Chapter Text
Genevieve Wick was not only proud of her station, but also proud of the fact that she was not a gossip. So when a rumors of a newborn baby being delivered and now living on the base started spreading like wildfire she dismissed them. After all, she would have known. She would have been there to safely deliver the baby. To care for both mother and child after the trauma birth can be. But she wasn’t, so they were simply ridiculous rumors. Or so she thought, until someone decided to barge into her warded office in the middle of a stormy August day.
It was almost lunch, Genevieve realized belatedly as the thunder boomed loudly outside. She was the on-call senior fixer, a junior fixer running the infirmary while she worked through the pile of paperwork on her desk. There had been no exciting injuries in months. No challenges for the head fixer, only the usual broken clavicle and wrist, and a single leg. Not even the return of the ever dramatic Bellwether unit, or the raised from the dead General had brought excitement into the infirmary the way it did every other corner of the base. She hoped that when the woman who had raised from the dead became common knowledge in a few months at least something exciting would happen then. She groaned at the thought of 5 more boring months, letting her head fall into her palm as she pinched her nose. When the door slammed open, she nearly jumped in shock, no one should be able to get through her office wards except-
“General Alder?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice at the woman in front of her, looking none the General she had known her entire life. Gone was the braid, her dark hair was instead thrown into a falling messy bun. Gone was the uniform, in its place a pair of grey sweatpants that were a little to short, a US Army t-shirt, and- holy shit those were crocs. She was staring at the General of the United States Army (sort of) and that woman was wearing crocs. That also looked like they were the wrong side. She was so busy staring at the feet that she barely noticed what the general carried in her arms. Though the screaming was definitely the thing that drew her eyes from the footwear to the armful. The armful of tiny baby. The General was carrying a baby tightly wrapped in a moose blanket. That was screaming. Likely a fosterling, though that didn’t explain the outfit the General wore.
“Colonel Wick, she-she won’t stop screaming and she is running warm and I- I don’t know what to do.” Well, she sounded near tears. Was that why her eyes were so red? Had she been crying? Genevieve had never felt so thrown off kilter as she stood quickly, and walked toward the panicking general. She was a fixer, and this was something she could fix.
“Ah, alright General." It was flu season, likely nothing to worrisome even if Alder seemed ready to blow at the moment. "It's good to see you still make time to visit the fosterlings." Distract the scary lady Genevieve thought, even as the word caused Alder's face to spasm with what Gen thought might be confusion. It couldn't be though, so rather than dwell on it she simply asked-
"May I see the baby?” She raised a brow at the way Alders arms tightened and pulled the babe farther from her, she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew the General had a soft spot for the fosterlings though she hadn’t realized there were any so young on base.
“Ma’am if you want me to help, I need to be able to actually check the baby. Which means you need to let me have her?” She wasn't exactly sure why she made that a question but Alder simply nodded hesitantly. Then she carefully handing over the moose wrapped child and Genevieve finally got a good look at her. Dark red hair, she looked barely two weeks old. The face nearly matched the redness of the screaming child’s cheeks. Eyes squeezed tightly shut as she screamed and screamed over the storm raging outside.
“Ma’am do you know what her name is?” She asked as she gently carried the fussy babe to the fosterling wing.
“Aella, her- her name is Aella.” That was absolutely lovely, she wondered who her parents had been. Wondered what kind of tragedy this little one suffered through to bring her to join the fosterlings so young. A thought that vanished as she laid the still screaming baby on one of the small nursery beds, ignoring the woman literally hovering behind her. Closely.
“Well hello there miss Aella. Now what has you feeling so down hm? Don't you worry Genni is gonna figure it all out.” She cooed as she laid a hand on the tiny red brow...and as someone breathed down her neck. She huffed.
“General Alder, I understand that you are worried but I really need you to let me work. Why don’t you sit in the chair by the bed hm?” She said, clenching her teeth and trying not to get murdered. Or fired. To her surprise the woman went without complaint, and pulled a chair until she sat at the end of the small bed chin in her hands as she leaned forward. Gen barely refrained from rolling her eyes as she turned to the baby and continued her brief but thorough examination.
“She is running a very low fever General, but no ear infection and other than a stuffy nose I can’t find any sure results of flu. Plus she seems too young to be teething. Honestly it’s probably just seasonal allergies. They are common, especially this time of year. Do you know if either of her parents suffer?” The General was nodding.
“Ta-Her mom. Her mom gets them horribly, both fall and spring. Relies on Civilian medications to deal with them.” She nodded once, turning back to the adorable little one in front of her. Aella's harsh screams had started to quiet as Gen had started to talk, finishing the examination quickly but the babe seemed utterly exhausted considering she fell asleep without even opening her eyes. Even the storm outside seemed to fade with the sad cries that tore at her heart. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen such a cute baby. She wasn’t a liar, babies were usually not cute especially the young and would usually just say congrats you have a new baby at deliveries. But this one, soundly sleeping while Gen swaddled her tightly, was utterly adorable.
“Well if her parents suffered from them, it’s pretty likely she will too. Just tell the fosterling heads to keep an eye on the fever, it’s only 99.1 now so if it gets higher or persists tell them to just get in a steam shower with her and to keep cleaning out her nose if she keeps getting stuffy. Just tell em saline drops, and love pats they’ll understand.” She didn’t notice the odd look of utter uncertainty Alder was giving her, or the mouthed 'who will understand'. She was too busy wrapping the baby in the moose covered blanket.
“Usually you just gotta wait this sort of thing out. She's too young for any medication, and too young for most of our witches work when it comes to this kind of thing. Though If it goes above 99.5 bring her back and we will get some witches work going on her.” She hated using work on babies this young but if needed, especially for this precious angel, she would.
“Thank you, Colonel Wick. Truly, thank you so much.” The General said as she gently lifted the babe. Gen was almost impressed with the ease and comfortability the woman lifted Aella with. It was kinda sweet.
“It was no problem Ma’am, always happy to help the kiddo’s though it’s been a while since I’ve seen them this young. Oh, could you remind the fosterling heads to bring her back when she is feeling a bit better and we can get her started on vaccinations. Quick jabs, she must be late for them since I've never seen this one in here before.” She watched as the General visibly paled, but nodded and walked out of the fosterling wing, looking far less harried but just as hurried as when she had come in.
That had been weird as fuck. Not just the goodbye either, the last half hour had been the weirdest in months.
Cute baby though, she thought before shrugging and returning to her office. That may have been the most interesting thing to happen in months, but it didn’t erase the stack of paperwork growing like one of Izadora’s damn fungi.