so long - t.s.h [sequel to pinky promises]

[fifteen]

A little less than two weeks before your due date, you woke up in the middle of the night with strong pains that were definitely not letting up, and you knew that this was the real thing. As much as you wanted to just roll over and go back to sleep, it wasn't happening; you were starting to feel stupid for thinking that the braxton hicks were the actual thing. And you didn't want to wake Tom up, knowing that he'd insist on taking you to the hospital when you knew that it'd likely be a while before anything actually happened.

For a while, you did your best to breathe through the smaller contractions on your own because they weren't super close together. But as it got closer to the time Tom would normally get up anyways, you decided to wake him up. You'd just have to convince him to wait to go to the hospital until his parents could come over to watch Maggie, at the very least.

"Tom," you muttered, pushing his shoulder lightly. This did nothing, so you tried again, shoving his shoulder a little more forcefully, "Tom! Thomas, wake up."

This did the trick, and he groaned, rubbing his hand over his face, sleep still lacing his words, "Wha-? I'm up, I'm up. 'S everything okay?"

"I'm having contractions."

Eyebrows furrowing, Tom blinked his eyes open and squinted at you, "Huh?"

"I'm in labor, I think. Pretty damn sure, actually," you huffed, leaning back against the headboard.

Sitting straight up, Tom turned to you with a panicked look on his face, now that you'd gotten his attention, "What?! How long have you been having contractions?"

"At least since I woke up..."

"Which was when?"

"Like an hour and a half ago, I've had a few contractions since then..." you admitted, knowing he'd be angry with you for not waking him up right away.

"Y/N!"

"I know! I'm sorry! There's just not anything you can do, really. And they're still pretty far apart, so we probably don't have to go to the hospital for a while anyway."

Tom gave you a skeptical look, tilting his head to one side with his lips pursed and eyebrows raised, "Are you sure?"

You nodded, trying to reassure him, "Yes, love. They're really not that bad, it's ju—" you stopped suddenly, breathing out forcefully as another contraction started, your eyes squeezing shut.

Hand rubbing your back gently, Tom was quiet until it had passed, but he still couldn't help but be a bit of a smartass (he wouldn't be Tom without it), "What were you saying?"

"Shut up," you mumbled sheepishly, "They're just like bad cramps right now. When your parents are awake, we can go to the hospital. I don't want to wake Maggie."

Tom had agreed to wait for a bit, but as soon as he knew they'd be awake, he called his mum, who was more than happy to come over to watch her granddaughter. You'd heard something along the lines of "Is it time?!" from the phone, even though Tom was the one on the phone with her.

The contractions were starting to get stronger and closer together, so you finally let Tom take you to the hospital when his parents had arrived to take care of Maggie. As you sat in the hospital bed while they started to hook you up to a few machines to monitor you and your baby, you could tell that Tom was nervous as you watched him pace the room.

"Tom, love," you called out, trying to get his attention, "your pacing is making me anxious."

Crossing the room to you, Tom sat on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his and kissing your forehead, "Sorry, I'm sorry. I am kind of nervous. Mostly excited, but nervous."