Falice: From A to Z

Breathe

Summary: Three times Alice told someone to breathe and one time she was told.

Rating: PG 

Genre: General/light drama

~~Breathe~~

i. Charles

Alice screams. She wants, needs the pain to stop. She hates everything about this place, but this punishment is what she deserves. She messed up royally and this is her penance. Alice lost track of time ever since the contractions started. It could have been hours, or it could have been days. It's hard to tell in her windowless room.

There are two nuns with her in her cramped room, one holding her up and wiping her brow, the other stands guard at the foot of the rickety bed. She has a permanent scowl etched on her brow.

"Push."

So close. Her baby is so close to entering the world.

And then it's over.

It's quiet.

It's too quiet.

Alice looks around frantically and notices the nun's scowl deepen. The other one tries to hold her back.

"Why isn't he crying?" Panic swells in her chest. "Is he breathing?"

"Calm down, my dear," says a sickeningly sweet voice and a nun pushes Alice down onto the pillows. "Everything happens for a reason. It'll be alright."

"Tell me what's going on!"

Alice had never been particularly religious, and this "vacation" of hers has made her less so. For the first time in her life, she closed her eyes and prayed to a higher power and hoped that he actually gave a crap about her.

Breathe.

Please, let him breathe.

Her baby's cries are muffled by blankets as the nuns take him away.

ii. Polly

"I give up. I'm going to fail."

Polly and Hal are gathered around the kitchen table, papers haphazardly thrown around and a laptop with multiple tabs opened to youtube tutorials. Alice is milling about, chopping up vegetables while Betty hides in her room far away from Mission Control.

"Polly, stop being so dramatic. You are not going to fail," Alice reassures her eldest daughter from across the kitchen.

Polly drops her head on her textbook and groans. "I'm so screwed."

Hal leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his short hair. "Well maybe if you spent as much time and energy doing your math homework as you do making eyes at boys, this wouldn't be a problem," he said bitterly.

"Hal!" Alice's eyes flash dangerously. "I understand that you're frustrated, but that kind of attitude isn't helpful to anybody.."

He shrugs. "I'm going to regroup. I'll be in the garage if you need me."

As his footsteps grow more distant, Alice becomes aware of another, more distressing sound coming from her 15 year old daughter.

"Polly, are you crying?"

"No," she defends a little too quickly. Her head is still buried in her book.

Alice raises a disbelieving eyebrow and takes a seat next to Polly. "Don't lie to me," she says softly. It's a plea, not a command.