She was sweating, her damp hair clinging to her forehead. Finnick reached out and brushed the strands away, but nothing he did could stop her screams. She squeezed his hand tightly enough that he was certain he'd see bruises tomorrow, but he didn't move away, instead leaning in to kiss her forehead and whisper his love into her ear. Finnick told her again and again that she'd be all right, that it would all be over soon, doing his best to mask his own uncertainty for her benefit.
Annie screamed again, and though the white-garbed figures that shared the room barely seemed to notice, the sound echoed through Finnick's head until he was blinking away tears. He couldn't bear to see her in so much pain, especially knowing that he'd caused her suffering. "Tell me that this will all be over soon, that I'm going to be fine," she demanded.
He has never been able to deny her anything, and this day will not be the day that changes. Finnick parroted her words back to her, adding a kiss on her cheek and hoping she was right.
It took two more agonizing hours, but eventually, it did get better. No, better couldn't describe how he felt gazing down at the wet, wrinkled skin of his newborn son, and perhaps nothing could come close. "Ronan," she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.
"He's beautiful."
Annie's eyes didn't leave their child as she smiled. "Takes after his father, I suppose."
"His mother, certainly." He reached out a finger to stroke the baby's cheek, Ronan's skin smooth and soft under his own roughly calloused hands. Annie raised an eyebrow and shifted the baby into Finnick's arms.
He had practiced with the dolls that Thirteen provided, of course, but they were nothing like this. With those, Finnick had never felt so oafish or clumsy. Ronan looked so tiny cuddled in large hands, and for a moment, he worried that he would drop the small, precious bundle that represents every hope and dream they've ever had. But soon, Ronan was settled into the crook of his arm, and looking down at eyes clenched shut against unfamiliar brightness, Finnick learned just how much love one human heart could hold.
.oOo.
A/N: This was written for Day 1 of Caesar's Palace Shipping Week and using the prompt birth.