The Fall - Book 2

249. Little?! He's just over eight pounds!

OCTOBER 31, 2020 — THE BARNES HOUSE — BUCKY

My wife gives another push, her left hand tightly squeezing mine.

"Good job, sweetheart," I tell her, using my right hand to gently brush back a strand of hair that's escaped her topknot and pressing a kiss to her forehead as she relaxes against me, her head lolling against my shoulder.

"I'm so tired," she says, her voice catching.

"I know, doll, I know. And even though you're tired, you're doing so well." I give her another kiss. "I'm so proud of you, Réa...so incredibly proud." I carefully place my right hand on her lower abdomen. "I'm proud of you too, Lupulețul nostru." (our Little Wolf)

She doesn't speak, and her posture doesn't change, but I suddenly have a gut feeling that something is wrong.

"Réa, what's wrong?" I whisper. "Are y—"

I watch her abdomen tighten as another contraction hits; when it subsides, she begins to cry.

"Sweetheart," I begin, then realize I need to see her face. "I...hold on, I want to look at you."

I move, keeping my left hand in hers as I stand, once again placing pillows behind her so that she's supported, before I sit beside her. My eyes move over her face, and even though I know my concern is evident in my expression, I'm sure she can still see the love, pride, and desire to support her clear as day on my face.

'Maybe not,' I think as more tears spill down her cheeks.

My heart clenches at the sight, and I use my right hand to gently brush them away. I stay quiet,  holding Réa's gaze as I wait for her to speak.

"I...what if...I don't...I can't do this," she eventually says, before she begins to sob.

'Oh, sweetheart....'

Almost as if her body's trying to emphasise that utterly false statement, another contraction grips her.

"S-se...see?" she chokes out once the contraction ebbs. "I-I can't ev-even...I..." she shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "You h-ha-have s-so much f-f-faith in me, b-but I can't d-do this, Bucky, I can't, I—"

"Réa, look at me," I rest my hand on her face, my thumb lightly brushing back and forth across her cheek. When she opens her crystal blue eyes and meets my gaze, I continue. "I know you're exhausted, and I don't need our link open to know that you're doubting yourself. And I know that you can do this—you are doing this. You're doing an amazing job, sweetheart." I pause, my eyes searching hers. "Your mind telling you otherwise is a lie, alright? I promise you, Réa, that I'm telling you the truth."

"He's right, sweetie," Pepper adds. "I remember feeling the same way—like I couldn't do this. And you and your dad reminded me that I could. And now Morgan is almost fourteen months old." She pauses. "I know it's scary, and it's even scarier when your mind decides to kick you while you're down." She rests her hand on Réa's arm, patting gently before she shifts her tone to what I've heard Wanda call her 'mom voice'. "Now, you're going to listen to me, and you're going to listen to your husband, and you're going to have this baby, and he's going to be perfect."

"O—" my wife's reply fades as she squeezes my hand.

"Great job, Réa," Doctor Lawrence says once that contraction has passed. "And Pepper and Bucky are right. You can do this. Especially since you'll need to pant through the next contraction."

"You mean...?" my wife asks.

"Yes. Your son is almost here, Réa."

"See, doll? I told you...your mind is lying to you." I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers. "Open a link with me, Réa." She opens her mouth—I know to protest—but I continue. "Please. I promise it will be okay. I promise."