ages ago.. Now Alan was being imprisoned in the hospital for his own good, bored out of his wits already. At least Camille would bring him some crossword puzzles tomorrow to keep him occupied, and he was scheduled for several tests.

"But I have *you* to keep me company, haven't I?" he murmured towards the bulk beneath the blanket. His daughter was stirring and acting restless tonight, probably reacting to all the adrenalin that had been floating around in Alan's system most of the day.

Four different newspapers had offered him enormous sums of money for the exclusivity of his story. Three TV-stations wished to make a Documentary on him. Alan had turned them all down, even with an uncertain future, when money's concerned, ahead of him. He'd put away a nice little sum during the years and reckoned he had enough saved to go two years without working if he had to. There was no way he was going to sell his little girl to benefit on it financially!

"Just the two of us," he whispered softly and brushed the top of his belly, humming an old nursery rhyme. He'd won the battle, now all he had to do was endure the following weeks. It would be the easiest task of his life!

*_*

He was wrong. He'd never been more mistaken in his entire life! Alan hated lying immobile in a hospital bed like some invalid Vietnam Veteran. After three and a half weeks he was ready to climb the walls! He'd grown considerably around the waist on those short weeks, and that only made him more desperate to get out of bed and get some exercise. It couldn't do his blood pressure or the baby any good to lay cooped up like this. Day in and day out he spent glaring on white hospital walls, hoping for visitors that never came. Camille showed up on a regular basis, though, as a nurse. Jeffrey was nowhere to be seen, neither was Philip, and Alan wasn't really surprised. He was some dirty little secret tucked away in a room, and it seemed like the surroundings tried to forget about his presence. And as his discomfort in feeling useless and forgotten rose, his blood pressure rose with him. This only added more to the load, and Alan was worried sick about how Deck was running the hospital in his absence.

Finally he couldn't stand the uncertainty any more and called Deck with his hospital phone by the bed.

"You've come to Mr. Deck's office, what can I help you with?" a woman's voice answered.

"This is Alan Birch, I wish to speak with Mr. Deck, please."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Birch, but Mr. Deck is in a meeting right now. Can I take a message?"

"Yes, would you please notify him that I would like a meeting with him? He knows where to find me," Alan answered and hang up, still feeling restless.

"I sure wish I could stay up more, pumpkin," he said as his daughter turned inside him: "It's not much exercise going to the toilet and back, and I have to ask permission every time I'm having a shower. No respect!"

*-*

Alan was about to drift into a nap, the only enjoyable thing to do in his boredom. Laying on his back, his hospital coated belly exposed, he felt relaxed and even contempt. He had one of his better days for a change, and the discomfort brought along with a distended gut didn't bug him at all. In his state of half sleep his subconscious mind was stirred as the door to his room was silently opened and closed.

"Camille?" he mumbled as he turned his head lazily towards the direction of the sound. A tired smile broke on his face as he opened his eyes to welcome whatever nurse who had entered his room. His heart stopped.

"Standing by the door a man Alan never had laid eyes on before glared back at him, with something that couldn't be interpreted as much else than loathing and hate in his eyes. Fear struck Alan as his eyes caught the reflection of something glinting in the stranger's hand.

"Who are you?! What are you doing here?!"

He held a knife. Alan felt panic hit him like a ton of bricks as a horrible smile rose upon the face of the intruder. He reached for his call button but the stranger stopped him with one fierce move with his knife.

"Don't. Move!" he snarled and slowly crept closer. There was no way of escape for Alan. All he could do to move further away from the intruder was to sit up in the bed.

"What do you want?" His voice was barely audible. He'd received some pretty nasty emails lately, and Alan knew there were many people out there not happy for his condition. Black eyes peered at him as the stranger slowly approached him, knife in front of him as a warning.

"Please, take my money.. I keep them in that closet over there… but don't hurt me!" Alan didn't beg for his own life, he prayed for the safety of his daughter.

"I want no money!" the stranger hissed, and Alan forgot how to breathe. He wrapped his hands protectively around his waist knowing he was a sitting duck completely in the mercy of a maniac with a knife..

"You're carrying the spawn of Satan! Doomsday is upon us all!" A hideous scar ran from the left side of the stranger's forehead and down to the right side of his chin.

"Please… don't hurt my daughter!" Alan whispered, still backing towards the grind of the bed in hopeless desperation. Dark eyes laughed at him in superiority as filthy hands grabbed a hold of the fabric of Alan's hospital coat. The cold steel from the blade of the knife could be felt through the fabric before it was ripped apart in one harsh move. Naked skin shone towards the man whose face lit up in a demonic smile.

"Please, Sir I beg you! Don't hurt my.." Alan begun but never finished the sentence as a sharp blow to his jaw shut him up. So this was it then. He was about to be slain in a hospital bed, supposedly the safest place on earth for someone in his condition. Alan's eyes filled with tears as he realised the horrible facts. But still he covered his defenceless stomach the best he could, his arms getting sliced in the process. The colour red towards white bed sheets. And then a burning sensation started to spread from one side of his stomach and over to the next. At least the stranger wasn't jabbing, he was just cutting in the top of Alan's stomach, as if he was engraving something to his skin.

A last, horrible plan formed in Alan's head as the dreadful truth peered inside his brain and showed him the only option. His face contorted in agony as he tried to protect his belly one more time, concentrating on covering the middle where he could feel his daughter's frantic moves.

"HEEEELP!!!" he cried as loud as his pain stung lungs were able to. Once more he received a blow from the stranger's fist as he cursed and snarled.

"HEEEEEELP!!!" he cried again, and the miracle happened. The stranger finally panicked. Alan could hear the knife being tossed across the room where it hit the wall, and the door was ripped open as his attacker escaped. Nurses started shouting. Alan slowly opened his eyes, shaking all over as it all rushed through his mind.

"Oh my god! What's happened to you!?" He heard the voice, but he couldn't see the person saying it although she was no doubt standing right beside him. Everything went black. He couldn't breathe, hands clasping to his chest, moaning, panting, crying.. People rushed to, and Alan still wasn't able to see. He stared blindly out in the room, chest heaving for breath as the panic attack that wrenched his mind, made it impossible to think. But he still was able to feel and to hear. Warm and moist..

"The guy sliced him up pretty good!"

A rattle went through his chest as he gave in to madness and cried, all his misery and grief was pushed up his throat. The stranger had killed his daughter after all..

*-*

Philip Watters kept in his office most of the days he wasn't attending surgery. This whole business with Alan had caught him off guard, and the aging man had crept into his shell and wasn't able to find his way back outside. He had never been fair with Alan. The boy drew himself too hard, still Philip demanded more from him. He kept the hospital floating, he wasn't appreciated for all the hard work he actually did. Shuffling papers and long lunches.. That was what the doctor's of Chicago Hope, and often Philip as well, had believed Alan's work consisted of. It wasn't until he was gone Philip saw the enormous workload the young man carried on his shoulders. Gregory Deck did what he was told, but nothing more. The kindness and silent efficiency that was Alan's trade-mark was replaced with cold ruthlessness and media crawing when Deck joined the ship of Chicago Hope. But Philip wasn't one who admitted mistakes, and no matter how much Alan's skills as a lawyer was missed he still had betrayed Philip.

"Now what!" he hissed when his beeper told him to get to the maternity ward for an emergency. He reckoned Alan was suffering from haemorrhaging and needed emergency surgery, and although there was no way in hell he was going to forgive Alan for his actions, his moral standards as a doctor sent him pacing down the hallways towards the west wing.

"On your way down to Alan?" Aaron Shutt met up with him in the corridors and joined him.

"Yes, any idea of what's going on?" Philip barked.

"Apparently he was attacked by some knife desperado.." Aaron told, in his usual slow manner. Philip stopped.

"WHAT?!?!?" His eyes squinted in disbelief.

"Camille said something about a man calling himself the avenger of God or something. The security guards caught him as he tried to escape a few minutes ago. Hasn't Deck notified you??"

Philip didn't answer. He put his energy in running the last bit of the way.

Alan's room was filled with nurses and doctors, mostly trying to hold the panicked man down. Alan looked terrible, blood poring from open gaps in his arms and his stomach, his face wrenched in horrible grimaces that clearly stated his hysteria.

"What the hell are you doing?" Philip bellowed as he entered the room, clearing a path to the bed with fierce elbows.

"He's hysterical; give him some sedatives for god's sake!" He had to pry Alan's right arm away from the stomach it was protecting, there was no sign of recognition in Alan's face as Philip faced him.



"Alan. Alan! Do you hear me? It's me, Philip!" he said, loud and clearly.

"Try to relax, Alan. You're safe now!" The magic words. Philip could feel the whole posture and tenseness of Alan's body change as the words reached him.

"Safe? Philip?" he croaked, blinking frantically.

"I.. I can't see… I can't see…" Philip leaned closer and started stroking Alan's hair with soft comforting strokes.

"Hush, boy. Just relax, you're safe now. You're safe now!" Slowly the frightened man started breathing easier as the panic slowly let go of his body, but still his left hand was clasped around his stomach.

"The baby.." he whispered after a while: "How is she? Is she all right?" Philip received an affirming nod from one of the obstetricians.

"She's just fine, Alan, just fine," Philip told him and continued to stroke his hair. Alan slowly opened his eyes, and this time recognition dawned in his watery gaze. The corners of his mouth bent downwards and he squinted his eyes once more as relief as much as fear washed over him.

"Thank God!" he whispered, hanging on to Philip like a scared child: "I thought I had lost her, Philip!"

"Don't you worry anymore, Alan. I've given you something to sleep on, and I'll see to that someone patches and cleans you up while you're resting." Philip embraced the shivering young man and could feel old grudges let go and disappear.

"Will.. you stay with me till I sleep?" Alan whimpered: "I'm afraid…"

"Of course I will, Alan. Sleep now," Philip hushed, as his heart started beating again.

*-*

Alan slept for ten solid hours. The stress of the attack had drained him completely, and with the safety of having Philip nearby he found the peace he needed to fall asleep. Philip didn't move from his side the entire time, afraid of Alan waking up if he left him. He realised now what a putsch he'd been. Looking down on the weary face in the hospital bed Philip finally forgave Alan for his betrayal.

Two weeks later Alan's wounds had healed well, and he was still waiting for a visit from his colleagues. Jeffrey had stopped by, Camille still did her duties as a nurse, but apart from that nothing had changed but from one detail. Philip stopped by his room to see how he was doing at least once a day now, and that was more than enough for Alan. He still acted uneasy about the whole pregnancy detail, but Alan easily saw that Philip tried his best to ignore his queasiness for Alan's sake. Alan had to admit he felt saddened by Philip's resentment towards his daughter, but figured that when he first laid eyes on her after she was born the stubborn old goat had to admit he'd been wrong.

She was starting to get cramped up for space now, inside him. Alan's skin had already stretched so much it hurt, but she still had another five weeks to go before she would be satisfied. The obstetrician was worrying about this and feared that Alan's abdomen wasn't big enough to contain a baby for as long as nine months. Therefore he decided they would decide from week to week when it was time for the C- section. The thought of getting it all over with as soon as possible appealed to Alan at first. He'd been locked up here for so long now, and the last couple of weeks even with police guarding his door. But then he started thinking about what would be best for the little one and decided he would give her as many weeks to grow yet as he could sustain. If that would mean withholding some information about tender areas, so be it. Alan could endure a little discomfort due to stretched skin for the sake of his daughter's wellbeing!

Besides, he'd found a way to at least make the nights shorten a little. The police guards only watched his door at day. Obviously they reckoned lunatics only strike in day time or something. That meant no one was watching if anyone came in, or went out in the evenings.. In late hours of the night Alan had started to sneak outside his room, heading further down in the maternity ward where he stopped by the glass with a view into the nursery.

In one of the late hours of night he got out of bed as usual, and snook as gracefully as an almost eight months pregnant man can down the hallways towards the room where his unborn daughter would be kept a few weeks into the future. Graced with a nice blue, dotted hospital coat and an odd walk Alan went the short distance from his room to the nursery. What had started as a hunt for a vending machine ended up in front of a window that displayed what would hopefully be his future. Alan stayed as long as he dared in front of this window every night, his heart melting by the sight of newborn infants squirming sleepily in their cribs. He'd been caught a few times, by busy nurses who'd ushered him most efficiently back to his room, but as long as they didn't tell Philip he would be fine. Alan would continue his nighttime adventures of sneaking out of bed and down the hallway to stand by the window and gaze on the tiny miracles.

He watched in silent awe as a tiny hand stretched towards the sky. So small. So helpless.. A hand brushed the home of his daughter as he fantasised about the first time he would hold her in his arms, take in her scent..

"Alan! What are you doing out here?! You should be in bed!" Alan didn't need to turn or take his gaze away from the nursery to know Philip had found him.

"Relax Philip, I'm fine!" Alan assured, not taking his eyes from the window. He could hear Philip mumble something about stupid brats, but he didn't take it personally.

"Look at them," he told in marvel: "They are so tiny, so defenceless… so completely in our might. How come I've never stopped to wonder what miracle it really is, a life? A few weeks from now I'm going to be a father, Philip." Alan never noticed the look Philip's eyes gained as he spoke. He never noticed the curl on the older man's lips as he took part in Alan's joy for the first time since he'd learned about his pregnancy.

"I bet you'll make one hell of a daddy, Alan. Now get back to your room, nice and slow! I don't want you collapsing in the hallways at night!" Alan obeyed after casting one last longing gaze to the sleeping infants, then he turned and wobbled back to his room with Philip watching his every step.

*-*

"Do you feel any discomfort when I touch you here, Alan?" The obstetrician was poking his sides, and it was to say the least, uncomfortable.

"No, I feel just fine. A little tender, but nothing more," Alan replied, knowing he was stretching the truth a little. These daily checkups made him feel like a human piñata, but he appreciated the fact that his daughter was followed closely from day to day.

"How is she today, Doctor?" he asked as the obstetrician finished up his work and scribbled down some notes on Alan's charts.

"Just peachy! Heart rate and vitals are all good, the only thing she's complaining about is the lack of playground to roam around on," the doctor answered with a roguish smile. Michael Norton was the only obstetrician who didn't treat Alan as if he was infected with leprosy. As a father of five and blessed with looks the likes of George Clooney anyone passing Norton on the street would have guessed him to be a heart surgeon rather than an obstetrician.

"My main question is how *you* are doing, Alan. If you're starting to get too uncomfortable I suggest we schedule a C-section."

"I'm just fine, Doc. She's one feisty little girl and she tends to kick my intestines flat now and then, but it's nothing I can't take," Alan assured him as his rib most conveniently was strafed by a foot.

"Alright, I take your word for it Alan. But you will tell me if you feel it's time, right?" Norton asked as he put Alan's chart back by the end of his bed.

"I promise," Alan nodded with a smile on his face. He went through the same speech every time the Doctor made him a visit. Dr. Norton smiled and told Alan to take care before he headed for the door.

"Doc? Before you leave… There's one thing I was meaning to ask you…" Alan started and rubbed his neck.

"Yes?" The Doctor turned with friendly features.

"I was wondering if I could take a shower… It's been almost three weeks since the last time I had one. Not to complain about the nurses' sponge bathes, they most efficiently clean every corner of me even if I want them to or not… but I feel cleaner after a shower… if you know what I mean..?" Norton scratched his stubby chin for a moment.

"In this state of the pregnancy I would prefer rather if you not, but I won't deny you to take a shower. Just make sure you take it easy, Alan. A fall in the shower in your condition could be fatal for both you and the baby."

"I'll be careful!" Alan promised. All he wanted was to have warm water trickle down his aching back again, and not at least feel like he still was able to clean himself without the aid of a nurse.

*-*

Like warm velvet against aching skin… Alan submerged into the warmth and comfort of a shower in a way he never would've believed was possible. If he'd had the strength he would have stood there for the rest of the day, eyes closed as he embraced his daughter. She seemed to enjoy the shower as well basking lazily towards the sudden warmth to the exterior of her home.

"You like that don't you?" Alan told his belly with a warm smile not affected by the water trickling down his face. He brushed his fingers over a particularly active and painful spot and was rewarded with an eager shove. Communicating with his unborn daughter felt natural for Alan, and he was consumed in his happiness with this blessed moment relived of all stress and worries that he didn't notice the woman watching him in secret from a glitch in the door.

Camille silently took in the sight of Alan's profile towards the see- through glass door of the shower. She watched how his hands tenderly stroke a distended abdomen with such love infested in every brush that she had to catch her breath. She intruded on a very special and tender moment, and she knew it. To see such manifestation of love in this man as she'd over the years had seen as the annoying little lawyer who went around asking questions about the hospital staff made her literary loose her breath. She had once felt life growing inside of her and knew what emotions that got stirred every time the baby moved, she'd experienced the strong bonds a mother and the unborn child develops. But she'd also paid the ultimate prize, she lost her baby.

As a woman she'd felt annoyed and enraged that Alan as a man would intrude in what by women was considered as holy. He'd stolen that very special bond mother and baby forms, for how could a man experience the same as a woman if he got pregnant? As she'd stolen a glance at Alan in the shower she knew he had proven her wrong and that all of her arguments were as poor as Alan had proven Deck's arguments for terminating his pregnancy. She felt like a thief, pawing at him in this moment of intimacy with his unborn daughter, but Camille didn't manage to look the other way. It was too beautiful…

After a few minutes Alan turned off the water and Camille immediately ducked away from the doorway. Cheeks blushing she tiptoed back to the entrance-door, opened it silently and then slammed it so that Alan would hear her "entering" the room.

"Alan? Dr. Norton told me to come and help you dry yourself off after the shower, is it all right?" she asked cautiously as she approached the half closed bathroom door.

"Sure, Camille! Come right in, I've already put on a towel on my… lower regions," Alan responded. Camille couldn't help her smile as she entered the room. Alan was as bashful as a virgin. So far none of the nurses had had easy access to his privates during his daily sponge baths. She stopped dead in the doorway though, once more struck by the magic she'd just witnessed.

"What?" Alan beamed as he made sure the towel wouldn't slide off his hips. And for the first time since she learned about Alan's pregnancy a true and honest smile dawned on the face of Camille Shutt.

"Nothing's wrong, Alan, and that's the weird part of it! You look beautiful!" Alan's eyebrows rose in a mix of confusion and flattery.

"What?" He tilted his head to the side as he didn't believe his own ears. Camille nodded, smile remaining on her face as she repeated herself.

"You look absolutely radiant, Alan. I'd never believe I would think so, but I do."

"Yeah, I'm a real babe magnet, bloated and swollen," Alan laughed with rosy cheeks revealing his uneasiness. He was scared of having a fist launched at his face, he'd received compliments before that had blown up in his face as malicious pranks.

"I mean it, Alan. How odd it may be, you actually suit being pregnant. You have more mother's glow than I've seen on most expectant mothers!" she told him honestly as she grabbed a towel to help him dry off.

"Thank you, Camille; it means a lot to me!"

A few minutes later Alan was tucked back into bed, once more being weighed down by his ever-growing stomach, while Camille fluffed his pillows and worked like a mother hen to make him comfortable. He had been taken aback with this sudden change of appearance by Camille. She'd kept her distance and only visited him as a nurse, now she acted more like a caring friend and in Alan's current emotional state that normally would have been enough to have him bursting into tears. Thankfully he managed to control his urge to cry like a pathetic wreck, and settled with sending her thankful looks.

"So, how are you doing?" she suddenly asked, right out of the blue, as she sat down beside the bed for once without signs of great haste to get going to the next patient.

"I'm fine," Alan answered, lip curling: "I have to accept being treated like a punching bag around the clock, but that isn't more than I'm already used to," he added with a smirk. Camille, failing to read the irony, smiled as Alan's stomach shifted just to prove his point.

"I can see that," she chuckled and instinctively held out her hand towards the spot where Alan's daughter was kicking. But as soon as she realized what she was doing she retrieved her hand like she'd burned herself.

"I'm sorry, it's like a reflex!" she excused and her behaviour turned hasty again.

"It's all right, here," Alan reached out his hand towards hers. She hesitantly let him lead her hand back to his stomach and carefully plant it right above his navel. Camille was immediately rewarded with a forceful kick and she started giggling like a teenage girl.

"Wow, she *is* one hot-tempered little lady!!" she laughed as her palm became the centre of the unborn baby's attention.

"Yeah, you have no respect of your father what so ever, do you sweetie!" Alan murmured, not minding the pain added to his skin and internal organs the least one bit. Camille grinned as Alan's hand helped her to find an even more so active spot.

"She loves the attention, doesn't she?" she asked as her face lit up, noting a persistent shove. Alan nodded sweetly as he rubbed an aching side.

"Yes, I guess I've already spoiled her rotten," he confessed, shameful glee in his boyish face.

"You can't spoil a child on love, Alan," Camille told him sternly, her smile never leaving her eyes as she said it.

She couldn't believe it! Here she sat, squabbling with Alan as if it was the most natural thing in the world! Camille felt the life beneath her palm, and it dawned to her that it actually *felt* natural. No matter Alan's sex, him being pregnant somehow made sense!

*-*

Gregory Deck was a busy man, obviously so busy that he didn't have the time to answer Alan's calls or to call him back. Alan had tried now for several weeks, and had been blown off with everything from business meetings, lunch appointments, and twice; the funeral of his mother. Alan might not be the lawyer of Chicago Hope anymore, but he still lived under the same moral standards as he did during his job. And for Alan it was important that Chicago Hope was under the best possible care also after he'd lost the job as General Counsellor. His bloodpressure that had started to stabilize some days after the attack was once more rising towards the sky, and Doctor Norton had now set the date for the C-section to next week, not willing to risk it any longer. Finally giving up reaching Deck, Alan turned to Philip and asked him for permission to have a look over of Deck's late work as Chicago Hope's lawyer. Philip hesitantly agreed after a consultation with Michael Norton who told him that Alan's blood pressure would continue to rise until he'd made sure Chicago Hope was under the best of care.

It was a fateful Saturday morning Alan was handed the briefcase containing all of Deck's stowed away files that he'd been working on during his stay at Chicago Hope. Alan found his peeking stomach to be one heck of a devise to hold the papers for him, and he started going through the documents as thoroughly as he always did in matter of the hospital. Long hours were spent reading, conferring and comparing, making sure everything added up to the reports; that everything of importance was reported and so forth and so forth. He denied the nagging sensation in his back that wasn't too fond of sitting upright no more with such a heavy load to support. Deck seemed sloppy, but he got away with it, and at the end of the evening Alan hadn't found anything of real importance to point his finger at. That was until he found documents he himself had started, and it involved the follow-up maintenance check-ups he'd ordered on the elevators. Afraid the accident might happen again Alan had ordered check ups every fourteen days, and if there was as much as a tiny deviation in one of the elevators it would be shut down immediately for repairs. One life lost was one too many, and Alan would be damned if there should be more. Deck, seemingly wasn't of the same regard. He'd called off the inspections, due to cut down on hospital costs.

Somewhere inside Alan a spark ignited and he was filled with a fury and an outrage over this man who had decided a few bucks saved a month was more valuable than the possible saviour of human lives. He paid no concern to his bed curfew as he hobbled out of bed, documents stating Deck's crime towards humanity squeezed into his hand as he made sure his hospital coat covered his back and trudged out of the room, eyes burning with anger.

Alan had grown big and uncomfortable over the last months, but he paid no heat to the protests from his body as he stomped down the corridors, heading for Deck's office. Alan's fury was seldom raised, but when something really upset him to the height that he got angry, he could scare off the toughest lawyer with a stern glare. His hand strolled down to his side as he waddled down the hallways, telling nurses to mind their own business as they tried to stop him. Some sort of cramp was telling him to get back to bed, but Alan was in no mood to listen to nor nurses or cramps.

Just as he reached the wing where his old office was located at the very end a sharp pain located in the midst of Alan's abdomen made him stop up in surprise. He staggered on for a few steps, still with his goal in sight as a new bolt of pain made him waver and sent dark sparks of fear into his brain. Not able to stand up right any longer he sank to his knees with a moan, face contorting in agony as the excruciating pain lingered on, making him yelp when his daughter started kicking to state her discomfort. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and Alan had simply ignored it until he was unable to any longer!

*-*

Jeffrey Geiger had had a long and hard day at work. He'd lost one patient on the table and he'd also been through a seven hours heart transplant. All he wanted now was to go home and have some sleep. But first he would enjoy a nice glass of Cognac. But as he was about to put the glass to his lips he heard a weird noise outside his door, as if someone was slowly drifting down the side of it, not able to stand upright.

"Now what?!" he mumbled and set the glass down to go have a look. As he opened the door Jeffrey was met by a crouching figure in a polka dotted hospital coat.

"Alan!" he gasped when he recognised his face. The way Alan was crouching over his distended gut told Jeffrey that he was suffering from immense pain.

"Somebody get a stretcher, NOW!!" Jeffrey bellowed, kneeling down beside the groaning man.

"It hurts, Jeffrey, it hurts so much!" Alan whimpered as Jeffrey eased his hands away from his stomach to have a better look.

"I know, Alan; I know," Jeffery cooed and touched Alan's stomach with careful hands. He was awarded with a croaked cry, and Alan's forehead became wet within the matter of seconds.

"I was feeling just fine in one second, and then…" Alan couldn't suppress the moan grinding its way up his throat. Jeffrey had to bite his tongue knowing only too well what was the matter with the man. All signs indicated that he was suffering from severe haemorrhaging. He could bleed to death in matter of minutes.

"Where's that GOD DAMN stretcher?!" Jeffrey yelled as he tried to make Alan as comfortable as possible. He grabbed the nearest nurse, ordering her to set up for an emergency C-section in OR three.

"Get whoever's on call, and make it quick! We don't have much time!" he added in a lower tone. Jeffrey was afraid to upset Alan even more at this state. The faster his heart was beating, the faster it would pump blood into the cavity of Alan's stomach.

"Am I going to die?" Alan whimpered, staring at Jeffrey with terrified eyes. He was starting having problems with his breathing now. Jeffrey's biggest fear was that his diaphragm might burst due to the pressure, making his lungs collapse in the process.

"Your little baby girl is just in a hurry to get out and see the world! We'll wheel you down to the OR and have you and her fixed up in a jiffy!" Jeffrey promised. Alan closed his eyes and battled tears of anguish, his hands clasping his stomach in desperation.

Finally the stretcher came. It hadn't gone more than fifteen seconds since Jeffrey had found Alan lying on the floor, but that didn't stop him in yelling at the nurse that came running with it. Alan was rushed onto the stretcher on his back and was wheeled down the corridors towards the elevator in a menacing pace. Jeffrey was working on the clock here, and every second was counting. Down in floor five an OR was ready to start working on Alan as soon he was brought in, Dr. Norton would be the one performing the emergency C- section.

"Hang on, Alan; we're almost there!" Jeffrey said as he was wheeled inside the elevator. Alan nodded, looking scared out of his wits, but he kept quiet none the less. But as the doors closed behind them Alan's eyes rolled backwards and his entire body started to shake in violent spasms.

"He's spasming!" Jeffrey screamed: "Hold him down while I administer Diazepam!" Jeffrey screamed to the two nurses who had followed him inside the elevator. Alan had made sure all the elevators were equipped with emergency drugs and surgery kits in cases like this, quite the foreseeing one.. Jeffrey bit the tip of the syringe, and ripped open Alan's hospital coat to find a proper place to set the injection. Just as he was about to set the shot there was a bump, and then the elevator stopped.

"Are we down? Good!" Jeffrey said as he was administering the medicine that would stop Alan's spasms.

"Nurse Wiggum, you make sure there are at least five units of blood available when we get there, Alan's loosing a lot of blood!" He tossed the used syringe away and made ready to wheel Alan to the operation room. Then he discovered the strained look on the nurse closest to the door.

"For God's sake, open it woman! We don't have much time!" he screamed.

"We're trapped between the floors, Doctor," the nurse replied, defeat already building in her face.

"NO! This is NOT happening!" Jeffrey growled as he started hitting the elevator buttons in rare desperation.

"Come on, come on!!! WORK you piece of shit!" Jeffrey bellowed, kicking the steel door in desperate fury. On the stretcher Alan started moaning as he slowly drifted back to consciousness again. No. This wasn't fair! He'd already lost one patient this way, surely there didn't exist some rotten god up there that had the balls to do this against him twice?! Alan was squirming in pain, hand clutched to his chest, the two nurses looked like they were about to faint and Jeffrey was about to loose his mind. Alan was dying and here they were, trapped inside a steel box with no way out… Jeffrey tossed himself towards the elevator doors and started to pry it open. They were trapped between floors three and four, just their luck!

"Nurse Wiggum, run! Get help! We'll have to do the emergency C- section right here! He won't hold on much longer!" The red headed nurse obeyed and climbed down into floor three.

"Nurse Johnson, you'll assist me," Jeffrey said as he pored disinfectant over his hands.

"But shouldn't we wait for the re…." the nurse started.

"If we wait any longer he will DIE, nurse Johnson!" Jeffrey roared, forgetting the fact that Alan was perfectly able to hear him for the moment: "This is my call and my call alone! If you don't care to assist me then get the hell away from my OR! If not you inject the patient with the epidural!" Jeffrey barked. This was utter lunacy and he knew it. Even the cute little emergency pack Alan had put together didn't consist of proper equipment for a c-section. Alan should have been put under a general anaesthesia, but the cramped space of a freight elevator didn't tolerate such luxury as an anaesthesia machine, nor did it have a heart and lung machine or any other crucially important elements for this kind of procedure. Jeffrey knew the risk of Alan bleeding to death was too great if he hesitated any longer. He doubted the kid would even survive to be hauled out of the elevator in this state. The equipment would find its way to the elevator in a matter of minutes; in the meanwhile Jeffrey would have to make sure Alan's heart kept beating.

"We need several units of blood! And I need someone to assist me! I can't do this alone! Get Dr. Austin!!!" Jeffrey howled down the corridor of both floors three and four, now swarming with people.

"Jeffrey?" Alan's voice was tiny and afraid. He was coming back, and due to the lack of a proper anaesthesia machine he would stay conscious until one was wheeled as close to the elevator as possible.

"I can't feel anything… it's difficult to breathe," he whimpered, eyes so filled with fear Jeffrey felt like a butcher ready to chop up a newborn lamb.

"I gave you an epidural buddy, that's why you're not feeling anything, and that's why it feels hard to breathe. Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," Jeffrey assured both Alan and himself. God, what a nightmare! Jeffrey could only start to imagine how Alan was feeling, lying there helpless, bleeding rapidly to death.

"Try to relax; I'll open you up so that we can get starting on that little leakage of yours. Trust me, you're perfectly safe!" Jeffrey even managed to pull of a pretty convincing smile.

Moments later he was ready to make the first incision, being eyed by the remaining nurse, while two new nurses and an anaesthesia nurse climbed inside to assist. One of them carried a device which was used to extract blood from bleeding wounds.

"Just in time, my dear. You stand ready, I expect a lot of blood," Jeffrey said as his scalpel moved across Alan's skin to find the right spot to begin.

"And you," he addressed one of the other nurses: "stand ready with a clamp nine. If we're lucky it's just a ruptured artery!"

"Just?" the nurse garbled as she found her place, and was ready to assist.

"Yes, just! An artery is easily clamped. If the bleeding is caused by blood vessels surrounding the baby we have trouble in sight. I fear the placenta is attached to some of Alan's major organs!" Jeffrey firmly told his flock of nurses while his scalpel sunk down in strained flesh. Jeffrey had to close his eyes for a moment. Blood pored out of the gap he made like a tidal wave. Alan's body already was cramped up for space, and with all this blood pumping down into his abdomen the pain he would have suffered was horrible even to think of.

"Suction!" he ordered: "And you, administer a blood transfusion immediately!!" he snapped to the nurse who was currently unoccupied. Then he turned towards the hallways again.

"I need an assistant doctor NOW! I have a baby girl here who needs some attention!"

"Relax, I'm coming!" an irritable voice called as a head appeared above the Elevator entrance.

"Kate Austin, I'm pleased you found time to join us after all!" Jeffrey barked, already working deep inside Alan to locate the source of his bleeding.

"Don't you worry, Alan, I'll take good care of your little girl!" Kate assured the wide-eyed man, before she turned and screamed for someone to bring along the bloody anaesthesia machine.

"He's bleeding pretty bad, how much has he lost?" she mumbled as she put her head towards Jeffrey, making sure Alan wouldn't hear her.

"Two pints at least, Austin," Jeffrey answered: "Come on, more suction! I can't see a thing!!!"

*-*

Alan was in a world of his own, hearing Jeffrey swear and bark orders in the distance. He couldn't move, he didn't even feel pain any more, and that somehow scared him more than anything. Jeffrey could assure him everything was fine all he wanted, but when a Doctor had to operate in an elevator nothing was fine, and that was final. What biting irony if he, Alan Birch, died here in the same elevator as the patient Jeffrey had lost, after all of Alan's hard work to make sure it would never happen again… It was terrifying not feeling anything, terrifying to know that he was fighting for his life, without any chance to jump off the merry-go-round if he wanted off. His life was in the hands of Geiger, his daughter's life rested solely in the hands of Austin. None of them educated as obstetricians, but as heart surgeons…

"Alan, we're removing the baby now! When she's out I'll start removing the placenta!" he could hear Jeffrey state in a clear and stern voice. Alan tried to answer but garble was the only thing coming out of his mouth. He was starting to feel strangely light- headed, as if a breeze was floating upwards and into his brain.

*-*

His heart rate just dropped!" the anaesthetics nurse reported with alarm in her voice. Jeffrey snarled in response, working even faster. Kate had trouble keeping up with his pace.

"One stumble and it's game over Jeffrey, "she mumbled as the baby's head emerged to the surface, helped by Jeffery's hands.

"Just shut up and keep him open!" Jeffrey mumbled in response. Moments later the baby was fully emerged and handed over to one of the nurses.

"Check her vitals, nurse!" he ordered as he immediately got back to work with the placenta. It was as he had feared.. The placenta had attached to several major organs, including Alan's liver, which had caused the bleeding to start when the fluid sack surrounding the baby and the placenta ruptured. To stop the bleeding completely heavy surgery and probably partly removal of Alan's liver was needed. All Jeffrey could do under these circumstances was to patch Alan up temporarily so that he would make it down to the OR.

"She's not breathing Doctor!" the nurse who was tending the baby called out in frustration. Jeffrey gave Kate one look and another nurse took over Kate's assisting, while Kate was attending the newborn.

"Why… why isn't.. she screaming…." Alan mumbled, tossing his head weakly from side to side. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.

"She'll be fine, Alan! Kate's just helping her to breathe," Jeffrey assured while he worked in a frenzy.

"How much blood so far?" he asked the nurse administrating the blood.

"Three units, Doctor," she answered.

"Alright, you hang on now Alan! Just a few more stitches and we'll get you down to floor five!" Jeffrey demanded as he continued his work.

"How's his heart rate?!"

"It's climbing back, it's looking good Doctor!" the nurse assured. Jeffrey drew a silent sigh of release. All he needed now was a scream from the newborn infant.

"I'm.. feeling.. strange…." Alan croaked, drawing his breath in a shivering gasp. There was one huge rattle in his chest, then all hell broke loose.

"He just flat lined!" the anaesthetics nurse screamed as the intolerable beep of a none beating heart appeared on the tiny heart monitor she'd brought along.

"No! Don't you chicken out on me now, Eel!!!" Jeffrey demanded in desperation as a nurse immediately started massaging his chest.

"Bring the paddles up here!" Jeffrey was so caught up in his work that he didn't even notice his own tears as they started streaming down his cheeks. He wasn't loosing Alan, he wasn't he wasn't! He shoved the nurse away and started CPR himself. In the mean while paddles were brought up a ladder and charged. Kate left the lifeless baby to one of the nurses while she was assisting with giving Alan's heart a jumpstart.

"Charging!" she yelled, and waited for the beep that indicated that the paddles were fully charged: "Clear!" Jeffrey moved away so that she could administer the paddles to Alan's chest. His back arched for a moment while electricity charged through his body, but Alan fell down just as lifeless. Jeffrey went back to massaging while Kate recharged the paddles.

"Clear!" she shouted, and once more electricity tried to convince Alan's heart to start beating again. And once more, no response.

"No, Alan; you little weasel! I'm not letting you slip away like this you bastard! You'll be a man and take the consequences of your choices! There's a little baby girl that's depending on you!" he growled, not minding the fact that the baby girl was as lifeless as Alan.

"How's the baby?," Kate asked as she recharged the paddles for the third time. She was starting to give up hope. Alan had slipped away between their fingers. The only reason she continued charging the paddles was for the look of steel in Jeffrey's eyes.

"Still no heartbeat, Doctor," the reply came flatly: "Should I call the time?"

"NO!" Jeffrey snapped: "You'll continue giving the baby CPR, nurse! She was in distress when we got her out, but she's fine! She just needs some time!"

"Jeffrey…" Kate started, but she quietened quickly when she received a determined glare.

"Clear," she shouted. For the third time Alan's torso spasmed, and for the third time nothing more happened.

"One more time!" Jeffrey ordered, frantically massaging Alan's chest.

"Jeffrey.." Kate started once more.

"ONE MORE TIME ALRIGHT?!!" Jeffrey shouted, madness dawning in his eyes as he was about to loose his second patient for the day. Then, in the midst of all the darkness there came a happy cry from the nurse working on the baby.

"She's breathing doctor!" she yelled just as a confirmative wail sounded like music to everybody's ears in the cramped room.

"Did you hear that, Alan?!" Jeffrey barked: "She made it! Now YOU make it!! Don't you dare leave her like this!!!"

"Clear!" Kate brought forth the paddles for the fourth and last time. Jeffrey stepped back, while willing the man on the bloodstained stretcher to live.

For the last time Alan's back arched and fell down, seemingly as lifeless as before. Kate had already resigned, Jeffrey could tell by her eyes.

"Doctor, I have a heart beat!" the anaesthesia nurse screamed as the wonderful sound of Alan's returning heartbeat ticked out in the room.

The people in the corridors broke out in cheers and applauds, even Jeffrey had to smile although he knew Alan had a far way to go before he was to be considered as the least bit stabile.

"Alright! Let's get this puppy brought down to OR three before he changes his mind!" he urged. The legs on Alan's stretcher was folded so that he and the stretcher could slip through the crack between floor three and four, and there from he was wheeled to the nearest elevator with the promise that no God was so cruel as stop an elevator twice in the same day.

Jeffrey sank down to the elevator floor, too exhausted to move any further.

"Aren't you coming?" Kate asked as she eased herself over the edge of the elevator.

"I ordered this elevator to take me down to second, and so it will!" Jeffrey simply said. He had no strength to go anywhere right now, and this elevator was just as good a place to rest as any.

*-*

Philip arrived the hospital twenty minutes after he'd received the message about Alan's collapse, and joined other nervous spectators in the observation room, overlooking OR three.

"How is he?" he asked as he nudged his way to the front line where Kate Austin was standing.

"For a man surviving an emergency C-section in an elevator… pretty good," Kate stated with raised shoulders. Philip bit his knuckles as he looked down in the OR where the Doctors were trying their best to patch Alan up.

"I told him to stay in bed!" Philip wheezed: "What the hell was he doing out of bed?!"

"I believe this has something to do with it," Kate answered and handed him a bloodstained sheet of paper.

"Jeffrey told me that Alan was holding it when he found him, and he didn't let go of it until his heart stopped." Philip snatched the paper from Kate's hand. After a few moments of reading he looked back down in the OR where Alan's lifeless body was going through major surgery.

"Where's Deck?!" he growled: "That son of a bitch, I'll kill him!!!" And with those words he stormed out of the room, like a deadly hurricane.

Deck was preparing to leave for the day. He was just packing his briefcase when Philip stormed into his office.

"Dr. Watters, what can I do for you?" he asked smoothly as he snapped the briefcase shut.

"Would you be so kind as to explain *this*?!" Philip barked and slapped the paper on his desk. Deck picked it up and gave it a bored glance.

"The elevator has proved to work perfectly every single examination since the regrettable… incident. I didn't see it necessary to waste more of the hospital's money on useless check ups of freight elevators that's had one incident!" he answered smugly, almost as if he could see his own tanned reflection when he spoke.

"The "one" incident just doubled into *two* incidents!!!!" Philip barked: "If that elevator had been thoroughly maintenance-checked every fourteen days as Alan originally scheduled, the second *incident* might have been avoided!!"

"Yes, it *might*!" Deck stated: "What's important here is to minimise the consequences for the hospital! I'll get right on the case, suing the elevator company, and make sure the patient's family don't sue us!" Philip was grateful there was a desk separating him from the other man. If not he would have given him a swollen upper lip.

"Where have you *been* the last hour or so? Haven't you even heard about this until now?"

"I told my secretary I wasn't to be disturbed under any circumstance!" Deck answered cheekily: "That Birch-caricature has been nagging me for weeks now to get in touch with him. The silly little twit hasn't realized he's without a job yet and still thinks he runs this hospital!" he chuckled.

"Alan never believed he ran this hospital," Philip snarled: "and I've weirdly enough been under the illusion I was the one running it. But in Alan's absence I've realized it was him all along. And you're wrong to, because Alan *was* running the hospital, and when he recovers he *will* run the hospital again! So this is your fourteen days' notice, Mr. Deck; you're fired! Oh, and one more thing…" Philip turned as he was heading for the door: "I never liked you Mr. Deck, you're too slick!"

He hurried back to the observation room where Jeffrey just had joined the other doctors, nagging about the elevator still not working.

"Any progress?" Philip asked as he once more elbowed his way to the front line.

"He's hanging by a thread, but knowing Alan I would bet it is a pretty strong one," Kate answered.

"And what about the baby? Did he loose it?"

Kate ran her hand through her short ,curly hair.

"He had a perfect baby girl, 5.3 pounds. She wasn't breathing when we brought her out but we resuscitated her. She's brought down to intensive care, so far she's doing well."

Philip nodded with a sigh. If there was any justice it would have been Deck with his moneysaving knife who was lying stretched out on the operation table, not Alan.

*-*

The Doctors spent nine hours patching Alan up. His abdomen was a mess after the eight months of intruding by a growing foetus, and parts of his liver had to be removed to stop him from bleeding to death. All of Alan's invisible friends silently watched as he was coached urgently back to life after a couple of flat liners, and none of them dared to breathe when he finally was wheeled out of the OR. He was as fragile as the skinniest cup of china, no one knew if he would survive the following and crucial day.

Philip followed as Alan was wheeled into the ICU, and he stayed by his friend's side like a loyal dog, waiting for its master to awake. Pretty funny, given the thought it should have been the other way around. Alan was the loyal dog, and Philip was his master. That was how it had been forever, but maybe things were about to change?

*-*

While Philip sat by Alan's side, Camille and Aaron paid his new-born daughter a visit. Aaron wasn't too fond of the idea, though. He couldn't quite get used to the fact that this baby originated from Alan's stomach. He stood in the corner of the room, sulking, while Camille walked over to the incubator where the baby girl laid.

"Oh, she is gorgeous!" she gasped as she peeked through the glass: "Aaron, come and see!"

"I.. uhm... think I'll just wait here," Aaron answered uneasily and looked at his wristwatch.

"Don't be silly, Aaron! Come see her!" Camille ordered in the certain soft tone only women are able to pull off. Aaron sighed and walked over. He wasn't sure of what he was about to see. His skills and knowledge as a Doctor didn't chase away the phantom image of a freak child with three arms and a grotesque face. A child bore forth by a man; it was unnatural and unheard of. But the image of the Frankenstein baby vanished as his gaze met two blue eyes staring back at him from the incubator. Aaron found nothing wrong with it, no matter how hard he tried. Alan's daughter looked as blessedly normal and beautiful as any new-born baby.

"Should she be left alone like this when she is awake?" he snapped, as latent fatherly instincts kicked in no matter how hard he tried to shove them away.

"Don't worry, Aaron. They take good care of her!" Camille smiled and patted his back, dreaming about babies of her own.

*-*

Five days went by without Alan waking up. Philip started fearing he never might.. His daughter on the other hand was doing fine as a peach and didn't need the incubator anymore. Jeffrey stuck his head in to see how Alan was doing late one afternoon, while Philip was drowsing off by the side of Alan's bed.

"Any improvement?" he asked and entered the room. Philip jerked back to the real world with a snort.

"Jeffrey! I didn't hear you come in," he mumbled and straightened his back: "No, he's the same. He just lays there, all peaceful like he was sleeping." Jeffrey grabbed the chart by the bed and had a look at it.

"He should have woken by now," he mumbled silently as his eyes wandered over the limp body sprawled in the hospital bed. Philip nodded with a sigh.

"I know… But I can't give up hope, not after all he's been through! There would be no justice in this world if he shouldn't recover! I talk to him every day, but there's no response what so ever.. Maybe it's time to accept defeat…" Jeffrey walked over and lay a warm hand upon his shoulder.

"Alan isn't a quitter, Philip. He's fighting, I know it!" An idea formed in his mind and Jeffrey left the room in a hurry.

"There's one thing we haven't tried yet!" he told Philip leaving the room: "If this doesn't wake Alan, nothing will!"

He charged down the hallways, an excited look on his face. He'd seen this work before, therefore it had to work now, it had to! In the nursery he found what he was looking for, a crib labelled "Birch".

"I'm borrowing this little beauty for a few minutes!" he told the nurse in charge and carefully picked up a baby girl tucked into a pink blanket. He left as swiftly as he had come and strolled back down the halls again with a smile building on his face.

"You're going to meet your daddy, pumpkin!" he murmured to the baby eyeing him from where she was cradled in his arms. Memories of his own son flashed by his brain and he didn't care anymore how this baby had been created. She was even more of a miracle than usual!

Philip got to his feet in an instant as Jeffrey entered the room.

"Jeffrey, what are you doing?!" he whispered: "You shouldn't bring *her* in here!"

"Of course I should, he's her daddy!" Jeffrey answered and approached her bed.

"Alan, wake up and see who I've brought to meet you!" he told the man in the bed. He sat down on the bedside, hoping the gurgling sounds Alan's daughter were making would be powerful enough to raise Alan from his coma. Philip paced back and forth, looking uneasy.

"I would have preferred if you'd asked me first!" he mumbled, not taking his eyes from Alan who's heaving chest was the only visible sign he was still alive.

"You would have said no," Jeffrey answered and raised his shoulders: "And you wanted to see your father, didn't you?" he cooed at the yawning baby girl squirming in his arms.

"What do you say, wanna meet him? Wanna meet him right now, you say?" Jeffrey asked the baby and smiled as another yawn was reported back at him.

"Alright honey, here we go," he said and gently put her down on the top of Alan's chest. Philip made some protesting sounds but didn't interfere as father and daughter met for the first time on the outside.

"Can you feel that, Alan?" Jeffrey urged: "That's her, that's your babygirl! All you have to do is to open your eyes and you will see the most beautiful baby that's ever been born on this hospital!"

*-*

He was in a faraway place, where everything was blessedly peaceful. After eight months of never-ending stress Alan was glad to breathe freely and to relax. In this place he didn't have to fight for acceptance, he wasn't frozen out, he was his own master. The pain shrunk here, and he didn't feel the need to return back to the world of disappointments ever again. Why should he? He wouldn't be missed, he had no family and his baby-girl had died within him. If he returned he would die of grief and the agony would rip him apart. It was better this way.

And in this state of apathy he lingered on, waiting to draw his last breath and hopefully be rejoined with his daughter somewhere on the other side. His chest got heavy and he reckoned his time had finally come, but he wasn't filled with fear. He wanted this. Earth wasn't his home anymore.

"Can you feel that, Alan?" A distant voice caught his attention while Alan's soul prepared to make the plunge. Of course he felt it. His chest was so heavy he wouldn't be able to breathe for much longer! But… there was something else… the feeling of something moving.. the feeling of something warm against his skin..

"That's her, that's your baby-girl!" It was like getting smacked in the face. Alan felt a rush of panic rush through his veins. Why couldn't he see her, why couldn't he touch her!?!

"All you have to do is to open your eyes and you will see the most beautiful baby that's ever been born on this hospital!"

A mental cry was all Alan managed to respond with. His daughter was so close, so close, and he couldn't reach her! Would he die like this, banned both in heaven *and* in hell?? He reached out, reached out towards the warmth of his own flesh and blood, fearing she would disappear any second.

he told himself in anguish. It was hopeless.. He was trapped here in this world between worlds and couldn't even die if he wanted to. As he lay there in despair, slowly giving up- invisible fingers touched his lips. It was a simple touch but it was a touch that sent shockwaves through Alan's battered body, raising it back to life.

"His eyelids, look at his eyelids!" the distant voice yelled out.

"Pick up the baby, he's choking!" another distant voice barked.

*-*

Both Doctors had to look at each other to make sure they weren't dreaming. Alan's eyelids were fluttering! The baby had touched his lips with an outstretched arm, and now it seemed like Alan was actually responding.

"Come on, Jeffrey, pick her up!" Philip repeated. Alan's body was so fragile even the weight of a baby might choke him. And then the miracle no one had dared hope for happened, Alan's lips moved slightly and he spoke.

"No." It was only one word, but the two letters sounded like music in Philip's ears. And shortly after two slits opened in Alan's eyes and he drew a big, though shaky inhale of breath. Confusion lit his weary face as he slowly looked around to confirm where he was. He was searching for something or someone… His eyes darted downwards to his chest, and there was a sound of relief, so great that Philip feared Alan's lungs was starting to fail on him again.

"Welcome back, buddy!" Jeffrey said with a smile so huge his eyes disappeared. But Alan didn't seem to notice Jeffrey. He only had eyes for the little lady placed on top of his chest. Watery eyes told everything about his state of euphoria as he silently watched the blessing he was sure he had lost.

"Sweet.. ie," he croaked, looking so incredibly happy and emotional that even Philip had to brush away a tear. Jeffrey picked her up so that Alan would be able to see her face. Alan's pale face was embraced with a warm smile as he made eye contact with his daughter for the very first time. Exhausted by this first encounter he fell asleep again, but the smile stayed on his face. True bliss.

*-*

A couple of hours later Alan woke up again, and this time all of the ones he saw as his friends stood by the side of his bed. In his weary state of mind and body Alan was sure he was dreaming, but it was a wonderful dream none the less. Philip stood closest and in his arms he held Alan's treasure, his baby-girl.

"Hi everybody!" he tried to say, but the words came out muffled and inaudible due to the days he'd spent in a coma.

"Rest your voice, Alan!" Philip urged, but the huge grin on his face told Alan not to take his boss too seriously.

"We've all been worried for you, Alan!" Camille said and patted his hand as she walked up to his side. Alan didn't have the strength to squeeze her hand as he had intended to. Instead he answered with a weak nod. His eyes darted amongst everybody standing opposite him, and his gaze thanked every single one of them. Then his gaze stopped by the squirming blanket in Philip's arms.

"Can I… can I hold her?" he asked, his voice slowly coming back to life for every word he spoke. Philip had a doubting look in his face.

"Sure he can!" Aaron answered and rushed to Alan's side to help him sit up.

"All of his stitches are healing fine and the sooner he starts rehabilitation the better!!!" Aaron told Philip. Pillows were stuffed behind him to support Alan's back, and with new-found strength he lifted his arms to greet his baby daughter.

"Hi sweetie!" he cooed as the tiny body rested in his arms for the first time. "You're a lot smaller than I thought you'd be, but that doesn't matter! The longer you take to grow up the better!" A childlike smile appeared on his face as he could inhale her scent and watch her without fog misting up his eyes.

"Oh, Alan she is adorable!" Camille sighed and brushed a slender hand over the top of the baby's head. Alan looked up at her with tears of joy streaming down his face.

"Even though this is just a dream, I still feel more happy than I've ever been in my entire life. This is the best dream I've ever had!"

"Then it would please you even more to learn that you're *not* dreaming!" Jeffrey told him and placed a kiss on his fingertip and planted it on top of the baby's forehead. A confused smile lit up Alan's face.

"I'm not dreaming? Then why are all of you…"

"We're here for you, Alan," Jeffrey answered and tilted his head as the baby yawned. "And for this little princess of course!"

"Have you thought of a name for her?" Camille asked.

Alan looked down on his daughter, the miracle that had inevitably changed his life forever. Big blue eyes gazed back at him and a small hand clasped around his finger as if she was signalling him to never let her go. Life would be tough on her, Alan knew that. She was carried forth by a man, and would be considered a freak by many. And he? He would stay on at Chicago Hope, fending off lawsuits, and his friends would forget him all over again. He would be stepped on and yelled at, and he would continue defending them with the same passion. Nothing changes over night, or almost nothing. For this little baby girl had restored in Alan what he thought he'd lost. And with pride in his eyes he announced his daughter's name, heart trembling with both worries and delight of what the future would bring.

"Hope," he simply said: "I'm naming her Hope!"

~end~