17. Bertram
Bertram
Bertram had no fucking idea if the fucking egg was going to hatch or not. How could he?
All he knew was that Helena had been crying, and he needed her to be not crying.
In the years since Helena had thoroughly smashed his heart to pieces, Bertram had spent more than his fair share of time crying over her.
So, if Bertram was asked what he thought it would be like to watch Helena weep, words that historically sprung to mind might have included “vindicating,” “satisfying,” and “serves her right.”
But now that he was actually watching Helena weep, the adjectives that came up were “gut-wrenching,” “awful,” and “oh God, oh God, make her stop.”
And stop she had . . . but not until she had fallen asleep, firmly snuggled against him.
He couldn’t keep himself from gently wiping the remaining tears off her face with one large thumb. He didn’t think twice about it. Didn’t worry about waking her. He knew once Helena de Narbon was asleep, no one was waking her by accident. Even waking her on purpose usually took several tries.
It was Bertram’s intimate knowledge of her—and how much of that knowledge still held true—that stung him the most. At times, being around Helena felt like being with a complete stranger.
Then in the next minute, he felt he was with someone he knew so completely she might as well have been his own shadow.
She was his shadow, for so many years. Always by his side. Always there to encourage him. To support him.
She was the first Person to make him think that he might actually be worth something. And not just because his mother was a famous scientist or because he stood to inherit money and a title.
Helena made Bertram think that he might be worth something just because he was . . . Bertram.
And not worth something in spite of being a half-orc, half-vampire, as if his parentage were something that needed to be overlooked.
Just Bertram. A half-orc, half-vampire. Worth something. Worth everything.
That’s how Helena used to look at him. As if he were worth everything.
That’s how she still looked at him, in some moments. When she fell asleep, clinging to his chest as if he was her life raft in a stormy sea . . . she was looking at him like that again. Like he were worth everything.
But she used to look at him like he were worth everything when she told him that he was worth nothing.
So why was he allowing himself to be roped under her spell once again?
Bertram’s phone went off and he quickly grabbed it, doing his best not to jostle the sleeping Helena as he did.
Mom
Transport arrived. Taking V-1 to SDZMSP for a necropsy. You good to watch egg?
Bertram
Will guard it with my life.
Mom
How’s Helena doing?
Bertram
Understandably devastated.
I’m being nice to her.
I promise.
Mom
If I’d known the death of a protected species was all it took for that, I would’ve killed an owl-bear myself day 1.
KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Bertram
I know
Mom
Not sure how long I’ll be in SD. Placing delivery order for you and H and egg—what are you going to need?
Bertram
Does SDZM have incubators that could fit an owl-bear egg? If not, get us heating pads and blankets until you can get one from Midsummer or wherever.
Mom
Midsummer will have them for sure, but I think SDZM has a griffin rewilding program that will have appropriately sized incubators. I’ll keep you updated.
Bertram
Extra blankets for us humanoids, too, please. Just in case.
Mom
What else?
Bertram
A candler.
A big-ass candler.
Mom
and assuming they only have regular ass candlers?
Bertram
If SDZMSP doesn’t candle their griffin eggs, I can build a candler. I have my soldering gun etc here so if you can just get me some reasonably sturdy plywood and thick wire, I’ll make something.
Mom
Do you need hammer/nails?
Bertram
If I brought a soldering gun don’t you think I probably brought hammer and nails?
Rather than respond, Jennie simply “question reacted” to her original query. Bertram sighed.
Yes, I have hammer/nails/soldering gun/screwdriver/etc. Need wood and wire. Probably need a stronger flashlight than we have currently. As strong as possible. Eggshell was pretty thick.
Mom
How heavy would you say the egg was?
Bertram thought for a moment.
Bertram
I want to say maybe 20-ish pounds? 25?
Mom
use kilograms, Bertram. you’re not a child.