Chapter Text
Title: Gabriel Knight and the Changeling, 1/?
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Gabriel Knight
Pairing: None this episode
Archive: Yes, but tell me where.
Feedback: poet77665@catlover.com
Sequel: Sequel to Verliebt In Einen Jung Wolf
Disclaimer: Gabriel Knight and Baron Friedrich von Glower belong to the talented Jane Jensen, and the well marketed Sierra. I highly recommend the original PC games. All other characters and the story are my own invention.
Rating: overall series NC-17
Gabriel Knight and the Changeling
Part 1
Larissa gently touched the petals of the rose which sat in solitary splendor in the slender cut glass vase on the table beside her hospital bed. *So soft, so delicate. Like my beautiful Daniel's skin.*
She smiled at the thought, settling back comfortably against her pillow. *They will bring him soon. He will be getting hungry.* She was happy now that she had decided to breast feed her baby. The closeness she had felt when his little lips closed around her nipple and began to draw milk had been incredible.
A moment later the nurse entered the room, a blue wrapped bundle in her arms. It was squalling lustily, and Larissa smiled fondly. But the smile faded slightly as the woman in white neared. The baby seemed to be kicking violently: she could see his arms and legs thrusting against the cloth. "Nurse," she said, beginning to feel anxious. "Is there something wrong with my baby?"
The nurse, used to the worries of new mothers, soothed her automatically. "Oh no, dear. He's just hungry. He has quite an appetite, this one. He's been squalling for the past twenty minutes. You'd think we were starving him."
"Really? But he was so quiet yesterday. Such a good, peaceful baby."
"Well, he'd just been born, then. Maybe he's had a look at the world and isn't too pleased with it," joked the nurse. She laid the squirming infant in Larissa's arms. "Do you need help?"
"No, I think I have the hang of it now." The nurse left to bring the next baby to its mother.
A fold of cloth was pulled over the baby's face, but the cries coming from behind it were not muffled. "Gracious, such language! That won't do, son. It won't do at all." Holding the baby cradled in her arm, she unlaced the front of her gown with her free hand, baring one swollen breast. "I suppose she's right. A little milk should calm you down."
She pulled the flap back to uncover the baby's face, and froze. She stared at the still bawling infant, her eyes growing larger. "Daniel?"
Larissa studied the scrunched, damp face of the baby, the slitted eyes. She could feel his little limbs jerking under the blanket. Not really daring to take her eyes from it, she blindly reached out till she found the call button and pushed it repeatedly.
When the nurse came into the room she found the screaming baby laying on the chair next to the bed, the mother staring at it with an expression of near horror. Nurse Ellena frowned. "Mrs. Linstrom, what is it? You know you shouldn't lay him down like that. Newborns may not be able to move much, but that is a particularly active baby, and he could fall off." She moved to pick up the child.
The young woman, looking very pale, pointed a shaking finger at the infant. "Why did you bring me this?"
Puzzled, the nurse said, "But it's meal time. Daniel needs to be fed." The infant was squirming so vigorously that she had to use extra caution picking him up.
Larissa nodded jerkily. "Yes. Yes, Daniel needs to be fed. Take that away and bring him to me."
Ellena eyed her carefully. The woman had seemed calm enough, even through the harshest stretch of labor yesterday. She hadn't seemed to have any trouble bonding with her baby when it was brought to her the first time, but the nurse had worked in maternity long enough to know that sometimes problems arose unexpectedly.
"Mrs. Lindstrom, this IS your baby." The woman was shaking her head even before Ellena had finished the sentence. "Madam, I assure you. We are very careful about such things in this hospital. Your baby was banded and his footprints taken the moment that the birth matter was wiped away. No infant leaves the delivery room before the proper procedures are performed."
"That is not my child. I want my baby."
Ellena sighed. "Let me show you." She sat on the edge of the bed and laid the infant on the mattress. The way he was thrashing about, she wasn't sure she could hold him safely while uncovering the identification bracelet. She felt a pang of distress when the mother jerked her legs back, rather than let the baby touch them.
As she loosened the blanket, the baby waved his arms and legs so vigorously that it was almost thrown off. *Such skinny little limbs* she thought absently. *You'd think it wasn't full term. It almost looks starved.* She caught the waving right hand and held it, turning the laminated bracelet that dangled there so that she could read it. Then she showed it to the mother. "You see? Lindstrom, Daniel Matthias. Male, DOB 7/3/01, 2:30 PM, 3.98 kb..." Her voice trailed off. "That doesn't sound right, does it?"
She regarded the infant more closely. The arms and legs were stick thin. The baby wore only a disposable diaper, and she could see the faint shadows of his tiny ribs. Alarm began to rise as she rewrapped the infant. "Mrs. Lindstrom, I'm afraid there may be something wrong. I'm having a doctor look at your baby immediately."
As she carried the still protesting little boy out of the room she heard the mother's voice rising frantically. "But it's not my baby! Where is he? Where's my Daniel?" It spiraled up into a shriek that brought another nurse running. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BABY?"
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Doctor Erik Byler took the bawling baby from the anxious nurse. "Spread the blanket on the scales. No reason why the poor mite should be any more uncomfortable than he is already."
Ellenna spread the flannel over the cold metal tray. "His mother was having hysterics when I left. They'll have to sedate her, I think."
"Well, I can understand that. It must have been quite a shock, seeing him in this state." He lowered the infant gently onto the tray and looked at the digital read out. It flickered a little with the baby's motion. When it settled, his eyebrows shot up in consternation. "Good God, nurse! Why haven't they been monitoring this infant? Why wasn't the diarrhea reported?"
"But doctor, there's been no diarrhea. I'm not even sure if he's moved his bowels yet. He's tinkled some, but nothing out of the ordinary."
"That isn't possible. His weight is only 2.75 kilograms! How could he have lost almost one and a quarter kilograms in less than a day if he wasn't gushing fluid? Has he been fed?"
"Yes, doctor. Yesterday in the early evening his mother fed him, and he was given a bottle in the nursery at two am. No one reported any problems."
The doctor hooked his stethoscope in his ears and placed the cone on the baby's narrow chest. "I'm going to need a full battery of tests. This is a very sick baby. Send Dr. Nordstrum immediately, and tell him it's an emergency."
Byler began to examine the baby more closely as the nurse hurried out of the room. He frowned at what he found. He'd been assuming that some form of dehydration had to be at the root of this dire failure to thrive, but as he looked more closely, the possibility became more remote. The symptoms just weren't there. Yes, the eyes were a bit sunken, but the fontanelles were normal. It was easy to examine the child's mucus membrane, as his little mouth gaped open in a continual angry squawk, and it was not dry or sticky. He gently pinched up a fold of skin, earning an even louder squawk, but the skin quickly fell back into its proper state. The elasticity was normal. There were no tears, but that wasn't abnormal with an infant this young.
Dr. Nordstrom, a neo-natal specialist, famous in his field, came into the room. "His lungs sound healthy enough. What do we have here, Erik?" Byler briefly recounted the case while Nordstrom examined the baby himself, taking the infant's temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. "This is odd, Erik. I haven't seen such a massive weight loss unless the infant had severe vomiting or diarrhea. All his vital signs are normal. It seems that there's just the weight loss..." He was stroking the infant's leg, trying to soothe it, and the baby kicked his hand aside. "and the agitation. We may be dealing with an entirely new state. What would you say to having your name on a new disease?"
"I'd rather send a healthy baby back to his mother."
"Of course, of course. Is there anything about the mother or father that might have a bearing on this?"
"Not that I know of. The pregnancy was completely normal--almost boring. Both parents are perfectly healthy. I delivered this baby yesterday, and..." his voice trailed off. "The nurse said that the mother was protesting that this wasn't her baby. Do you know... it doesn't LOOK like the same infant."
Nordstrom made a dismissive gesture. "When you deliver as many as you do, Erik, they start to run together."
"I'm telling you that..."
"Oh, we'll check the prints, just to cover all bases. But when was the last time there was a switch? We're not as haphazard as those American hospitals." He went and got an inkpad and a sheet of paper from a drawer. "In the meantime, call the lab and order an electrolytes test, a sweat test, a BUN test, a urine specific gravity, and a creatine test."
Erik picked up the receiver and dialed the lab as Nordstrom flipped open the inkpad and tried to grab the baby's waving legs. "Ah! Hold still, you imp." He managed to capture one stick thin leg, and pressed the inkpad to the bottom of the tiny foot. Then he pressed the paper to the sole.
He released the leg and reached for the inkpad again, glancing casually at the first print. He hesitated, blinking, then looked at the paper more closely. Byler paused in his instruction to the lab, and Nordstrom shrugged. "I smeared it. Not surprising with the way he's jerking around. I'll just do it again."
Again he captured the waving limb and applied the inkpad. This time he was careful to hold the baby's leg very still, though it wasn't easy. A look of satisfaction on his face, he looked at the new print.
Byler was a little alarmed when he saw the satisfied look fade, to be replaced by consternation. "What is it?"
"This isn't possible." Nordstrom quickly took a print of the baby's other foot, and stared at the paper. "Erik, I've never seen anything like this. This MUST be a new syndrome." He handed the paper to his colleague.
Dr. Byler took the sheet and looked at it. There were three tiny footprints, the black ink standing out sharply against the snowy paper. Each one was a curving shape surmounted by five dots. There was not a single fold or crease visible. The prints, which should have been as individual as fingerprints, were completely featureless and solid. There was something horrifyingly otherworldly in their impersonal, bland smoothness.