~ Powers of Nations: A Countryhumans Chronicle

▶Chapter:82◀

Info: in that book, pregnancy can take just six months.

The chapter:

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3rd person pov:

The past six months had been a journey of emotional highs and lows for both Ukraine and Russ. Russ had stayed by his brother's side through it all, providing unwavering support. Kazakhstan and Belarus visited frequently, bringing comfort and joy to Ukraine as his pregnancy progressed. The bond between the brothers had grown stronger, and there was a sense of quiet anticipation as the day drew nearer.

But on that particular night, Ukraine felt something different. It started as a dull ache, but within minutes, it intensified into a sharp, unbearable pain. He tried to ignore it, breathing deeply and willing it to pass, but the pain only grew stronger, more insistent. A strangled cry escaped his lips, and he clutched his swollen belly, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Russ!" Ukraine called out, his voice laced with panic. "Russ, help me! It hurts so much!"

Russ, who had been in the next room, rushed in immediately. His heart sank when he saw Ukraine doubled over in pain, sweat beading on his forehead. Russ quickly moved to his brother's side, gently supporting him as he tried to assess the situation.

"It's okay, Ukraine. I'm here," Russ said, his voice calm but firm. "We need to get you to the hospital. Hold on, I’ll get you to the car."

Ukraine nodded weakly, his breath coming in short gasps. Russ helped him to his feet, supporting most of his weight as they made their way out of the house. Ukraine cried out in pain, clutching Russ's arm tightly as they moved. The drive to WHO felt like an eternity, Ukraine's screams filling the car as Russ pushed the vehicle to its limits.

"We're almost there, Ukraine," Russ reassured him, though the worry in his voice was hard to mask. "Just hold on a little longer."

Finally, they arrived at WHO's facility. Russ called for who worked there to carry Ukraine inside, his own fear kept tightly in check as they were rushed to a private room. WHO, always the epitome of calm under pressure, was already there, directing her team with precision.

"Ukraine, you're going to be fine," WHO said, her voice soothing yet authoritative. "You're in good hands."

Russ stayed by Ukraine's side, holding his hand tightly as the contractions intensified. Ukraine’s grip on Russ's hand was almost unbearable, but Russ didn’t flinch. He bit his lip, focusing on being a pillar of strength for his brother. The room was filled with the sounds of Ukraine’s cries, the steady beeping of medical equipment, and WHO’s calm instructions to the nurses.

"You're doing great, Ukraine. Just a little more," WHO encouraged, her hands steady as she guided Ukraine through the final stages of labor.

Ukraine's screams reached a peak, his whole body trembling from the effort, and then, with one final push, the cries of a newborn filled the room. The sound seemed to echo, and for a moment, everything else fell silent. Ukraine collapsed back onto the bed, utterly exhausted, his body spent.

"You did it," WHO said softly, a rare smile gracing her features as she handed the newborn to the nurses to be cleaned. "You're a father, Ukraine."

Russ breathed a sigh of relief, his own exhaustion paling in comparison to what his brother had just endured. He wiped the sweat from Ukraine's brow, offering a reassuring smile as Ukraine's breathing began to slow.

As the nurses finished their work, WHO returned, cradling the baby in her arms. She walked over to Ukraine, her expression softened by the sight of the new life she held. "He's beautiful, Ukraine. Congratulations."