~7~Expect the Unexpected~7~

Second to last chapter. Hopefully you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed running with this particular chapter! I don't own any of the familiar stuff :) Thanks for reading!

-~7~-

RECAP

Only when he went to strike the match did Carter realize something was very wrong.

RECAP OVER

The adrenaline pumping through Carter's veins had masked the fact that one of the bullets that the patrol had fired was lodged in his left shoulder. Although, as soon as the match flashed to light and he lit the gas lantern hanging from one of the stalls, he could see the darker stain down the arm of his black Gestapo uniform jacket.

Newkirk called the issue to attention before Carter's brain could even start to realize what that stain meant. "Carter, you've been shot!" Was all Newkirk could get to come out of his mouth.

"Sure does look like it," Carter mumbled and moved his arm to test it. He groaned and cradled the affected limb. "Shoot! That hurt!" The American hissed looking at Newkirk with wide eyes his heart pounding.

"I bloody well expect it would," Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Get over here you bloody idiot!" He beckoned Carter over.

Carter obediently walked the short distance to where Newkirk was standing. The flickering lantern was casting eerie shadows all around them. Newkirk helped him out of the bloody black jacket. Both of them looked quite a sight. Newkirk had lost his bonnet somewhere in the woods and his wig and glasses were quite ascue. Not to mention he was quite dusty. Carter failed to stifle a chuckle at the sight.

"What's so bloody funny?" Newkirk grumbled poking Carter's shoulder to shut him up.

"Ow! Watch it!" Carter hissed almost jumping out of his boots.

After a little further inspection Newkirk shook his head. "Bullet's still in there mate,"

Carter's eyes went wide, "Well you've got to get it out then!"

"Me? You must be off your bloody rocker!" Newkirk protested emphatically.

"I've got a pocket knife, you got to get it out, please!" Carter was begging, at this point the panic Carter felt was shining in his eyes. He didn't want a bullet in side of him!

"Carter, I'll do more harm than good, and what about infection? You wanna lose your arm?"

Carter shook his head taking a few calming deep breaths. He let out a long sigh. "No," He whispered looking down at the dirt floor that was strewn with hay where they were standing.

"You're always so dramatic Andrew, let's wait for the wind to die down then we'll get you back to camp and Wilson'll take care of it." He patted Carter's good shoulder reassuringly.

"Yeah, yeah," Carter took a few more deep breaths. His arm was really starting to hurt.

Suddenly, a loud piercing wail was heard over the silence of the night. Carter's heart started to race faster than it had running through the woods. He knew that sound.

"What was that?" Newkirk asked startled, eyes wide.

"She needs help," Was all Carter could spit out before heading to the door, his arm and Newkirk forgotten.

"No! Carter, wait! It's probably just the farmer and his wife having sex!" Newkirk trailed after Carter, but Carter didn't hear a word of what Newkirk had said. The cry came louder and Carter took off at a sprint out of the barn. Newkirk groaned but took out after the Little Deer Who Ran Swift and Sure Into Trouble barely taking the time to note that the wind had stopped and the dust had settled.

Carter swung open the already unlocked door and Newkirk groaned to himself sure that Carter was going to be walking in on a husband and wife in the midst of a passionate embrace. The Britt was still holding Carter's bloody jacket as they trekked further into the house following the sound of a woman screaming.

Newkirk was sure Carter had gone crazy! The idiot had a bleeding bullet lodged in his shoulder and was still losing blood because he'd run off before Newkirk could do anything. Bloody idiot. As he watched Carter burst through what had to be a bedroom door, the sound of the ammo dump blowing up could be heard, as could the subsequent blasts caused by the chain reaction. Newkirk couldn't help but smirk, one job well done. Now, this on the other hand was a bloody disaster.

Newkirk was shocked though to find not what he'd expected once he entered the bedroom. On the bed was a pale blond haired girl who couldn't be any older than 17 drenched in sweat and quite obviously in labor. What shocked him even more was Carter holding her hand and speaking to her in a hushed whisper.

Turning to Newkirk with a bit of a wild look in his eyes, Carter took a deep breath and rolling up his sleeves, oblivious to his bad shoulder or fighting through the pain, one or the other Newkirk wasn't sure, and ordered him in German to go fetch cool rags.

The girl began to puff breath per Carter's instructions, and he continued to ask her a few questions about her labor pains and the likes. He wanted to physically examine her, but he wanted to wait for Newkirk to be out of the way first. He didn't need someone breathing over his shoulder.

When Newkirk came back with them, he was quickly sent away again to find towels, yarn, scissors, and a pan but not to come back until he heard the baby's cry and to also warm some water on the stove.

Newkirk opened his mouth to protest but another cry of pain from the young woman startled him and he decided he didn't want to be this close to the action, so he left.

Carter quickly moved so he could examine her to see how much time they had and what was going on. He paled at what he saw. He looked up at her and for a few seconds the words he needed couldn't come to him in German. They swirled around in his head rapid fire in Sioux and even an English word here or there, but German was a no go. Suddenly, he heard a pan crash in the kitchen and if by some miracle that jogged his memory and he could suddenly remember what he needed to say.

He grounded himself taking a deep breath and calmly without wasting any more of the valuable time he had left helped the girl get into a position that elevated her pelvis. He scanned the room looking for anything that would help just a little more. Spotting a small stepping stool, he hurried and grabbed it before tossing off his gloves and helping her, though it was super uncomfortable, into a position taking the pressure off of the protruding umbilical cord. Once Carter managed to slip the cord back in, he let out a shaky breath.

This could be worse, this could be worse, this could be worse, was the mantra that Carter's brain kept supplying as he helped the young woman back into a position more conducive to delivering a baby. Hopefully that cord wouldn't come popping back out on them, because he'd seen that happen before. By no small miracle, the rest of the delivery went as smoothly as one could go.

The newborn looked more blue than pink which initially scared the shit out of Carter, but the baby was moving, and once the mucus was cleared from his airway, the baby's loud cries rang through the room. Newkirk chose the moment that Carter was helping the new mother to latch her baby onto her breast to come back into the room. His arms were laden with towels and the pan, yarn, and scissors.

The Britt stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the room, it suddenly hit him what had just transpired over the last 30 minutes. Newkirk had been so jumpy and had cursed himself several times a minute for forgetting his cigarettes, but he hadn't actually processed anything more than screams. He looked like he'd been the one who birthed the baby. His wig was even more ascue than it had been after the run through the woods and his glasses were severely lopsided. Newkirk suddenly realized something else, this was probably not the first child Carter had delivered. Newkirk didn't know what shocked him more, the fact that Carter knew how to deliver babies or that they had never known that about the young Yank.

Carter looked over at his friend and fought hard to suppress his laughter and in the end it was for nought as he let out a chuckle. That caused the girl to start giggling at Newkirk.

The laughter made Newkirk roll his eyes. Carter had no room to talk, he looked like someone who'd just come out of a messy fight where you didn't want to see what the other guy looked like. His white shirt was covered in blood and other body fluids, his tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, and wait, he wasn't wearing his gloves! Carter was also practically as sweaty as the new mother.

Newkirk was snapped out of his funk when Carter asked for the scissors and the yarn, to which he fumbled like an insane person to get it out of the pan. He snorted when he heard Carter whisper something to the girl about his mother being a little out of it upstairs, to which the girl smiled sympathetically.

Carter had barely resituated the infant recovering both mother and child, with the extra quilt he'd found earlier, after cutting the cord before the girl made a scrunched up face and then looked at Carter with wide eyes. "Was ist es jetzt?" (What is it now?)

"Shh, liebchen, es ist nur die Nachgeburt," (It is only the afterbirth) Carter soothed the girl before grabbing the pan out of Newkirk's hands and proceed to deliver the placenta to which Newkirk had to step out of the room once he realized what was going on because he'd begun to feel queasy.

Carter stepped out of the room a few minutes later to have a whispered conversation with Newkirk in English.

"She said her husband was supposed to come back with the Doctor," Carter hissed leading Newkirk into the kitchen still holding the pan with placenta. Newkirk tried to ignore it but was failing pretty miserably.

"So do we wait for them to get back?" Newkirk asked turning his head to the floor as Carter began to inspect the content of his pan. He was going to puke, he could feel it.

Luckily he didn't because Carter stopped almost as quickly had started, it looked like it was almost instinct. "I think that'd be best, I'd like to talk to whatever doctor comes. By the way, how long ago did you warm the water?" Carter raised an eyebrow testing the water in the pot that was still on the stove and making a pleased face he poured some into a smaller pot that was sitting on the counter. Unfortunately, half as much that wound up in the pot got all over Carter. Luckily it was just warm, not scalding hot.

Newkirk huffed indignantly deciding not to dignify Carter with a response. He rolled his eyes at how contradictory Carter was. He was competent enough to obviously deliver a baby and talk like a sane person, but he was still the clumsiest person Newkirk had ever met. It was bloody annoying.

"Anyway, I'm going to clean her up," Carter said after mopping up his water mess off the floor with a towel that was lying on the counter. He set off with his pot and a few rags that he snagged from a folded pile on the table.

Not for the first time, Newkirk felt as if he'd been left in the dust that night. He quickly trailed off after Carter. They hadn't decided on anything! They were late getting back, people were worrying about them. Carter was shot, and the bloody fool was going to give someone a sponge bath.

But Newkirk bit his tongue from bringing any of that up as he watched as Carter gingerly washed the woman, not just where Newkirk thought would be necessary, but her entire body maintaining her privacy every step of the way. Newkirk couldn't fail to notice that Carter was favoring his arm that had taken a bullet earlier in the night and that the younger man's stoic features hid any other signs of discomfort. Where had this Carter come from?

After the new mother and the infant were cleaned, Carter asked the woman where she kept her linens, and retrieving a new set from the wooden chest in the corner, he changed out the soiled sheets with new mother cradling her infant still in the bed. He hadn't looked over at Newkirk for help which was for the best, because the Britt had no idea how to do that. Once Carter had them tucked in nice and comfortable, he whispered some instructions to the girl that made both of their faces flushed.

Newkirk's eyes went wide as he heard the front door open and two rushed male voices carry through the house. Newkirk subconsciously straightened his wig, which he found it desperately needed to be. He recognised the first man who hurried into the bedroom to be the doctor who was a part of the local resistance.

The doctor's eyes widened slightly as he recognized two of Papa Bear's men through their disguises. They widened even more when he realized that his patient had already delivered her baby!

"Wer bist du?" (Who are you?) The second man, who Newkirk assumed was the husband and father demanded. Newkirk recognised the man also as a local farmer who supplied the camp with food on occasion. All the Heroes knew about this particular farmer was that he had been severely wounded in North Africa a year ago and the doctors thought he was going to die, so they discharged him honorably and sent him home to die, but he had survived against all odds. The man seemed to suddenly realize that one of the strange men was Gestapo and saluted Carter who returned it but very casually and practically waved him off.

"Entschuldigung für unser Eindringen," (Apologies for our intrusion,) Carter nodded to the man. Carter then introduced Newkirk as his mother and explained briefly that they had taken shelter from the dust storm in the man's barn, heard cries of pain, and decided to come check what was wrong. Once he finished his short tale regarding the delivery of the infant, Carter shot the doctor a look that signaled that he needed to talk to him outside.

"Danke, Herr. Ich schulde Ihnen," (Thank you sir. I owe you,) The new father bowed his head.

"Unsinn, ich bin einfach nur froh, dass ich helfen könnte," (Nonsense, I'm just glad I could help,) Carter smiled at the new father. "Herzlichen Glückwunsch zu Ihrem neuen Sohn," (Congratulations to your new son,) He added with a nod of his head.

"Danke!" The man was now beaming, there was nothing like new life to break down walls that kept many a man stoic.

Carter motioned for his 'mother' and the doctor to follow him out of the room. The doctor followed the two other men to the kitchen where Carter heaved a massive sigh. "They are so lucky we got stranded here," He whispered eyes wider than Newkirk had ever seen them.

"What do you mean?" The doctor's face furrowed.

"She had a prolapsed cord," Carter shook his head. "If she'd delivered with no one here…" A shudder wracked the American's body. His face started to look panicked as if the severity of the situation had just dawned on him.

"The infant survived?" The doctor asked not being able to keep the shock out of his voice, even though he could have sworn he'd heard baby noises in the bedroom.

"Yeah, he was a little blue, but pinked up real fast. There's nothing else really to note though, latched on super fast and everything." Carter shrugged his shoulders wincing at the motion.

The doctor shook his head. "You've done this before?" It was a pretty stupid question in retrospect.

"Yeah, a time or two," Carter shrugged and winced again while grumbling to himself about being so stupid.

Newkirk snorted. "You think someone smart enough to deliver a baby could remember there's a bloody bullet in his shoulder," The Britt muttered before he excused himself from the kitchen.

Carter's eyes widened, "Where are you going?" He asked Newkirk desperate.

"I'm going to grab all your stuff you left lying around in there while you get your shoulder taken care of. I've seen enough blood for one night," The Englishman shuddered.

The doctor had them quickly on their way shaking his head. Prolapsed cords were not something to just shrug off. He's lost 5 infants since the start of the war to that particular complication. Granted he wasn't specialized in delivering babies, that had been his partner who'd disappeared almost a decade ago. Dr. Goldburg had been one of the best doctors he'd ever had the pleasure of working with. It was that reason he'd decided he didn't agree with the powers at be. He was going to have to talk with Colonel Hogan about maybe picking his man's brain as to how he'd so effectively handled the emergency. The doctor went back into the bedroom to assess his two patients.

Newkirk and Carter trekked back to camp, their journey made much easier without a swirling dust storm interfering. As they passed the rendezvous point, they noticed that two men were lurking. Carter could tell from their stature that one of them was actually a woman, so he glanced at Newkirk who nodded at him. The pair approached the other two. They then noticed there was a third person, but the third individual was very unconscious.

"Crickets always sing loudest when Saturn and Uranus are aligned," Carter gave the code that they were supposed to have given the underground hours ago.

"No one understands why moss hates the heat," The woman responded with a slight roll of her eyes. "Your London needs better codes." She huffed.

"Tell me about it, and it's his London, not mine," Carter smiled at the woman who he recognised as Snow White.

Snow White snorted "Take him. Please!" She gestured at the man on the ground.

"How long were you waiting?" Newkirk asked her shocked that they had waited at all when no one was at the contact point.

"We thought you left already. We just got here, so many patrols," she shook her head.

"Bloody hell." Newkirk glanced at his watch. "We are over two hours late."

"You try maneuvering a delirious fool." Snow White grunted. "Gruber knocked him completely out 20 minutes ago. You should go before he decides to wake again." The light brown haired woman urged them.

"Things didn't go the way we expected them to, but it seems like it all worked out," Carter murmured to Newkirk 20 minutes later as they were rigging up a way to get a still unconscious Colonel Crittendan down the tunnel entrance. The tunnels were completely empty which was odd. They only had three arms betwixt them and that was making things challenging.

A serious amount of creativity later, they had the British Colonel tucked into one of the bunks reserved for flyers on their way back to London.

"He doesn't look like he's in that bad of shape," Carter whispered to Newkirk who nodded his head solemnly.

"One of us needs to watch him, so he doesn't wake up and destroys the whole bloody place," Newkirk glanced at the sleeping form.

"I'll go change, and once I'm done, you can change and go get the Colonel," Carter suggested.

"I'm in a bloody girdle, I get to change first!" Newkirk huffed indignantly.

"I am bloody." Carter gave Newkirk a pleading puppy dog look.

Newkirk groaned. "Ok, go bloody change," He gave up pretty easily. "But who'd damn fault is it that you are that messy?" Newkirt tossed his wig to Carter.

Carter just smiled shaking his head accidentally dropping the wig after having successfully caught it.

Newkirk would have laughed if it had been any other day. But he was so bloody tired. It was all starting to hit him like a ton of bricks.

Carter came back with his cheeks a bit flushed not two minutes later. "With the way doc wrapped my arm, I can't undo all my buttons,"

"Oh bloody hell!" Newkirk groaned propelling himself off of the wall with most of his remaining energy.

"Go get the rest of your uniform, and I'll help you, bleeding idiot," The Englishman shook his head.

"Hey! I'm sorry," Carter snapped. "I can't help it that someone shot me!"

"I'm just teasing you Andrew," Newkirk sighed heavily.

"Sorry Newkirk," Carter visibly deflated.

"It's been a bloody night from hell, go get your stuff," Newkirk prompted the American Sergeant.

Once both men had changed, Newkirk went up to fetch someone, the Colonel wasn't allowed down into the tunnel, so he figured he'd be retrieving Kinch.

He was greeted by a frantic group of men all getting ready for roll call. He looked at his watch. "Oh bloody hell, " Was all Newkirk could get out before he was surrounded by men bombarding him with questions.

"Where's Carter?" Kinch asked above all the racket.

"Down watching Colonel walking disaster," Newkirk grumbled.

"You got him?" The second in command looked thoroughly pleased and equally shocked.

"Yeah, me and Andrew had a bit of a detour, and the underground kept running into patrols," Newkirk over simplified the situation for time sake.

"LeBeau, go down and get Carter, hopefully Crittenden doesn't destroy the place before roll call is over," Kinch shook his head.

"It's like having a bloody infant," Newkirk grumbled causing the other men to laugh.

After roll call, Carter, Kinch , LeBeau, and Newkirk made their way for the tunnel, but Colonel Hogan stopped them dead in their tracks.

"Carter, Newkirk, my office," He pointed one of his crutches that he'd used to assist him to attend roll call that morning at the door leading to said office.

The two men exchanged a look between each other but obediently trailed into Colonel Hogan's quarters.

"Which one of you is going to explain why you were back so late?" Hogan asked as soon as the door shut behind them, his voice calm and even.

"Would you believe that Carter delivered a bleeding baby?" Newkirk responded getting a dirty look from Carter.

"What?" Colonel Hogan snorted having half a mind to laugh.

"Well, that's the main reason we were late sir," Was Carter's response.

"No, there's a whole bloody list Carter," Newkirk smirked slightly.

"Me getting shot wasn't my fault!" Carter went to cross his arms defensively, but winced loudly at the action and decided against it.

"Shot?" Colonel Hogan's eyes went wide.

"Gestapo patrol shot at us at the rendezvous point, and so we ran. We thought we were headed to camp, but because we were avoiding the main paths, and the dust was becoming an issue, we wound up on a farm and the dust storm was just getting worse,"

"Who was leading the way? That's why we bloody got lost!" Newkirk interjected.

"Anyway," Carter sighed not wanting to get in a fight with Newkirk "we took cover in the barn, and that's when we realized I'd taken a bullet. Before-"

"The bleeding idiot wanted me to take it out!" Newkirk cut in again.

"I was scared, sorry!" Carter couldn't help but get defensive at that point.

"Gentlemen, can we just continue with your report please?" Colonel Hogan interjected before the debate turned into something more ugly. This already seemed like something that coming from anyone but those two he wouldn't believe.

"Yes Sir, Colonel," Carter looked down at the floor. "So, as I was saying Colonel, Before we could regroup, I heard a woman who sounded like she was in labor, and so we went to see if she needed help, which she did,"

Newkirk snorted at the we part.

Without being interrupted verbally by Newkirk, Carter continued on. "So we delivered the baby-" He should have known his luck wouldn't hold because Newkirk cut him off yet again.

"He means he delivered the bleeding baby and sent me to the kitchen,"

"You couldn't even look at the placenta when I was making sure it was intact!" Carter's voice had risen several notches at this point.

"How did you even bloody know how to do any of that? You were like some doctor or midwife or something!" Newkirk's voice increased to a tone even louder than Carter's had been.

"My mom and grandma are midwives, and they taught me, ok?!" Carter spat out, his face red.

"You said you'd delivered one or two babies, is that true?" Newkirk was calming down only slightly, he didn't realize until then how much it bothered him that he didn't know why Carter could just go into that situation and know exactly what to do.

"I assisted in over 50 births Newkirk, and delivered over 20 myself, does that satisfy you?" Carter was still steaming, what was Newkirk's problem?

"Wait, are you serious?" Colonel Hogan couldn't help but interject.

"Yes Sir," The colonel's level headed interjection was what Carter needed to cool down a bit himself. "I started helping grandma when mom had my kid brother when I was 15, and when the war started, doctors became pretty scarce and I was in rural Indiana, so, since I had experience, I kinda was the go to guy," Carter shrugged his good shoulder.

"Why didn't you ever tell us that?" Newkirk furrowed his brow.

"It wasn't relevant until now. Can we get back to the report?" Carter snapped at Newkirk again, he needed sleep.

"Yes, please continue." Colonel Hogan prompted him they all needed sleep.

"So after the baby was born, we waited for the doctor to show up because she'd told us that her husband had gone to get him. So when he showed up, he fixed up my arm, if that didn't hurt, I don't know what would boy!" Carter's eyes got wide, "I mean sir," He trailed off for a second, "then we headed back here, when we got to the rendezvous point, the underground were waiting with Colonel Crittenden, so we brought him back, got changed, went to roll call, and now we're here," Carter finally finished his report with a sigh.

"You both are lucky they didn't decide to have any surprise bunk inspections through the night," Was all that Colonel Hogan could stay as he processed the information, it was just so far out there, not something he'd ever though he'd have to deal with.

"You can say that again!" Carter sighed heavily. "Sorry for being so late Colonel,"

"All's well that ends well Carter. You two go out and get some sleep, you had quite a night, I'll talk to you both again later," Colonel Hogan dismissed them. Yes, he'd been more than just a little worried last night and yes, he hadn't slept a wink either, and yes he had a ton of questions, but that made more sense as to why to delay any further discussion a few more hours. Everyone was safe again, and for now that was all that mattered.

Small Author's note...These days what they teach us about prolapsed cords is straight to the OR ASAP, I won't grace you with graphics of the matter, but yeah. Also, how Carter handled the emergency is based on what I saw on an episode of Call the Midwife. If you have any other concerns or questions on any of the logistics, please message me!