(( antyways, newborn amara from c2 was the cutest lil thing and had my baby fever on 100. i thot she actually looked like him lowkey , while the older baby they used later on (after the training montage) looked like bianca loool. we're sticking with the first baby, ))
--
"Can I ask you a question?"
You stop concentrating on the buildings whizzing by just to give N'Jadaka the biggest death glare you think you can physically muster.
His hands, gripping the steering wheel for dear life, hardly move as he makes a violent left toward your apartment building. He only glances at you for a second before sighing out the question he requested.
"You in labor, right?"
You nod, hands wrenching the fabric of your shirt. You've been trying very hard to concentrate on not falling apart with wet shorts and that first contraction, but there is something more important on your brain.
"My hospital bag is in my truck," you say, going back to staring out the window. "You know, because I was supposed to be driving it. And I would have been if you didn't move my goddamn keys off the nightstand and put yours there."
He's silent, still stuck on the fact that you're in labor and you're making him drive you home. Every time he gets an attitude and protests, you bark out a different curse word each time. Until another contraction hits right as he opens his mouth and you grab a fistful of his dreads in a rage.
"CHECK ON MY GODDAMN DOG, BASTARD."
You expect him to continue with his attitude but surprisingly he starts chuckling, and before you know it you're in the parking garage. There are too many things running through your mind at once, but what you feel most is anxiety. You're anxious about your apartment being left wide open this late at night, the fate of your dog, and the fact that your baby is coming whether you like it or not. It's as if the worst of your period cramps decided to amplify and radiate from one single spot, shooting up your back and it just makes you tired.
You haven't been counting them, but you called Ramirez the second you got in the car and left her a message. Next you suppose you'll call your parents, your friends, but you also need them to know you aren't the type to want a party in the hospital room. You aren't even sure if you'll be able to stand N'Jadaka being there.
He leaves you in the car, gun in the glove compartment and doors locked tight, telling you he'll be back but you can't answer. It's dead silent and you don't even know if Damian's body is still lying deeper in the garage; or if your poor Jeep needs a jumpstart. You don't know much of anything, only that you want to take flight by the time the driver's side door swings open and N'Jadaka returns.
Your cell is ringing nonstop; your parents and your friends, but you silence them all because they already know where the damn hospital is. There's more important matters right now.
"Is King okay?"
"Yeah," grunts N'Jadaka, tossing your hospital bag into the backseat. "He limpin' but he good."
"B-"
"He'll be good later, too, now relax."
He has the foresight to dodge you when you instinctively go for his dreads again. Smart.
--
By the time you've checked in and changed, all of the adrenaline has worn off and you've never felt more exhausted. The doctors have explained to you in sweet voices that you aren't dilated enough so you alone you sit in the hall, dressed in a hospital gown and waiting for N'Jadaka to get you some ice. There are a couple other pregnant women in the same boat as you are, shuffling up and down the hall with styrofoam cups and grimaces on their faces. One, is a white woman and the other is south asian, and they regard you with understanding smiles as they pass.
