Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.
To the sound of rain pattering on the window, Madeline Magellan groaned as she heaved her heavily pregnant form up in the bed. Legs thrown over the side, she paused a moment to gather her breath.
Everything hurt.
Pressing a hand at her back, she tilted her head to find her husband looking at her with great amusement. "Why can't men be pregnant? Carry the child?" she muttered. "Equal share of the labour and all."
Jonathan leaned over to peck her on the nose. "Probably because whoever created knew we couldn't handle it."
Maddy scrunched up her nose but allowed herself to be tugged upright by her accommodating husband. Feeling slightly better about herself, she braced her hands at her back and stretched her muscles. The extra weight she was carrying was throwing her balance off-kilter.
Moving toward the bathroom, intent on a shower, she missed the way that Jonathan was looking at her.
Standing at the washbasin not long after, she wiped her hand across the fogged up mirror. Looking at her reflection, she groaned at what she found there. "I'm hideous."
Her husband appeared in the reflection too, a towel around his waist. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone. "I'd be inclined to agree."
She snorted as she threw a punch back at him. He winced at the force and her accuracy as he backed away. Smirking, she reached for her toothbrush. Her hand froze in midair when she felt a pain ripple across her abdomen. "Ah, Jonathan?" she said uncertainly.
"I'm not coming back in there to be your punching bag," came the reply.
Looking down, she wondered if there might be a leak, for water was suddenly at her feet. Looking at the liquid somewhat dumbly, it occurred to her intelligent mind that she was in fact in the beginning stages of labour.
"Jonathan!" she screeched.
She heard him come running. One hand braced on the basin, the other on her distended belly, her frantic eyes met his when he stepped into the room.
He surveyed all before him. "Oh."
Maddy whimpered. She didn't care if she was going against every feminist ideal she held dear that said she could do this on her own. She was in pain, godamnit, and if she wanted her husband, she was going to have him.
Jonathan grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her toward him. Her hand gripped his shirt two seconds later as she tensed. "Ow."
"Right," said Jonathan with more confidence than he felt. "Looks like you're in labour."
"No shit Sherlock."
Gingerly making their way down the stairs, Maddy cursing their very existence with each step, they made it to the front door.
Leaving his wife there momentarily to retrieve jackets, wallets and keys, Jonathan opened the door. Shutting it again, he faced his panting wife, her fingers gripping the couch cushions. "What?" she demanded to know.
"It's raining."
"Well get an umbrella," she retorted.
"It's raining too much."
"What are you trying to tell me?" she keened, rocking her body backwards and forwards. Recovering, she eyed her husband, who had taken two steps forward and then stopped. "Jonathan?"
"We can't drive on the roads," he said carefully. "They've flooded."
The reality of the situation sunk in. "No," said Maddy in horror. "This is not happening." She looked around frantically. "Call an ambulance, a helicopter, the whole bloody cavalry. I don't care – just get me to a hospital."
She was still ranting when Jonathan approached her. He didn't say a word as he clasped her neck and covered her clenched hand. She was glad for his close proximity, for the next pain was the worst yet.
When it passed, she rested her head on his chest. "I don't want to give birth here," Maddy whimpered.
"I don't think we have a choice," replied Jonathan, pressing a kiss to her crown. "We're going to have to make do."
The next four hours were the worst four hours of his life. Swearing and cursing in turn, Maddy did not handle pain well.
As they entered the home stretch, the storm raging outside, Jonathan sat between his wife's legs. Looking up at the naked form of his exhausted woman, he urged her to push.
Maddy groaned. "I can't."
"You can," he coached. "Not much longer now."
"That's easy for you to say..." she yelled, her last word giving way to a scream of pain.
"I can see the head," coaxed Jonathan.
"And I can bloody feel it."
The next five contractions followed each other rapidly and with tears streaming down her face, Madeline Creek braced her body and pushed with a god almighty scream.
Jonathan had tears of his own running down his face as a little body slipped into his hands. Looking down at the red, dirty bundle in his arms, he didn't think he'd seen anything more beautiful in his life...
"Is the baby okay?" panted Maddy.
...even when she opened her mouth with a cry that rivalled that of her mother's. A wide grin on his face, he held up their baby girl. "She's absolutely fine."
Cutting the umbilical cord, he placed the baby on his wife's strangely flat belly. Dealing with the afterbirth, Jonathan looked up to find their baby girl subconsciously rooting at her mother's breast. He watched in awe as Maddy guided their daughter to feed.
As their child nursed, he found himself with tears in his eyes all over again as he met her equally wet ones. Taking a seat before her on the rumpled bed, their lips met in a short joyful kiss.
"We did it."
It was another hour before he sat down again on the now clean bed. Easing the tiny form of his clean, clothed daughter into his arms, Maddy rested her head on his shoulder.
Their moment was interrupted when a ray of sunlight cut across the floor. Maddy smirked as light filled the room. "Now the sun comes out." Her complaint was ruined by a yawn.
Unable to take his eyes off the little being in his arms that he had somehow helped create, Jonathan found that adrenaline was still coursing through his bloodstream. The two most important females in his life sleeping close by, he wondered if there wasn't a degree of magic.
Finito.