Two more months passed quickly with life quickly falling into a daily pattern. Emma and Dean would wake with the sun's first rays, bathe in the lagoon and eat a small breakfast. After breakfast while Dean went to one of the nearby streams to fish, Emma would begin preparing the food for their midday meal. When Dean returned from fishing, Emma would cook the fish and Dean would work in the small garden the two had begun. Since the garden had yet to produce enough for the two, Dean would then go out foraging, and after gathering either bananas, berries or some other foods which grew on the island, he would return and have their final mean of the day before working on their shelter.
Both Dean and Emma had changed since first arriving on the island. Emma was now almost nine months pregnant. While she had gained weight due to the coming child, Emma had also gained some muscle. Her skin, though not pale before arriving, now appeared almost brown, and her hair extended down to her mid-back and generously covered both her breasts. She spent most of her time by the lagoon preparing the food, mending the few usable garments the two had, and expanding on the shelter she and Dean had constructed. If she had not been pregnant Dean knew that Emma would be helping him with the food gathering and exploring the island, like he himself was continuing to do daily.
Dean's changes, though, were far more extensive. He had grown at least a good five inches, placing him well over six feet. Since he was unable to measure his height, Dean wondered sometimes how much he had actually grown and if he was still growing. His shoulders were now a good foot wider, and his abs were eight solid bricks. Dean's pectoral muscles jutted forth from his body. His forearms were thick like pythons and his biceps looked like mountains if he flexed them. His legs were two columns of rock hard muscle that were now covered in a moderate amount of hair. Dean's hair had also grown long now coming to his shoulders; while he still did not have much body hair, Dean had grown a respectable beard. Dean mostly gathered food, fished, helped Emma with the construction, and any extra time trying to learn as many other skills as possible.
One skill that Dean had been practicing was using his knife for self defense. He had only begun to try to learn this skill after seeing the second panther by the lagoon, but he knew that it might be helpful eventually to be able to defend himself and Emma. He mainly focused on learning to fend off a panther, but for a reason he could not understand, he also sometimes practiced with another person in mind, as if he needed to make sure that if anyone ever came, Dean would be able to stop them if the newcomers were not friendly.
The idea that he would have to provide for another mouth was now an ever present thought. The other thought that occupied his mind when not worried about his coming child was the jaguar that they had seen two months back. While he was more concerned with providing food, Dean knew the jaguar would need to be dealt with. He was not going to give the animal the chance to hurt Emma or their child.
Dean also had been working on another specific skill; he was learning to track animals through the jungle. Having learned a great deal since loosing the jaguar on the beach, Dean could now follow most trails that an animal left on the island, but he had yet to find the panthers.
Returning from savaging the forest, Dean found Emma by the lagoon preparing some of the fish that he had caught. It was when she turned around in her sitting position that he first noticed the look of discomfort on her face. "Hey, what's wrong Prom Queen?" He asked as she stood. Before she could answer though, her water broke.
Emma would later tell Dean that the look on his face when he saw the water come gushing out, was priceless to behold, but in that moment, Emma was more occupied with the extreme pain that she was suddenly feeling. At first, Dean was frozen; he couldn't think about anything other then the water that had just come out of Emma. When Emma saw the look of shock on Dean's face, she knew she needed to take charge. "Dean, I need your help!" She snapped. "I need to lay somewhere comfortable."
Coming out of his stupor and moving quickly to Emma's side, Dean led her over to a tree so that she could lean against something as she sat and slipped off the small skirt-like garment that he had made from the jaguar pelt. Dean gathered some large leaves and some other soft material. To say that Dean was unprepared to help Emma was an understatement. Sure he knew what was entailed; they had both gone through the health course their school required, but reality is never perfect.
For two hours Dean waited by Emma and held her hand as she gave birth to their son. Every time she squeezed his hand, Dean thought Emma was going to break it. Every time Emma screamed in pain, Den wanted to kill himself. Dean had never been so scared in his life for those two hours.
It was Dean who finally pulled the child from her loins; with arms covered in bodily fluids, Dean cut the umbilical cord with a clam shell. As Dean held his son in his large callused hands, he cleaned the blood and birth fluids from the tiny body. Surprised at the blue coloring, small size and the sudden screams that erupted, Dean gently laid the child in Emma's waiting arms.
"Emma, this is our son." Dean said as he sat down next to her and held her in his arms. Kissing her, he asked, "What are we going to name him?"
"I always liked the name Ezekiel."
"Why is that?"
"I was once told that it meant strength, and from the sound of those lungs," she paused, "he has all the strength he will need." Looking up into Dean's eyes, she knew that he thought it was the perfect name.