Don't Need Them - John Laurens x Reader {DISCONTINUED}

- 41 -

WARNING: Labor/child birth. If this topic is rather uncomfortable for you, then maybe skip the beginning-middle of this chapter. Continue with that in mind!

Your POV

Even though my water had broke, I knew we had a little time left before the hospital was necessary.

John had carefully helped me into the bath, kneeling down next to me and placing my hand in his. He mostly said gentle reassurances, reminding me not to push when I felt the urge to.

Eventually, the water started going cold, and John helped me out, giving me fresh clothes. After changing, John picked me up as carefully as he could. "Are you ready, chickadee?"

I nodded, inhaling shakily. "I-I guess.."

I looked up at John, seeing him smile gently. He tilted his head down, placing a light kiss on my forehead. "You'll be fine, chickadee. I got you"

I held his gray t-shirt, looking up at him. "P-Promise?"

John held me more securely. "I promise. Always."

~

It was an odd connection to make, but labor almost reminded me of your typical video game. The farther you progress in most games, the more difficult the level. Labor was almost like that, but rather than difficulty increasing... the pain did.

It also didn't help that it had been hours. I was stuck in the hospital, waiting to have my baby. It felt like it had been a whole day since the pain began the evening before.

"I just wanna have the baby... this hurts.." I muttered, looking at John.

John squeezed my hand gently. "I know, ángel. But it'll be worth it, I promise."

"I'm sure you're--" I winced as a contraction hit. "--r-right..."

He squeezed my hand again. "Just breathe, ángel. Don't worry about talking.."

So it was quiet. And after what felt like an eternity, the midwife spoke up.

"You're ready, (Y/N)," she informed kindly.

I felt my anxiety skyrocket. "Mierda... I-I.."

I looked over at John, who knelt slightly next to the hospital bed. His lips pressed against mine briefly.

"Don't worry, chickadee. Remember what this is for, and remember I'm here."

~

I knew pushing would be painful, but also had no idea what to expect. But it hurt. A lot. It felt like the area where the baby was was burning and tearing apart harshly.

There was some relief in being told the baby's head was out, but the pain countered that. Time continued to pass. Yet the pain worsened as the baby got closer.

Everything hurt, and I was starting to feel weaker and tired. I looked at John.

"I-I can't d-do it, John.. I c-can't..." I whispered.

John wiped the tears streaming down my cheeks. "But you can, (Y/N). You can."

So.. I kept going.

-

Most of the baby was out. And it still hurt like hell.

The contraction I was in only seemed to worsen, making my body tense up even more. My eyes shut, feeling hot tears. I held John's hand tightly, a muffled sob escaping. "J-John..!"

I felt my hand held in both of my husband's. "I'm here, mi princesa.. You've done so well.."

The pain reached a peak, and I felt like I was about to scream. But it caught in my throat when I suddenly felt this weird sensation from my lower regions and no more pressure. There was a beat of silence, then tiny cries.

My eyes opened, widening slightly when I saw the newborn in the doctor's arms.

"June sixteenth, twelve fifty-four a.m. Healthy baby girl," I heard the doctor note.

It was a brief moment before the baby was quickly but carefully handed to me. Instantly, I cradled her to my chest, looking at John.

John had tears slipping down his dotted cheeks. But the smile on his face...

He quickly placed his lips on mine, kissing me gently. We pulled apart after a few beats, John looking at the baby girl.

"My girls..." he whispered. "My two favorite girls..."

My husband wrapped an arm around me, helping me relax fully. The little infant was taken after a few minutes so she could get cleaned off.

John and I didn't have to say anything to know her name. We had known from day one what we'd name our little girl if we had one.

"Our little Frances Eleanor. Our daughter," John spoke softly.

I smiled, leaning into him. "Our daughter.."

Frances was brought back a short time later, wrapped in a light pink blanket. Even under the little hat I could already see faint wisps of curls.

I couldn't help but smile when she was handed to John, who had to unwrap his arm from around me to hold her. But the amount of love and pride in his misty hazel eyes was unmatched.

"Mi niña hermosa..." he muttered. (My beautiful girl...)

John held her securely with his arm, quickly running a hand through his short mess of curls. But before he could put his hand down again, Frances raised her own tiny hand.

My husband's hazel eyes widened slightly, bringing his hand toward our daughter. Once his hand was close enough, she grabbed his index finger in both tiny hands.

A smile split John's face. "She's gonna make me start cryin' again..."

I giggled, and Frances almost looked like she was smiling. John chuckled, looking back at me.

"I'm so proud of you, chickadee. You pulled through."

"Yeah.. You were right though... it was worth it.."