Their son was born twenty-three minutes after Arion entered the operating room.
He was too small.
That was the first thing Arion noticed.
Not dangerously small, according to the neonatal team, but nothing like the heavy newborn he had imagined every time Dean complained about the child attempting to break his ribs from the inside.
The baby emerged pale, furious for approximately three seconds, and then profoundly unimpressed by existence.
A thin cry cut through the surgical suite before the neonatal physicians took him immediately to the heated assessment station beside the operating theater.
Arion did not move.
Dean's fingers tightened around his.
"Is he alright?"
Arion looked toward the physicians.
Monitors activated around the tiny body. One nurse fitted respiratory support over his face while another checked his temperature and circulation.
Then the neonatologist turned toward them.
"He's stable."
Dean exhaled.
Arion realized only then that he had stopped breathing.
