My Love (Armin Arlert x Reader)

Slight Comfort

The drive to the hospital was a blur. All you could focus on was the seemingly never-ending sensation of cramping spreading from your back to your abdomen. It was a double-edged sword; it hurt like a bitch, but it offered you a distraction from your thoughts. Why were you in labour so early? Was your daughter going to be okay? Were you going to be okay? In your disillusioned state, you couldn't even spare a thought for your husband, who was calmly driving you to your destination. Armin was anxious, sure, but the thought of finally being able to meet his daughter clearly kept him calm. Being together for so long, you just knew how he thought like that. If he was calm, even after knowing close to every single thing that could go wrong, you should be too. Your breathing begins to slow as he pulls into the hospital, yet again.

Armin helps you out of the car, carefully supporting your back with his arms. Intertwined with you, he guides you through the emergency department's large, heavy doors. You breathe in the air of the hospital, its industrial scent a gentle reminder of the hurt you experienced just five months earlier. Your heart sinks as you remember the emotional pain of the past, but the physical pain of the present quickly draws you back in. You flop into one of the waiting room chairs as you wait for your husband to check you in at the front desk.

The chair's vinyl material is cold and uninviting, and not to mention an unsightly shade of green. Its rock-like seat nor stiff plastic armrests provide little comfort, but you weren't exactly in a position to complain. You try to relax, as you tune out Armin's explanation of your predicament to the triage nurse. Your dissociative state is interrupted by the monotone words of the nurse.

'Sorry, we can't admit your wife until her contractions are 5 minutes apart,' they say.

Fuck. You couldn't go home, so you were basically stuck here. Here in this cold, uninviting chair. At least you had Armin. He walks back to you with a tinge of sadness on his face.

'They can't admit you yet, they're pretty busy apparently,' he says, sitting down beside you. 'I tried explaining that it was early, but...'

You nod your head slightly. 'I know,' you say, trying to hold back your anxiety.

You had to face it: you were scared out of your mind. For the past 8 months, everyone had been telling you how painful this was going to be. Now, it was finally here. You rest your head on Armin's shoulder. Almost instinctively, he wraps his arm around you and rubs his thumb against your outer arm, providing you with slight comfort. You grab his free hand and squeeze it tightly. Armin turns his body slightly to look at you. His attention is now completely focused on you. The two of you stare at each other with widened eyes.

'Armin...' you begin, unsure of how to continue.

'I know you're scared,' he says, rather firmly. 'I am too. You're doing great, y/n.'

You nod, leaning deeper into his touch. Armin responds by gently tightening his grip on your arm.

'Besides, when we leave here, it won't just be us anymore,' he reminds you.

You go to nod once again, instead unconsciously turning your agreement into a wince of pain. You were having yet another contraction. Armin pulls out his phone and immediately begins timing. You try to smile, he was so good to you. He both had no idea what was happening, and knew exactly what he was doing. His love for you was the most powerful force keeping him calm in this situation.

Five minutes pass. Then another five. Then another ten. After about an hour, your contractions begin to quicken, with only the required five minutes in between them. They were quickly beginning to increase in intensity. In amongst your pain, you had felt the gentle trickle of water down your leg. As expected, Armin quickly arranges to get you admitted. Within minutes, you were resting on another firm hospital mattress. This room was more private than the "room" you had been in the last time you were here. It was more spacious, with the same industrial colour palette, but quieter. It was nice, for a hospital room. Its singular rectangular window looked out to the nearby city, its lit-up skyline providing an adequate backdrop. Suddenly, the sound of a door opening catches your attention. Hange walks in, surprisingly alert for midnight.