Phoenix (Editing)

Chapter 3 *Edited*

All the bravado she felt before leached out of her and her knees wobbled as she took unsteady steps down the stairs. The further down she progressed the more depressing the hospital appeared. The walls were painted off-white and puke green a lifetime ago and were in much need of a face lift. Her fingers slid over the cracked and peeling paint as she used the wall to help herself along.

She hadn't waited for the nurse to get an orderly and quickly made her way to the elevator. She didn't realize how much it would cost her until she stood breathless waiting for the doors to slide open. She supposed her energy before came from anger as she assaulted her husband, but now grief and fear seemed to be sucking away all signs of strength.

She paused as she stared at the large stainless steel double doors with the word 'Morgue' etched over them on a black plaque. Her chest felt tight, and she knew she should take a moment to collect herself, but she was so scattered that she didn't think she'd ever find herself again. Claire's hand shook as she reached for the handle and tried to pull one of the doors open.

"Claire?" She heard her mother's soft voice behind her at the top of the stairs. "You should have told us you were coming here. You shouldn't have to do this by yourself." Mrs. Atwater continued as she lifted her long flowing skirt and stepped sideways down the stairs, her husband's hand at her elbow as he assisted her down. She'd had surgery on her knees three times in the last two years and steps hadn't been kind to her since.

"I know." Claire had turned to face them. "I couldn't wait any longer. I have to see them." She should open the door, she knew, but part of her didn't want to. She still felt sometimes as if she were dreaming. Everything was so surreal, and she just wanted to wake up from the non-stop nightmare. In just a matter of moments her whole world had spiraled out of control, and she lost everything.

She barely noticed her father reach around her and open the door that she wasn't blocking. She took a shaky breath, tears filling her eyes as she placed a hand to her stomach feeling that phantom kicking again.

"You don't have to do this now if you don't want to." Her father's deep baritone voice filled her ear as he gave her a one-armed hug.

She looked up at him feeling so lost and confused, but she knew that this was something that she had to do. She sniffed and shook her head, taking a step into the long hall beyond. The medical attendant looked up as he heard them nearing, he quickly stood from his computer and approached them. "I'm sorry, but no one's allowed down here right now." He eyed Claire's hospital gown curiously.

"I just want to see my sons. Please, I won't stay long ... I just ... I just want to be able to hold them one time." Claire's voice broke as grief overcame her and her father had to wrap his arm around her waist to help support her.

The attendant opened his mouth to say something else, but Claire's father quickly cut him off, pulling him a few feet away to talk with him privately. Claire's knees felt weak as she looked around the large room. It smelled like antiseptics with the lingering odor of death. She eyed the metal doors in the walls, wondering behind which lay her sons.

The attendant gave her one last look before he turned and walked off. Her father approached and hugged her. "Give him a minute. Let's wait in the hall while he brings them out for a quick viewing." He suggested.

Claire nodded as she blinked back tears, but she let her father guide her back into the hall.

Less than fifteen minutes later Claire wasn't sure if she could go through with it after all. They were placed on the examination table side by side; their small bodies making little lumps under the white hospital cover. Her hand trembled as she slowly pulled back one corner. She gasped as a tiny hand came into view and her other hand flew to cover her mouth. Her heart felt like it would either stop or explode as she finally pulled the cover away completely.

A sob escaped her and she felt her mothers' gentle and reassuring hand on her shoulder. They were perfect. She knew immediately which one was Dylan and which one was Damian. She slowly reached her hand out to smooth the dark curls on Damian's head and her chest tightened even more at the cold, clammy feel of his skin. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind as she lifted Dylan's little hand in hers and bent over to place a kiss on it, then on Damian's.

She'd never known anything could be so painful. She wept freely as she leaned across the table to place her face next to Dylan's. If not for the incisions in their little chests she would have thought they were merely sleeping.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." She whispered as she gently lifted him from the table and cradled him in her arms. Tears ran down the tip of her nose as she attempted to hum a lullaby that he would never hear and something inside her snapped.

"I think we should get you back upstairs, sweetie. You need your rest." Her mother lightly touched her arm.

"Please ..." Claire stammered, her tear-filled eyes beseeching and her mother's heart broke all over again for her. "They can't be here by themselves. They need me."

"Honey," Her mother began carefully, taking a step closer. "They're gone. These are just their bodies, but their souls ... their spirits have moved on."

"What are you talking about? They're sleeping. I don't know what kind of hospital this is, but as soon as I get out of here, I'm going to have a word with the Chief of Staff." Claire gently caressed the fuzz that would have been hair on the top of Dylan's head.

Mrs. Atwater looked to her husband for support, her own tears brimming as she realized that her daughter was losing, if she hadn't already lost, her grip on reality. Claire's father stepped forward and put his arms around her waist. She looked up at him. "He's precious, isn't he? They already have your nose."

"Yes." He agreed solemnly. "But we don't want to wake them, so why don't we let the nurse take them back to the nursery and you can get some rest before they wake up." He almost choked on the words, but he didn't want to upset her.

"No." She backed away from him shaking her head. "I don't like this place. I'm not leaving my children here. God only knows what they do to them once the parents are gone and it's so cold in here. How can they expect them to not get sick?!"

"Sweetheart, I will personally talk to the Chief of Staff, the Head of the Board, and whoever else you want me to, but right now you need rest. You're running on fumes, and you can't take care of yourself like that much less two babies. Let me take him and you go with your mother." Claire gave him a look overflowing with mourning, confusion, and pain. "I'll take good care of them, I promise." Her father urged her as he gently took the body from her hands.

"Okay," She gasped through tears," but I want them in my room when I wake up. Okay Daddy?" Tears slid down her cheeks as her mother cooed softly as she guided her towards the exit.

***Hi!!! Thank you so much for reading this far and giving my story a chance. If this chapter touched you in any way, please vote! Much appreciated! Love ***