Disclaimer: yeah.

July 31st, 1980.

For scared mothers and fathers


James thinks he shouldn't be there.

Lily's face is crumpled with pain, sweating profusely as she leans over, groaning. Beside her is the Healer – she is focusing on Lily and on Lily alone, urging her to remain strong, to remember why she's trying so hard – as his wife groans yet again.

At first, it had been little twitches of her eyes that had betrayed her discomfort – slight shifts in her movement that suggested that no matter how hard she tried, every position was no better than the last. Then, as the second hour had rolled by, she had progressed to shallow, erratic breaths, and the first beads of sweat had appeared on her forehead, shining brightly as the lights above her illuminated the small drops of perspiration. She didn't speak much.

James hated seeing her like this – but most of all, he hated not being able to help. He hated waiting.

By the third, torturous hour, Lily had finally succumbed to moans. Sweat glided down her head, neck, and seeped down her shirt to her back. He had pulled back her hair – that was the most he seemed able to do – and watched in silence as his wife struggled to deal with herself.

Three hours turned into four, then five. The sun was beginning to set, casting red, gold and orange light through the windows, and James thinks wait.

Lily's eyes meet his and dart over to the calendar – July, July 31st - and he knows she's thinking the exact same thing.

It has been nearly three hours with no change in her dilation status, and James picks himself up and forces himself over to Lily's side. She looks up at him tiredly, covered in sweat and tears, and holds his hand. He sits down.

"I'm sorry."

He blinks, unsure of what he's heard. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't wait longer," she whispers hesitantly. "I'm sorry the baby is coming now... I tried not to -"

"Lily-"

"No, I mean it – I mean, the date was due next week – it's not even supposed to be happening yet – I'm sorry, I'm so sorry -"

Tears are growing in her eyes, her voice breaks and she looks like she's about to cry. James feels like crying too, but he reaches out over to her and envelops her in his arms, hiding his face in her neck.

"Don't hold him back," he whispers in her ear. "This – all of this – is good. Don't you dare hold him back, and don't you apologize."

Lily makes a choking sound in the back of her throat and repeats "This is good," and then yells, arching her back. James doesn't back away.

Thirty minutes from twelve – James is checking the clock like a machine – Lily's eyes widen with fear and the healer announces that she's ready to push. She looks up at him questioningly.

He answers her with a soft kiss to her temple.

She pushes.