Disastrous

Twenty Three

Lights, blinding lights shining down in my face; forcing my lids to peel open in a squint.

The seconds passed by slowly, too slowly, everything around me blurry and unknown. A stinging sensation could be felt in my lower stomach faintly, my legs and feet unable to move.

I moaned out as a harsh pressure collided with my stomach, someone's fingers becoming aware to me as they softly stroked my scalp. I blinked back the tears to meet deep, worried blue eyes. Niall's.

"It's okay" He said, though I couldn't hear him, I could only read the words on his lips.

A gasp of breath was inhaled as another pressure was pulled against my stomach, Niall's free hand cupping mine that I now realized was strapped down on the table. Panic washed over me, my surroundings still unknown as I tried to move my legs.

When nothing happened I began to cry, unsure if I was dreaming or already dead. Niall shushed me, brushing his fingertips and then his lips over the tears spilling down my cheek, promising me I was safe.

I didn't feel safe, but I was glad he was here with me, wherever here was.

My ears seemed to tune in, a noise that sounded like a straw sucking up the last remnants of liquid from a cup startling me. My eyes snapped forward and away from Niall, only to be met with a light blue curtain that covered from just below my chest and down.

"What's happening?" I cried, trying to sniff down my tears and get a grip. I could now hear other voices in the room, though I couldn't see anything that was happening around me; I could only see Niall.

"They have to try to save him," Niall murmered against my ear, and it was then that I realized how distressed he was, rocking gently back and fourth in the chair he was sitting in.

Reality hit me like a transport truck, squeezing all of the air from my lungs and crushing my ribs. Another ache took place in my chest, right over my heart.

They were trying to save our baby.

It all came back to me, getting booted in the stomach, the excuciating pain I felt afterwards. I felt sick suddenly, but the overwhelming urge to protect what was mine, my child; overpowered anything else.

"Please don't let him die." I begged silently through the salty tears drenching my face, hoping God could hear me. If there was a God, and I was raised knowing there was, he would protect my unborn child and bring him into this world safely, no matter what happened to me.

All the selfishness I ever felt towards my baby was gone. He did not ruin my life, he made my life. And I would give anything to be able to hold him, even if it was only for a moment.

"Promise me you'll take care of him," I choked out, feeling my breaths begin to shorten. The pain in my abdomen was back, so unbelievably horrible that I knew it wouldn't be long until I passed out. And I didn't know if I would wake up again.

"What? Niall asks shakily, leaning up to meet my eyes.

"Promise me Niall, promise me that you'll care for him." I beg, vision completely gone from the amount of tears.

"We'll take care of him Shay, not just me." Were the last things I heard before everything went black again.

~

Way back in what felt like prehistoric times, I used to think hell was a place for sinners to go when they died. I was raised by very catholic parents, that told my brother and I that as long as we minded our P's & Q's, did our homework, and ate our vegetables everything would be okay.

That theory I had was dead wrong.

For to me, hell was not some burning red place that was below the earth we stood on. Hell was not a place where god sent bad people when they passed on. Hell was not filled with fire and anger and evil, or run by a man with horns and a pitchfork.

Hell was sitting in a hospital bed, waiting, praying, hoping, that your child would be alive. I had somehow survived the surgery, and now I was in recovery, with Niall by my side. Though I couldn't even focus on him, the only thing I saw was the door; waiting for it to open.

The same scenario played over and over again in my head:

The doctor would walk through the door with a seldom look on his face. He would tell us that they couldn't save our baby, that the damage was too severe. I tried to force myself not to whimper at the thought, but failed miserably. I could feel Niall's gaze snap towards me, even though I wasn't looking at him.

With tears beginning to coat my eyes, I knew it wouldn't be long until they fell.

He pulled me into his arms and the first sob fell free. With my head cradled against his chest, I wrapped my arms tight around Niall's waist and let my screams go against the firmness of him. My tears soaked through his shirt but he didn't seem to care, soft meaningless words being whispered in the air between us.

I felt ridiculous and powerless that I was finding comfort in his arms and his words. It shouldn't be this way. I shouldn't be letting him hold me when mere hours ago I basically told him to get lost. It wasn't fair to him or to me. Niall and I had shared nothing together but a child, and if we were lucky we still would.

Sucking in a pathetic breath I pushed Niall away from me. His frown was evident immediately, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. I didn't know what it was Niall wanted from me, I didn't have a clue but we couldn't be together. Even if I still wanted to, he made enough bad decisions already as it was.

But I couldn't think about that now. I had to worry about our- my baby.

"Shay, I think we should-"

His voice was cut off as the door I had taken my eyes off of squeaked open.

I started shaking and crying all over again as the doctor that did the emergency c-section came beaming into the room, with a bundle wrapped in his arms. I sobbed so hard the noises escaping me were endless, and as my very beautiful, very alive son was placed into my arms I realized Niall was crying too.

My pointer finger delicately stroked his puffy pink cheek, and the most beautiful sound to ever reach my ears was his loud wail. He screamed and screamed and Niall and I both cried harder, arms wrapped around him and our healthy baby. He was born slightly premature but was perfectly okay. His vitals were great, his heart pumping boldly, and his lungs definitely working perfectly.

My eyes stung from the tears but I couldn't care less. I pressed my lips carefully to the delicate flesh on his forehead, both of his cheeks, his tiny lips. Niall's hands took over next with the soft stroking, but of us absolutely intrigued by the life that lay in a tiny blue blanket in my arms. He was smaller than what I hoped he would come out as, but I left that up to him being a little over a month premature.

I wasn't even sure if the doctor was still in the room with us, but when I looked up to see an emptiness around the room I sighed in relief. I thought it best if we were left alone for a while with our baby.

"God, he's perfect." Niall sighed, leaving one last soft kiss to his tiny cheek.

"So small... So fragile but god, you did it Shay. He's here and he's safe and so beautiful."

I nodded frantically, wiping quickly at the last remnants of tears before handing our son off to Niall to hold.

He was even more ecstatic as he sat closely in the chair beside me and focused on the bundle in his arms. It dawned on me that I probably should be calling people. My mother, my brother, probably even my father. And Arabella. Plus Niall would have to notify his family and close friends. We had so much to do but I just didn't care to do it right now. All I wanted was to hold my baby, watch him sleep, cradle him in my arms, and be content. Somehow, he had survived and so had I and everything was going to be okay. No matter what was going on between Niall and I, it would all be okay.

A/N:

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