A/N: Shout out again to QuinnAbrams for writing the fun waiting room antics before the line!
Artie
Will you stop pacing like that?" Kitty asked Artie, who pulled sharply on his wheels to change direction before promptly heading off the other way. "You're making me anxious."
Artie sighed as he coasted himself to a stop next to where Kitty was sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, flipping through the pages of one of a random outdated magazine she had found on the table.
Artie hated hospitals, and with good reason. Nearly every time he'd been in one, it coincided with the arrival of fear, pain, the icky nauseous feeling he always got after waking up from anesthesia, and lots of dreadful therapy appointments for him.
But now, he was feeling nauseous for an entirely different reason. In a strange way, it felt easier to be in the building when Artie knew that he was the one going under the knife. But this time, it was Amy wearing the thin hospital gown, not him. And even though he tried to tell himself a thousand times that childbirth isn't surgery and that bringing babies into the world was supposed to be a joyous occasion, Artie still knew that plenty of things could go wrong.
It all made him nervous.
His mom had arrived shortly after they had left the delivery room last and had opted to stay with Amy throughout the birthing process. The Evans family — minus Stevie — was sitting with them now, but Artie's father had hit some Friday afternoon traffic on his way from Akron. Stacey kneeled on the floor at Kitty's feet, using the crayons she had brought along to color a picture she claimed was for "her" baby.
"How long have we been out here?" Artie asked, clearly showing signs of intense boredom. He was drumming his fingers on his upper thigh now, a habit he'd developed post-accident that he used in place of tapping his foot on the ground. He couldn't feel the beat he was thumping, but it seemed to help him pass the time anyways.
Kitty rolled her eyes before checking her phone, and Artie didn't like the smirk that appeared across her face as she silently read the numbers on the screen.
"Forty-five minutes," she giggled as Artie groaned, throwing his head back in desperation.
"Stop being dramatic," Kitty laughed as she rolled up the magazine she was holding and hit Artie's knee with it. "Now you know how your family and I felt when we were sitting out here in these uncomfortable chairs while you were getting your spine fused together for seven hours."
"Touché," Artie replied with a sigh. The thought of waiting here for seven hours without a clue of what was going on in the delivery room made him itch. He didn't even want to imagine waiting that long in his current nervous state.
"I've never been the one in the waiting room before," Artie admitted after a moment, wringing his hands nervously in his lap and causing Kitty to set the magazine down once and for all and turn her attention towards her boyfriend.
"But I think you're right, about how it does feel like we've waiting here all day because we're so anxious," Kitty commented, as she stood up and patted Artie's shoulder. "Let's go for a walk. Wanna get some ice cream?"
"Kitty Wilde, you are the woman of my dreams," Artie said as he looked up and gave Kitty a loving look which made her laugh and roll her eyes again before she leaned down to kiss him. He loved that she knew he was always down for a sweet treat. "Hey, Stace, wanna come with?"
The little blonde girl eagerly nodded, hopping up and informing her parents of their plans before positioning herself behind Artie's chair, taking hold of the handles. Since he was technically still recovering and she wasn't able to ride in his lap, Stacey had decided that the next best thing was to push Artie everywhere. Artie, who normally hated being pushed around like he was in a stroller, had found her helpfulness endearing and had avoided switching back to his "space chair" for that reason in particular.
Artie, Kitty, and Stacey headed towards the cafeteria where there was a soft-serve ice cream machine that you operated yourself. Since the lever was just out of reach for both Artie and Stacey, Kitty made cones for all three of them (vanilla for herself, chocolate for Artie, and swirl for Stacey). The kids found a spot at one of the cafeteria's accessible tables to enjoy their treat, and in between licks of his ice cream, Artie kept checking the notifications on his phone.
"I'm sure you will get a phone call or text from Sam just as soon as there's any news," Kitty assured her worried boyfriend, reaching out from across the table to touch his hand.
"I know, I know," Artie grumbled, slipping his phone back in his pocket and going off on one of his word vomit tangents. "I was doing some googling last night and found out that one lady in Poland was in labor for seventy-five days."
Kitty and Stacey winced at this overshare of information.
"Is that how long it's gonna be for Amy?!" Stacey's eyes grew wide.
"No," Kitty assured the younger girl before directing a pointed glance in Artie's direction. "Aren't you the guy who always says that we're better off not googling stuff?!"
Artie stuck his tongue out at Kitty before biting down on what was left of his ice cream cone.
"I'm not exactly ready to return to the waiting room just yet," Artie said after the girls had finished their treats too. "Wanna go check out the babies in the nursery?"
Kitty and Stacey nodded eagerly as the threesome began heading in the direction of the maternity ward.
When they arrived, Artie was grateful for the way that most women opted to use wheelchairs in the hours after giving birth, because that meant that the observation window was at his perfect height.
"So they're gonna bring Sammy and Amy's baby here after he's born?" Stacey asked, looking out into the sea of babies wrapped in pink or blue blankets and hats.
"Yup," Artie answered. "Isn't it weird to think that all of these babies were born here in the last few days?"
As Artie observed the babies one by one, his baby fever began to spike. He had always known that he wanted to be a dad someday, and with all of the baby talk over the last few months, having his own family had been weighing heavily on his mind. Though he hadn't been supportive of Amy and Sam's relationship at first, it began to grow on him once he saw the way that they looked at one another.
He looked up at Kitty, his heart soaring as he silently watched the way she interacted with Stacey as they admired the babies, and he finally understood it now.
What true love felt like.
As the minutes turned to hours, Artie was keeping his mind occupied with trying to remember every single song they performed in glee club, including random performances in the choir room, assemblies and competitions. He started making a list on a notepad that Sam's mom had in her purse and gave to him. He'd started this to pass the rest of the time and was starting on senior year when his mother finally opened those double doors around 10:30 and stepped out into the waiting room.
Kitty jumped to her feet. "Is the baby here?"
"No, but she's finally made it to 10 centimeters and is about to start pushing," Nancy said, wringing her hands and looking every bit as anxious as Artie still felt now. "I said I would step out and share that bit of news. Hopefully not much longer. Amy's made it her goal to deliver before midnight, so Stacey doesn't have to share her birthday. So, we'll see..."
"Oh, but Stacey wants to share her birthday," Mary said, speaking for Stacey, who had now fallen asleep with her head in her mother's lap.
"I tried to tell Amy it's not a bad thing," Nancy said. "I've shared my birthday with my twin sister, Karen, for my entire life. Anyway..." she looked around the room. "I should get back. Artie? You okay?"
Artie must have been wearing some kind of funny expression, and his mother was privy to all of them. "No, not really," he admitted. "Just tell Amy I love her. Also, tell her my latest guess is Frank."
His mother, who was not in on the joke, looked pretty puzzled by that. But Artie was pretty sure she'd relay the message, and maybe it would make Amy laugh in spite of the pain.
"Since Stacey's not using her coloring book..." Artie gestured for her to hand it over, and Kitty smirked and tore out her own Bratz dolls picture to color first before passing the rest of the book to Artie.
"Hm, she's cute," Artie commented, looking at the picture and thinking he might always remember that he passed the time while his sister was in the worst pain of his life, coloring a picture of a Bratz doll. Whatever that was.
But before he knew it, an hour and a half had passed, he and Kitty had nearly colored the entire book, and there was still no news. Artie stopped coloring and stared at those double doors that led to the Labor and Delivery wing.
It was nearly midnight now, so evidently, she'd been pushing for awhile. He couldn't really handle the anxiety of staring at those doors for much longer. Finally, Artie began to push himself aimlessly down the hall, just to get out of the tense room. He hummed 'Dancing With Myself' and made up some hallway choreography as he went.
"You're still not supposed to expend that much extra energy," called a voice behind him. Kitty's voice. He spun around to look at her. "Nice moves anyway."
"I'm really glad you're here," he said, ignoring the comment she'd made about what he was and wasn't supposed to do. "Especially when we were waiting for Sam by the car earlier today. I've never seen her in pain like that before. It did something to me."
"Now you know how the rest of us felt, watching you recover," Kitty said, softly, falling into step beside him as they continued to wander the corridors.
Artie mulled over that one for a moment.
"I can't believe she's actually doing this without drugs," he scoffed. "Drugs are there for a reason."
"I dunno, I'd probably try it without drugs, too," Kitty said, shrugging.
"Really?" Artie shook his head, which made her laugh.
"Well, do I have to decide right now?"
"No," he said, shaking his head firmly. "No, you definitely do not." He sighed. "Let's get back there, in case we miss something. Maybe we should wake Stacey up and sing 'Happy Birthday' to her. It's almost midnight."
"She doesn't even care about her birthday," Kitty commented, falling into step beside his chair. "She just told me to wake her up when the baby gets here. We should let her sleep, because if I wake her up without any news, she'll be super disappointed."
They returned to the waiting room which was just as they'd left it, with Stacey still sleeping with her head in her mother's lap. Mary was holding hands with her husband and just staring out the window. She'd been trying to read a book, but she kept putting it aside to stare ahead, in deep thought. The two soon-to-be grandfathers had been having a conversation before, but now they both had fallen silent, too. The only sound was that of the small TV in the corner near the ceiling.
Midnight came and went, plus thirty more minutes, before Mary finally looked up from the book she wasn't reading and commented. "Well, this is the first baby. Sam's labor was my longest and hardest by far. The other two were fast and much easier, by comparison. Stevie was nearly born on the side of the road. We barely made it to the hospital."
"My mom said I was born pretty quickly too," Kitty chimed in, much to Artie's surprise. He hadn't ever heard her casually bring up her mom in conversation like that. "She'd already had twins and my other brother, so by then, she was a seasoned pro. And she finally got a girl."
Mary opened her mouth to comment on that, but Artie watched her eyes land on the door behind him. He turned to see it open, long enough to reveal Sam, who was red in the face as he skidded on his heels, as though he'd been crying.
"He's here!" Sam announced, completely out of breath. "I gotta go. She needs me. Uh, to-to be continued!"
"Wh-what?" Stacey woke up to the sound of everyone celebrating and hugging and crying. Artie noticed her rubbing her eyes and looking at them, so he made a beeline for her, wheeling his way to where she sat.
"The baby's here, Stace," he told her, as her eyes grew wide and she reached out to hug him. "Born on your birthday. It's after midnight. Happy Birthday, Stacey."
"This is the best present ever," Stacey proclaimed, as she burst into tears.
Artie didn't get to be first to go back and see the baby. That honor went to Sam's family, mostly because they were going to leave and take Stacey on home right after meeting the baby. He found it a tad easier to be patient, though, now that he knew the baby had finally arrived.
After about twenty minutes, they returned and Stacey was positively beaming. "He's so cute," she said, and Artie had to hand it to her. She'd probably been instructed not to tell Artie what his name was, because Amy and Sam wanted to do that. "Best birthday present ever."
They hugged Stacey and wished her happy birthday one more time. Then Artie looked at his dad and Kitty. "Our turn," he said. Finally.
Amy was propped up in bed, her hospital gown pulled down a bit, possibly because she'd just done that skin to skin thing after birth that Artie had heard her talking about before. Nothing was exposed but it wasn't like his super modest sister at all. (He, on the other hand, never got the luxury of being modest, but whatever.) She looked tired but happy. Very happy. And sitting in the chair, holding a small bundle protectively, was Sam.
Artie's first instinct was not to check out the baby, even though he'd been dying to meet him. His first instinct was to check on the patient. He wheeled towards his sister's bedside and gave her a small smile, as she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You okay?" Artie wanted to know.
"I'll just say this," Amy said, as Artie noticed that she was struggling just to keep her eyes open. "Next time, I would get the drugs. All the drugs."
"That makes two of us," Sam added, looking up from his son momentarily to exchange a private smile with Amy.
"Artie, come see him," called Kitty, as she and Artie's parents all huddled around Sam to stare at the baby. Artie took hold of his wheels and joined them to take a look.
Artie never really thought that it was possibly to tell, with newborns, which parent they resembled. Mostly, they all looked the same. Except not this baby. It couldn't have been more obvious that he shared Sam's most prominent feature: his trouty mouth.
Not that Artie would dare to say that in the presence of his sister.
"Eight pounds, eleven ounces, 21 inches long," Nancy added, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked at her daughter, who looked equally stunned that she'd delivered an almost nine-pound baby as a first time mother. And without drugs.
"So, the question we all need answered," Artie urged, as Sam unexpectedly tried to pass the newborn to him. "Uh, h-hold on. I've been grabbing my wheels and I haven't washed my hands."
"Can I hold him?" Kitty begged. "I washed my hands right before I came in."
"Sure," Sam said, as he passed the baby to Kitty, as Artie wheeled over to the sink in the room that was thankfully designed to be accessible to a person in a wheelchair, if needed.
"So, the name?" Artie finished, after he'd dried his hands. He didn't want to touch his wheels again, if he could help it, but his mother guessed as much and was already wheeling him across the room.
"Well, your last guess was correct," Amy said, with a yawn. "It's Frank."
"Okay," Sam got to his feet. "Can I just tell them?" And after Amy nodded to give the okay, he turned back to address the rest of them. "It's August James Evans. Auggie, for short."
Artie could sense that everyone was looking to him for a reaction, given all the banter and teasing between he and his sister, ever since they'd announced that it was a boy.
"So, after all that..." Artie began, lifting an eyebrow. "You just named him after the month he was born in?"
Amy laughed lightly. "Correct," she said. "If he'd been born too much later, we would have had to pick something else. And James," she nodded to Sam. "- for his middle name. But mostly, I like Auggie because it sounds like... well, it sounds like Artie."
Artie was torn between being touched by the gesture and mildly horrified for this baby's sake, once he reached middle school.
And, at that moment, Kitty passed little Auggie over to his uncle. There were moments that Artie knew he wouldn't forget in life. Like the last time he ever played soccer in the backyard with his sister. Or the first time he kissed a girl (even if she later just ended up being his best friend). And this moment, holding his nephew, was one of those.
But sorry about your weird name, kid, he thought, smiling as the baby gripped his pinky with his strong little fist that had gotten loose. If you want me to, I'll call you A.J.