T H I R T Y - N I N E

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"I'm telling you that's my girlfriend in there! You have to let me in!"

"Sir, you need to calm down. As I've already told you, only family is allowed in."

Loud, angry shouts and booming voices were coming from just outside your hospital room. The door was rattling in its hinges, although you weren't sure if that was because someone was pressing against it or from the sheer volume of the voice. 

Peter was standing next to you, holding your hand and being very sure to not look anywhere in the direction of where your doctor was currently sitting on a backless, wheeled stool. Obviously he didn't want the same view that your doctor was currently getting but still stood beside you regardless. Even in your current state, you couldn't have been more grateful. You had tried to thank him numerous times already but each time you said the words he would tell you to shut up followed by something along the lines of dumbasses don't say thank you for getting help from other dumbasses. Pure poetry. You should make it into a sign and hang it in the baby's room as an inspirational quote. Or maybe not, probably not a good idea to have curse words on a nursery wall.

Before you could even begin to think about what was happening outside of your hospital room, your stomach was once again being brutally massacared. You were beginning to wonder if the sweet angel inside of you wasn't actually a little demon in disguise but that was probably just the drugs talking. Wait, you hadn't taken any drugs...  or had you? You squeezed Peter's hand, trying to find some release for the tightness and the tension in your stomach. To his credit he didn't even wince. When the ache began to subside a little you unclenched your hand, seeing the red marks your fingers had left on his palm.

He was looking at you concerned. You were guessing whatever sound you had made during that particularly painful contraction had not been a pleasant one. You were about to apologize, hoping you hadn't hurt his hand too badly when more yelling came from the two male voices in the hall just outside.

"I can hear her screaming in there, I know that's her! Let me through!"

"Do you want me to call security?"

"Go right ahead! I'm sure they'll be able to help remove your abnormally large head from that door!"

"Sir! This is a hospital! Show some decorum!"

You closed your eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. That voice, it sounded so familiar but you couldn't place it. Your head was a swirling mess of hazed pain and confusion. Damn drugs. Or no drugs? You still couldn't remember.

"Don't you understand what I'm saying? I've told you three times that I'm the father! Now get out of my way before I make you!"

"Sir, you have to check in at the desk! You haven't shown us any identification or proof that you know this woman!"

Suddenly it hit you. Your eyes shot to Peter's in a panic who had seemed too lost in making sure you were okay to have even noticed any of the yelling. Although maybe you had burst his eardrum after all of your own yelling and screaming. It had been pretty much non-stop. Yelling and screaming in the car on the way to the hospital, yelling and screaming in the wheelchair on the way to the hospital room, yelling and screaming as you had to change out of your clothes and into the ridiculous gown the hospital had forced on you. The frequent pains which you hoped would have subsided in time had only gotten worse, making the groans louder each time they came. And Peter had been by your side for every second of it, you wouldn't be surprised if he was hard of hearing.

His sight, however, apparently was functioning correctly because when your eyes met his he seemed to understand in an instant what you were asking him to do. He walked around the hospital bed, scooting around the doctor, all the while holding a hand to the side of his face. He was doing an excellent job at being very sure his view was blocked, preventing himself from seeing anything at the other end of the bed where your legs were uncomfortably splaid open for your doctor. If you hadn't been in such an intense physical state you would have been embarrassed but you were still a little bit preoccupied by the war raging on inside your body. 

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