[One Shot, Crossover] The Day Finally Arrived...

[casterofcolchis]

The physician had warned her, and in truth she had known the risks.

There were risks in pregnancy no matter the era. In her time, it was not uncommon for women to die during the nine months it took to carry a child, and the likelihood of death only increased if the expectant mother made it to childbirth. Even if immense strides in the medical arena had indeed been made since her time, Medea was not foolish enough to believe that all pregnancies proceeded flawlessly. Thus, a pregnancy on its own would be cause for concern.

Combine that inherent concern with the fact of her mate being an entirely different species, suddenly the situation became a thousand times more complicated. Even if Thanos was humanoid in form, there were significant physical differences between them. To add further complications, Medea was a Heroic Spirit given life and flesh anew by the power of the Holy Grail – strictly speaking, she was not a living being. It had taken her magic, combined with the power of the Infinity Stones to allow her to conceive with Thanos. She would not have been able to do so otherwise.

But Medea soon realized that conceiving their child had been the easy task. Carrying said child was a different matter entirely.

Medea was in the final trimester of her pregnancy. It had proven to be more difficult than she remembered from her previous pregnancies. Certain sounds immediately triggered skull-splitting headaches that made her incredibly irate, certain smells immediately made her stomach turn and overwhelm her with a sensation of nausea. At the moment, she was doubled over as white-hot pain shot through her abdomen. Medea gripped the vanity, dragging her nails over its stone surface. Her jaw set and her teeth clenched so tight that she could swear she tasted blood. The pain raked up her front from her core, it was almost unbearable. Such searing pain had also become rather common of late. But she tried to keep it concealed from Thanos, Medea did not want to appear weak. This pain was not the pain she remembered from her other pregnancies, or even from childbirth – but then again, this was not a typical pregnancy.

Because such a union had never happened before in the history of the galaxy, determining Medea’s due date was more of an estimated guess rather than a precise prediction. Medea had discussed her previous pregnancies and deliveries with the physician; the physician had based his estimation of her due date on that information and his knowledge of the gestation cycles experienced by Titan females. Said due date was drawing near – so her pain was not inexplicable.

But it simply did not feel right to her. Something about this pain felt wrong.

Perhaps it was simply the nature of the pregnancy. Already Medea could feel that this baby was significantly larger than any other child she had carried before. And it was significantly more restless than the others had been. In theory, Medea could have eased her discomfort by using her magic to expand her womb to better accommodate the baby. But Medea feared that her magic would inflict unintended side effects upon the baby. Protecting her unborn child was top priority for Medea over her own comfort – she could endure the pain so long as she kept that in mind.

But the pain was so intense that when she experienced particularly overwhelming sensations, Medea sought solitude from Thanos and the few maids she had acquired to serve her through her pregnancy. Partly to ride out the pain in peace and partly to keep any of her cries silenced from prying ears – her magic was a key help with that.

Thanos likely would not take kindly to Medea concealing anything from him, pain especially. But she did not want him to be tempted to use the Infinity Gauntlet to ease her suffering. Again, she was concerned about the negative impact such attempts would have on the baby. Better to keep Thanos in the dark, at least for now. Her pregnancy would be over soon, the physician was doing his best so why burden Thanos with more worry?

Slowly the pain began to subside. Medea hissed in a breath through clenched teeth. As she turned her head up she saw her reflection in the mirror, only then did she realize just how pale her complexion was. Medea had always boasted her alabaster skin, but this was different – worse. She loosened her grip on the vanity, but immediately a lightheadedness fell upon her. Medea lost her balance, and it was all she could do to turn just slightly to land on her side, rather than fall forward onto her belly.

She tried to cry out, but the moment her head hit the stone floor, Medea was knocked out cold.

****

Thanos had been outside, begrudgingly getting some fresh air. Mind told him that Medea wanted distance from him for the time being, but it would not yield to him the reason why. He was already annoyed being separated from her with her pregnancy drawing to a close, and with just how often she had sought such solitude from him lately – but to have one of the Infinity Stones obeying her whims over his own, Thanos was damn near furious. The Infinity Stones were his to command, yet here they were, concealing things from him. Perhaps it was because a child of his blood grew within her; the Stones could have been responding to that part of him within her. Still, it shouldn’t have been possible, the Infinity Stones were secured in the Gauntlet around his hand. There should have been no question as to who was their true master.

His reverie was disrupted when one of Medea’s maids came running from the house. Immediately Thanos was on edge as she approached. The girl had a look of panic in her eyes as she delivered her news.

Medea had fallen hard and hit her head, but upon moving her with the physician, her water broke.

Medea had officially gone into labor.
****

The physician and two of Medea’s maids had moved her carefully to the nearest bed to deliver the baby. Medea had weakly commanded her maid before sending her to inform Thanos, he was not to enter the room until she had given birth. The maid had gone pale, but scurried to obey all the same. Medea knew Thanos would not be pleased to hear that request, and if he chose to force his way into the room either with his own brute strength or using the Gauntlet, there was nothing she could do to stop him. Especially not in her current state; with the labor pains rushing through her, Medea could not focus her magic to cast a proper spell. But it was her traditional way, women of her era – royalty especially – would give birth while the father waited outside to 9hear the news, typically while celebrating in a feasting hall. It would be Thanos’ choice if he decided to honor her wish or not.

Medea recalled the rhythm of pushing and breathing from her previous births, and she obeyed the instructions from the physician as he settled into position at the foot of the bed to guide the baby out. But as closely as she followed his instructions and as hard as she tried to focus, this was pain unlike any of her previous births, and getting the pattern just right was proving difficult. The pain was excruciating, far worse than it had been thus far. It felt as though the baby was pulling her organs out along with it as it began to descend. Medea’s nails clawed at the sheets and tore holes in the fabric. Her maid tried to keep her calm by wiping her brow with a damp cloth.

But despite the best efforts of the maid and physician, Medea felt fear and anxiety rush through her. Her pulse quickened and her vision darkened. What if she didn’t survive birthing this child? What if the baby didn’t survive being born? Suddenly Medea felt her breath catch in her chest, and she couldn’t focus to push. She was overwhelmed with pure terror. Barely could she hear the physician instructing her, as if he were miles away. It was all she could do to take in the smallest breath before she suddenly burst into tears.

It was silly, she knew that, but she had been keeping so much bottled up over the last month especially that she couldn’t hold back anymore. Medea couldn’t fight back against the fear that seized her.

“I…Th…Thanos-!” She stammered through her pain and panic. “I need him, I need Thanos!”

The command was barely out of her mouth before the maid beside her bolted from the room to obey. She was only out of sight for a second when Thanos burst in, nearly breaking the doors off their hinges. Medea took one look at him and tried to calm herself down, tried to be that regal, dignified sorceress she had always been. But it was no use, once again she burst into tears. Even when she heard his knowing, almost paternal chuckle, Medea couldn’t stop crying.

She heard his heavy footfalls as he approached the bed. His gauntlet-clad hand rested on her shoulder while the other gently stroked over her cascade of lavender hair. Medea did manage to stop sobbing, but the tears continued to run down her face in a steady stream. With one brush of his thumb, Thanos wiped the tears from the left side of her face. Somehow the simple little gesture and his sheer presence made Medea feel more at ease. Medea blushed, feeling so childish for crying so much and so hard. For the moment, Thanos said nothing. He simply wiped the rest of her tears away.

“Lady Medea,” the physician spoke up timidly, but there was an insistent urgency in his voice. Thanos’ presence did not seem so soothing to him. No doubt there was now an added pressure to make sure that all went well in the delivery. If something went wrong now with Thanos in the room, his fury would be immediate and unrelenting – and would likely result in one less physician practicing his craft in the galaxy. “We have a limited window to get the baby out and breathing properly. You need to start pushing again.”

Medea glanced up to Thanos with fearful eyes, as though she were looking to him to confirm the physician’s order. Thanos almost seemed amused by the anxious look in her eyes, but he nodded slowly. Medea was apprehensive, but she was still in a great deal of pain and she knew that it wouldn’t stop until the delivery was finished. Slowly she began to push again. The pain intensified, raking up her core again as the baby shifted and continued its descent. Medea set her jaw as the pain mounted. She was determined to be stronger and calmer now that Thanos was beside her.

The physician moved and adjusted his hands near Medea’s womanhood – Thanos seemed to bristle at the motion, but having birthed five children before, Medea knew this was the normal stance for the physician to take. He needed to be in place to guide the baby out so that it wouldn’t fall. Medea pushed again and as she breathed through her clenched teeth, she felt a slight release in pressure.

“That’s it! The head is out, my lady. You’re nearly there, just the shoulders now,” the physician encouraged her. The relief and joy in his voice reassured her on some level; surely if something was wrong, he would have been much quieter, less jubilant.

Thanos gave Medea’s shoulder a squeeze, and that was far more encouraging that anything the physician could have said or done. The pain was far worse than before, Medea could feel the thick drip of blood against her thighs as she pushed. But the shoulders were always the worst part of childbirth. At least this pain she understood. Medea pushed carefully, breathing deep as she did so. If she pushed too hard, she could cause some manner of tear within her body, especially given the size of this child and she could bleed out. Worst-case scenario, she could bleed out and the baby could end up choking on her blood. Medea had to be careful. As she pushed, Medea focused on the heat from Thanos’ body to keep from passing out from the pain.

A few minutes seemed like an eternity, but Medea felt a sudden rush as the building pressure suddenly released. She could feel the shoulders clear, and the physician carefully took hold of the baby as it practically slid out the rest of the way. Medea gave a relieved groan and collapsed back against the pillows, Thanos kept his grip on her shoulder to ease her down slowly. The pain ebbed for a moment before it subsided into a dull ache. The physician took the baby with practiced hands. Once he stabilized the baby and cleared the rest of the afterbirth from Medea’s body, he secured a section of the umbilical cord and signaled for Thanos to approach. The Mad Titan stepped over to where the physician sat, and used the knife he offered to sever the umbilical cord, as was customary. The physician then hurried to clean the baby and get it breathing.

Despite her exhaustion, Medea wondered how Titans typically gave birth. How similar was their process to that of a human? She didn’t have the energy to ponder the question beyond that lone question, but it was an interesting thought all the same.

What concerned her more was the fact that her newborn had yet to make a sound.

During her lifetime, this was probably the most nerve-wracking part of childbirth. Now was when they found out for certain if the baby had survived or not. Medea couldn’t stand the waiting. She tried to sit up properly to get a better view of the room. This seemed to alarm Thanos as he quickly returned to her side. He set his hand firmly on her shoulder to keep her in place.

“The baby…” she mumbled.

“Is fine,” he assured her.

Medea glowered at him, wanting to see for herself whether the baby was fine, annoyed with him that he stood in her way of seeing the baby that felt as though it had nearly killed her. Suddenly the baby made a sharp cry before it began to wail. Rather than worry, Medea sighed in relief. She smiled and looked to Thanos, her fury completely vanished. He seemed uneasy by the cry from the baby. Within minutes the physician brought the newborn to them, wrapped up in a soft blanket to keep it warm.

“Congratulations – your son is in perfect health,” the physician passed the baby to Medea, taking care to support the neck and head.

A son.

She had carried and birthed a healthy son.

Medea nearly burst into tears again, she was so overwhelmed with joy. Carefully she took the baby in her arms and cradled him so that Thanos could have a proper look at his face. The baby fussed and cooed, curling into the folds of the soft blanket in search of warmth. Medea smiled at the sight.

The baby had light purple skin, a shade lighter than Thanos’ own skin. He had a small tuft of light lavender hair, it was almost platinum gray in color. He looked nothing like Medea’s previous sons, and that suited her just fine. Even if the physical differences had not been so obvious, Medea could just feel how this child was different. It was easy to see now why she had such trouble during her pregnancy; by human standards the baby was indeed rather long and a bit larger than typical full-term babies. Still, though he was larger than Medea was used to, he was barely large enough to fit in Thanos’ palm.

Medea’s dark blue eyes glanced up to Thanos as she held the baby up to him.

“Do you want to hold him, your son?” the hesitation in his eyes almost made her laugh. The great Mad Titan, conqueror of the known universe, unnerved by something so meek and small as a newborn baby. Thanos may have been used to having young adopted daughters, but a child born of the blood was new territory. Medea rather liked that. Despite agreeing with Thanos that their child should be a fearsome warrior, Medea knew that there was a certain level of gentle nurturing required for newborns. She figured she would have to take the lead on that note; even in his gentlest moments with her, Thanos was inherently rather rough. If they were too harsh with their son too soon, it would do him more harm than good. Thanos’ adopted daughters had all been of age when he’d taken them in, so to him they had always been old enough to handle that ‘tough love.’ It would take time to find that balance, but Medea wasn’t worried.

It was hard not to be in a good mood seeing their son so healthy and content, resting so peacefully.

When Thanos hesitated, Medea chuckled softly and moved to carefully place the baby into the crook of his arm.

“He isn’t made of glass, don’t worry you won’t break him. They are more durable than you might think.”

For all his power and typically calm demeanor, Thanos seemed nervous to hold something so small. After a moment he settled comfortably on the bed beside her. Again the baby fussed, but Medea was quick to gently hush him. She adjusted the blanket to cover part of his little face. “He’s just cold.”

As Thanos began to relax, Medea leaned up a little to nuzzle against his neck and jaw.

“He’s so small,” Thanos observed.

Medea laughed, not moving from her position. “Easy for you to say! I promise you, he is not so small to me!”

Thanos laughed in turn, shifting a little on the bed. Medea felt his free hand settle near her hip. “I suppose not. He’s quieter than I expected.”

“That won’t last either,” Medea replied with a smirk. “Especially when he gets hungry.”

Medea moved her head a little to rest more comfortably against the groove of his neck, nuzzling his jaw. The baby made a few soft grunts and noises as he shifted in the blanket. Medea reached to stroke her fingers over the down-soft hair on his head.

“He doesn’t look like your kind,” Thanos moved a little to look down at Medea.

“No, he doesn’t,” Medea agreed. “But that is of little consequence to me.”

Her fingers fluttered over the baby and for a brief moment he glowed a soft pink before returning to his natural color. Thanos made a low sound in his throat – some combination of curiosity and concern. Medea retracted her hand and gave Thanos a reassuring smile
“He is healthy, that is all that matters to me. There are no internal abnormalities that my magic detects,” she told him. This seemed to put Thanos at ease.

Again Thanos turned his attention to the baby as he made a slight whining sound. But Medea was not concerned by the noise, so Thanos remained relaxed. He seemed to be taking cues from her, and it rather surprised Medea. But again, she liked it.

“He will need a name,” Thanos pointed out. “How did you name your sons?”

Medea considered the question as she again shifted her body to settle more comfortably against him. The heat of his body was surprisingly soothing. His chest felt so sturdy and solid, she could have easily fallen asleep this way.

“In all honesty, Jason named my sons. But there are many factors my people consider when choosing a name, especially for sons,” Medea replied. “A son usually bears a name variant of his father’s. That, or a name is chosen to honor a god or the stars under which the child is born.”

“How then would you name our young one here?” He asked. Medea sat up a little to look down at their son.

“Well, given who his father is, he will naturally need a strong name,” she smiled, her dark eyes flashing playfully to Thanos before she returned her gaze to the baby. “Deimos and Phobos, terror and panic, they were the sons of Ares, the god of war. Hektor was a great warrior of legend, a champion of the Trojan War, as was the warrior Ajax. Lenox was also a name I always thought of with fondness.”

Medea tilted her head to look up into Thanos’ eyes.

“So then…which, if any, do you prefer?”