Two new members in the FBI (Rewritten)

Chapter 28

Previously on Two new members in the FBI

Jackson's Pov

"I know," Stiles replied, his hand resting on my belly. "But whatever happens, we've got this. And Boston's lucky to have us."

I placed my hand over him, feeling the warmth of his touch and the love between us. "I couldn't agree more."

As we drifted off to sleep, I felt the baby kick one more time—a gentle reminder that everything was falling into place, no matter how nervous or unsure I felt. With Stiles by my side, we were ready for whatever came next. And in just a few weeks, we would finally meet our son.

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Jackson's Pov

Later that night, the house was still and quiet, the darkness of early morning wrapping around everything like a heavy blanket. Stiles was curled up beside me, his arm draped protectively across my waist as he snored softly, his rhythmic breathing a calming presence in the room. I'd managed to drift off to sleep earlier despite the usual discomforts that came with being 32 weeks pregnant—pressure on my back, aching hips, and the tight, stretching sensation of my belly that seemed to be a permanent fixture these days. I thought I'd finally found a position that let me rest, but the peace didn't last long.

At first, it was subtle, like a faint tightening deep in my abdomen that felt stronger than any Braxton Hicks contraction I'd had before. It was enough to wake me, though, and I shifted uncomfortably in bed, thinking it might fade if I adjusted. I placed my hand on my belly, feeling Boston shift slightly, as if he were trying to stretch out, too. My breathing slowed, and I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, willing the sensation away.

But then it happened again. The tightening grew stronger, starting in my lower abdomen and radiating around to my lower back, and this time, it wasn't just uncomfortable—it hurt. My breath caught in my throat, and I winced, biting my lip to keep from making any noise. I stayed frozen in place, counting the seconds as the pain rolled through me before easing away. It wasn't excruciating, but it was so much sharper than the Braxton Hicks I'd grown used to.

"This isn't right," I whispered to myself, feeling my pulse quicken.

I looked over at Stiles, who was still sound asleep, unaware that something was changing. Before I could decide what to do, another wave of pain hit—this one more intense, lasting longer than the first. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the edge of the blanket, my breath coming in shaky gasps.

"Jackson?" Stiles's groggy voice broke through the darkness as he shifted beside me. "Are you okay?"

I couldn't answer immediately. The contraction ebbed slowly, leaving me trembling and disoriented. I turned my head to look at Stiles, whose concern had quickly replaced his sleepy confusion. He sat up, rubbing his eyes as he focused on me.

"Jackson?" His voice was sharper now, alert. "What's wrong?"

"I... I think I'm having real contractions," I managed, my voice tight. "It doesn't feel like the Braxton Hicks anymore. It hurts."

Stiles immediately scrambled out of bed, switching on the bedside lamp, the sudden light flooding the room. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice steadier than I felt. "Let's not panic yet. How long have they been happening?"

I glanced at the clock. "I woke up maybe ten minutes ago," I said, still trying to catch my breath. "It started as a small pain, but now it's getting stronger."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair, his face full of concern but determination, too. "Alright. I'm going to start timing them. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe they'll go away."