Well, here's Cinderpelt's POV.
I heard a yowl of pain.
Firestar frantically dashed into my den. "Sandstorm's having her kits!" he yowled. "Cinderpelt, come quick!"
I gathered a big jumble of herbs and looked at the sun. It was about sunhigh. I quickly raced to the nursery, where the yowls were coming agonizingly quickly.
"Will she be all right?" Firestar asked, bouncing around as I set my supplies outside the nursery. "Is she going to die? Is she going to be like Silverstream? Cinderpelt, do you know what you're doing?"
"Quiet, Firestar!" I snapped. "I know what I'm doing. Sandstorm will be fine." I winced in the fear that I was lying as a screech of pure torture erupted from the nursery.
Firestar lost his panic for a moment. "That doesn't sound like fine to me," he meowed bluntly. After a moment's pause, he screeched nearly as loudly as Sandstorm. "She's going to die! She's going to die!"
I breathed out noisily and crawled inside the den.
Ferncloud and Brightheart were busily stroking Sandstorm with their tails, as Whitekit murmured soothingly in her ear. I was amazed at how cool Whitekit seemed in this situation, and I briefly wondered if she would want to be my apprentice. But Sandstorm let out another earsplitting shriek, so I came up next to her.
"You're doing fine, Sandstorm," I meowed firmly, though I was worried about how much pain she seemed to be in. I shook the fear away. She was probably just overreacting.
The tenseness in Sandstorm's huge belly disappeared, and she croaked, "Really? This is fine? If this is fine, then I feel bad for the she-cats who have hard births!"
I felt Sandstorm's belly, which was unnaturally huge for only two moons. I was surprised when I only felt two heartbeats. I pressed a little harder, making Sandstorm gasp, but there weren't any dead ones, and the two were normal sized.
A spasm tore through her belly like a wave on the river, and Sandstorm cried out. "When will they come?"
"All in due time," I meowed softly. "Just hang in there."
"You'll be fine," Whitekit assured her. "Just think of the adorable kits you and Firestar will have. All the pain will be worth it." I gave Whitekit an astounded glance, and Whitekit shrugged.
Another huge spasm. Then they started coming faster, all abnormally huge. When they subsided, Sandstorm didn't have enough strength to yowl anymore.
"That should have brought both of them," I muttered worriedly.
A sudden thought struck me. What if this was me having Firestar's kits? I tried to fight down the warm feeling that crept through my veins, at the happiness of Firestar and I being mates, and our two kits suckling at my belly...
Another spasm, and Sandstorm found her voice, bringing the loudest scream yet. "Cinderpelt!" she cried. "Help me!"
The blood started to flow.
I was taken back to Sunningrocks, when I was only Cinderpaw. Fireheart watched in horror as Graystripe yowled, "No! Silverstream!" at the dying silver tabby body. The two tiny kits weren't even strong enough to wail for milk like healthy kits did.
A grim determination set in on me.
"Whitekit," I commanded. "Fetch me plenty of cobwebs, then press them on to stop the bleeding." Whitekit nodded, and shot out of the nursery, where I heard a thump, and "Ow! Sorry, Firestar!"
Sandstorm cried out in pain as another spasm passed. They started coming faster, and the blood started coming faster, too.
"Push, Sandstorm!" I encouraged. "You have to! Do it for your kits! Do it for Firestar!"
Do it for me, and the life I never could have had.
Sandstorm screeched until I thought I would go deaf, until a kit slid out. Brightheart snatched it up, nipped open the sac, and licked its fur the wrong way. "She-kit," she confirmed. "Looks exactly like Firestar." Normally she would have put it up against Sandstorm's belly, but I think she understood it was a bad time.
The spasms subsided, and Sandstorm seemed to notice the pool of blood growing around her. "I am going to die," she meowed weakly.
"No, you're not!" Whitekit's muffled mew came from a giant ball of cobwebs, all over the little kit. Cinderpelt took the cobwebs from her and placed them by her side, waiting for the other kit.
Sandstorm let out a wail, and the spasms began tearing through her belly again.
"Push, Sandstorm!" Whitekit yowled.
Sandstorm let out a screech, so loud that I wouldn't be surprised if WindClan heard it. It held all the agony and terror that one cat could have in a lifetime. The last kit plopped to the ground, and Sandstorm slumped, barely breathing.
I passed the kit to Whitekit, who seemed to know exactly what to do. I began pressing on cobwebs frantically, ordering Ferncloud to clean up all the blood so Firestar didn't see it. Whitekit gave the kit to me, a tabby she-kit with a white front chest and front paws.
Sandstorm began breathing regularly, then croaked, "Let me see my kits." Jealousy ripped through me as I scooted them to her belly, where they simply laid, not suckling.
"Are they dead?" she breathed.
The ginger one picked up its head, let out a nearly inaudible mew, and began suckling weakly. After a few seconds, the tabby did the same.
Sandstorm sighed in relief. "My kits." Her head fell to the ground, and she began sleeping naturally.
I took off the cobwebs, and the bleeding had stopped. Blood streaked my paws, but I didn't bother to clean it off. I sat down in thought, pretending to make sure the kits were okay.
What would I have given for these kits to be mine?
So, it wasn't TOO mushy like Spottedleaf, but that was because Cinderpelt never confessed her love. She kept it well-hidden, and she would never want to ruin someone's life because they took the one they loved...