When Hearts collide (An Arthur Morgan Rdr2 fanfiction)

Chapter 27: Labor pains

*4 months later*

Hope, was lost now. Arthur wasn't coming back. He and the others, wherever they were, had probably been captured or worse, were dead. I'd held onto hope, all these months, to keep me going. All this time, I kept hoping, praying. And yet, it hadn't mattered. I was becoming more and more restless, as my due date drew nearer. And, I was the only one, who'd be celebrating the birth of our baby. Alone. Well, not entirely. I had people to support me. Abigail, Sadie, Susan Grimshaw, Charles, they all had my back, during this whole pregnancy. They'd made sure, I was taking proper care, of myself. They'd made sure, I wasn't overdoing things, around camp.

Lying awake, I gaze down at my very swollen belly, and move to caress it.
    "I wish, you could've met your daddy.
You'd have had him wrapped around your little finger. I know, I am," I whisper, as my eyes slowly drift shut.
However, it wasn't much later, that I felt it. A watery substance, soaking the sheets, and making my legs wet. A pain, unlike any I had ever felt before, surged through my body, my abdomen clenching tightly.
     "Shit. Abigail, Sadie, I need you!" I cry out, as I take deep, yet raspy breaths.
The door to my room opens, and the two women enter, followed quickly by Ms. Grimshaw.
     "Peyton, what's wrong?" Sadie is the first to ask.
     "My...my water just broke. I'm in labor," I say, as another contraction hits, and hard.
      "Mrs. Adler, fetch some water and a couple of towels. Ms. Roberts, find some spare blankets. I'll go fetch Reverend Swanson," Ms. Grimshaw says.

Left alone, with nothing but my thoughts, I turn onto my back, kicking the quilt back. Taking deep breaths, I work to calm myself, before the next wave of pain hit. Before I knew it, the others were back, surrounding me. Reverend Swanson, came in prepared to give me a dose of morphine, for the pain. Not wanting to risk hurting my baby, I tell him, to remain outside on standby, should I change my mind.
    "You're gonna be okay. Just breathe," Abigail says, coming to stand at my side, taking my outstretched hand, in her own.
Another wave of pain hits, my hands gripping the rough fabric of the mattress.
    "Gah, it hurts. It hurts," I say, sweat beading my brow.
    "I know, hon. Just focus on your breathing. You're doing great," Abigail says, moving aside so Sadie could lie a cool cloth, across my forehead.

The pain goes on, for what feels like hours, becoming more intense with each wave. So intense, tears were stinging my eyes.
    "You need the reverend to give you the morphine?" Ms. Grimshaw asks.
    "No. I can do this. I have to," I gasp, before another wave hits.
    "You're so close to the end, now," Abigail says.
    "I...I wish Arthur was here," I say.
    "I know, hon. He should be here, with you," Abigail says.
    "I miss him. I miss him so much," I say, through gasps.
    "We know, sweetie pie. Now, you need to focus. It's time for you to push," Ms. Grimshaw says.
Letting go of Abigail's hand, I grip the mattress even tighter than before, as I start giving my first push.
    "Urrraaaagghhhh!" I cry out, as the pain surges ever stronger.

Nearly blacking out, I relax myself a moment, needing my strength for the next push, I knew would be coming soon.
    "You're doin' great. You're handling this, like a champion," Sadie says, taking Abigail's position by my side.
I didn't feel like a champion. I felt like I had attended a Rodeo and had been bucked by the meanest bull or bronco.
    "Alright. Give us another push, Ms. Sparks," Ms. Grimshaw says, and I brace myself once more.
    "Almost there, hon. Just a few more pushes, and you'll be a mama," Abigail says.

The pain surges through me, and before they get the chance to ask me to push again, I was doing so on instinct.
    "I can see the head. One more, and you can finally rest," Ms. Grimshaw says.
Finally, the last push came, and I heard it. The tiny wail of my newborn.
    "It's a boy," Abigail says.
I wanted to rejoice. Arthur and I had had a son. But, I was unable to. Pain surged through me again, as intense as a moment ago.
   "Sadie, clean this little feller up. We got another one," Ms. Grimshaw says.
Another one? What did she mean?

Suddenly, I was pushing, again. And like that first cry, another rang out.
   "Twins. Both boys," says Abigail, shocked.
   "Two boys. Oh, Arthur, we had two boys," I say, relaxing now, the pain gone.
    "Just let us clean them up, for you," Abigail says, joining Sadie across the room.
Soon, my boys were in my arms, nursing hungrily.
   "They're so beautiful," I whisper.
   "Have you decided on any names, yet?" Abigail asks, the others having left, to clean up.
   "Yes. The first boy, will be called Lance Arthur. The second, will be Leif Dalton. They'll carry their father's last name," I say.
    "I think Arthur would be honored, hearing you say that," Abigail says.

The door opens again, and we both look up. My eyes go wide, tears stinging my eyes once more. Standing in the doorway, his hair and beard longer than I'd ever seen them, was Arthur. He looked just as shocked as I was. Taking this moment to give us our privacy, Abigail takes her leave, brushing past Arthur on her way out. He turns to face me once more, his gaze unwavering as he slowly steps into the room.
   "Is it really you?" I ask, unable to control the tears, that were streaming down my cheeks, at the realization, that he was alive.
    "Yeah, it's me. I'm back, baby. I'm home," he says, as he makes his way over to me.
    "There's someone, I want you to meet. Well, two someone's," I say, looking down at Lance and Leif.
     "Oh my God. I'm a daddy," he says.
     "Both boys," I say.
     "I have two sons. We have two sons," he says.
     "This one, was the first born," I say, gesturing to the baby nursing on my left side.

Taking my hand in his, Arthur meets my gaze. He's crying.
    "I should've been here. I should've and I wasn't. I...I let you down, Peyton. I'm sorry, so sorry," he says.
    "It's not your fault," I whisper, squeezing his hand gently.
     "It is, though. I should've told Dutch I wasn't goin', that day," he says.
     "I don't blame you. I blame him," I say.
     "I'm sorry," he says again.
I caress the back of his hand, with my thumb.
    "You've nothing to be sorry about. Its Dutch, who should be sorry. None of this, would've happened, if not for him," I say.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Arthur gazes at our boys, once more.
    "You named them, yet?" He asks.
    "Yes. The one closest to you, is called Lance. Lance Arthur Morgan," I say.
Arthur looks up at me, adoration in his eyes.
    "And the other boy?" He asks.
    "Leif Dalton Morgan," I say.
He smiles, as he looks at our newborn sons.
    "They're perfect," he says.
Suddenly, Lance unlatches from me, and starts whimpering.
    "You wanna hold him?" I ask.
Without hesitation, Arthur takes the boy into his arms, and cuddles him. Upon instinct, he knows exactly what to do. He places Lance on his shoulder, not really caring if he spit up or not, and helped gently burp him. Once he had, Arthur cuddles him against his chest, gazing down at him, lovingly.
    "He...he looks like me," he says.
    "They both do," I say.
Joining me in bed, Arthur kisses my temple, and showers me, with love that we both missed, for months.