The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Fifty

"I'm only 36 weeks. It's too early. Oh, fucking fuckity fuck," you growl, teeth gritting as you breathe through another contraction with Steve's hand rubbing a circle on your back. Bucky glances over at you with his phone to his ear, waiting to connect to your midwife.

"How long have they been happening?" she asks once she picks up her line. Bucky looks helplessly at you and repeats the question.

"I don't fucking know. Since last night sometime?" you answer when it finally eases. You aren't even aware of Steve checking his watch.

"Baby, why didn't you say anything?" Bucky asks.

"Because I thought they were just the stupid fucking practice ones. Obviously."

"And how far apart are they now?" the midwife asks in his ear.

"Um, I'm not sure how far."

"About five and a half minutes," Steve answers, as he continues to rub his hand on your back.

Bucky passes the information on and listens as the midwife gives him instructions. Hanging up the phone, he slips it into his pocket and moves over to the closet and pulls down a duffle bag, grabbing whatever looked good and shoving it into it.

"What are you doing?" you ask, voice strained.

"Packing you a bag."

"Why?"

"Because we are going to the hospital. What else do you need me to pack?"

"I don't fucking know, because it's too early for the baby to come," you say, voice high in a panic. "It's too early."

Setting the bag down on the floor, he strides over to the bed and cups your face in his hands. He holds your gaze steadily, fingers stroking soothingly. "Baby, I understand you're scared, but you're in labor. Early or not, we will be getting to meet our little tadpole soon. Now, can you please tell me what else you need me to pack for you?"

You take a deep breath and try to focus. Trying to remember what had been on the lists you'd looked up. "Um. Did you already pack my robe?"

"Yes," Bucky says, coming back out of the closet. "I've got that and your comfiest pjs and other things like that. What else do you need that isn't clothes?"

"Um." Another contraction hits you, and you breathe through it while Bucky waits it out. Panting a little, you straighten back up. "Um. I've got a little travel bag in the bathroom. Shampoo and stuff. I'll need my toothbrush too."

"Okay, got it, anything else?"

"Under the sink there are pads, I'll need those, and there is mesh underwear in my drawer still unopened," you groan a little when the next contraction hits. "And um. In the baby room, there's a basket that has nipple cream and perineal spray. That too."

"What the hell is perineal spray?" Steve asks as Bucky disappears out the door.

"It's a numbing spray so that when I take a piss it doesn't fucking hurt so much after my vagina tears open after I push a goddamn pumpkin out of it," you snarl. Steve winces heavily at the thought, feeling a little panicky himself now. Who in the world designed this shit?

"Alright, anything else?" Bucky asks.

"I don't fucking know."

Unruffled, Bucky nods and zips the bag up. "Great, let's go then. Steve, you mind pulling the car around and I'll get her downstairs?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve says, still haunted by the idea of this numbing spray thing. Bucky shakes his head as he leaves, snagging the bag on his way.

"Alright, come on baby, let's get you up," Bucky coaxes you out of the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and taking most of your weight as he leads you downstairs. It's slow going, and you have to stop halfway down the stairs with another contraction. "That's it baby, breathe through it."