5SOS Sickfics

Home Birth-❄️

For @TaylorSwift15.
WARNING: I use American terms in the first line so brace yourselves for the absence of my incredible Britishness.

xx

Luke's POV:

I was laying on the couch in a pool of somber misery, watching my beautiful girlfriend of many years flicking through the television channels with a blank expression. I see the large round bump underneath her red Rudolph sweater, and imagine the peaceful image of our soon-to-be-baby-girl sleeping in her arms very soon. My head is pounding, and I avert my eyes to the screen, but that only makes it worse.

Today is Christmas Eve.

"Hmmm... What d'ya wanna watch, mate?" Lily giggles, faking her best 'Australian' accent. Which, FYI, is really freaking terrible. See, there's no more swearing in this household, 'cause we're gonna be parents.

We should have been parents at least eight days ago. But we're not.

Despite my raging headache and uncomfortable stomach, I've been worried all day about Lily going into labour and me not being able to get her to the hospital due to the waves of rain coursing through the streets. She was rubbing her rounded tummy fondly, smiling down at the bump.

Today is Christmas Eve.

"Ugh, I want pickles and chocolate sauce. Get me some?" She moaned, batting her eyelashes in attempt to woo me. I nod and try to stand up, but immediately get way too dizzy and collapse back into a sitting position. I mumble a quiet 'sorry' as I roll over, clutching my twisting stomach. "It's okay, babe. I know you feel bad. I'll get it myself, 'kay?" She pats me on the shoulder.

Lily stood up and waddled towards to door, while I closed my eyes, finally trying to ignore the crappy feeling I'd spent all day practically embracing. It wasn't until Lily spoke up that I knew anything was wrong. "Uhhh... I think- hell, I know my water just broke."

I flipped over faster than ever to see her stood in a puddle of clear liquid on the hardwood floor. A small gasp
leaves my lips. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the sofa. The room spins. I gag.

Just in case you forgot: today is Christmas Eve.

"W-what the hell are we going to do?!" I start to panic, my stomach is bubbling and hot. Feeling a familiar rising sensation, that I'd come to hate over the past few days, within me, my eyes widen and I stand abruptly, pushing my way through to the kitchen sink in a hurry.

"Are you okay, honey?" Lily calls through, followed by a small groan in pain. I can hear panic in her voice.

"Uh-huh..." I nod even though she can't see me. I'm leaning with my hands on the counter either side of the sink. Gagging loudly: I spit some stomach acid into the drain.

"You don't sound so sure... Are  you throwing up again?" She sighs and I feel so bad for being so petty while she's getting ready to have our baby, quite literally. I want to spring up, feeling perfectly fine, and pull Lily into the car, drive her to the hospital then come home at some point tomorrow with a brand new baby girl. But, my stomach and the weather have very different ideas. Opening my mouth to reply, a hot spray of vomit expels itself from my mouth in place of the words.

I hear Lily slowly padding into the room, and feel her hand rubbing circles on my back; her other hand is protectively placed on top of her bump. After a few more minutes of the same repetitious cycle (vomiting, trying to stand up, vomiting again, trying to stand up) I noticed Lily shift. The old grandfather clock in the front room chimes loudly. I can't think straight, I can only count the numbers.

Ding. One.
Today is Christmas Eve.
Dong.Two.
Gosh, I didn't buy Mrs Hood a present.
Ding. Three.
Hell, I didn't buy Calum Hood a present.
Dong. Four .
God, no. I didn't buy my mum a present.
Ding. Five.
What? Today is only the 21st I swear.
Dong. Six .
Shut up, Luke.
Ding. Seven.
You've been in bed for three days with a flu.
Dong. Eight.
The fans! I was supposed to buy something for the fans!
Ding. Nine.
But there's thousands of them! I can't afford to get them all posters!
Dong. Ten.
Hey, your band had thousands of fans! Good job, mate! Wait, wha-
Ding. Eleven.
Today is Christmas Eve.
Tomorrow is Christmas D-

"Holy shit, just shut the fuck up!" Lily is screaming at me, but i don't know why. I give her a confused look. "You're speaking to yourself! Worrying about buying Calum's fucking mum a Christmas present. You haven't been able to buy a gift for even your own mother a gift because you were lazing around getting puke all over my carpet while I've been growing your child! And I can tell you, right now, that Liz deserves a fucking present because this hurts... So... Damn... MUCH! AND FOR THE RECORD, I DIDNT GET YOU A PRESENT, BECAUSE OOH- OH, I SEEM TO HAVE FORGOTTEN. THAT'S RIGHT. I'M GIVING BIRTH TO YOUR BABY!"

I mumble a quick sorry and take in her state. She's half on a dining table chair, half on the floor. I stumble over to her whilst still wiping my mouth on my sleeve; then I kneel down beside Lily and help her lay down properly.

"Um, p-pants off?" I ask her, even though it's clear that she's having another contraction. Lily nods, so I unbutton her maternity jeans and slip her knickers down her legs.

"Luke, this hurts so much!"

"I know, it's going to be okay."

Tears slip down her sweet face. We lay together for a while, in the middle of the kitchen floor, as her contractions come and go, steadily getting stronger. We might have laid there for minutes, hours even but nothing could have prepared me for the actual birth.

-

Sorry I don't think I can write an actual birth scene properly so here's an extra little bit to make up for it.

I was absolutely shattered. The boys were round at mine and Lily's house, visiting our baby girl, Annalee Jocy Hemmings. It was Boxing Day, and yes, our little girl was born on Christmas Day. She's not even a whole two days old and I'm already so proud of her. We were all in the lounge, and the other boys were passing Annalee between themselves, but I was still hugging a bucket to my chest instead of my daughter.

"She's tiny, dude," Michael pets her face. I smile a tiny, weeny bit before I go green all over. "Shit, are you really gonna puke again?"

"Hey, don't swear near the baby!" Ashton shields Annalee's ears as if it would make a difference. I throw up again into the bucket, and soon Calum is rubbing my back to soothe me. "Jesus, what a pair you are." Ashton is referring to Lily and I, who are sharing the sofa, both half asleep, going in and out of various stages of consciousness.

I mean, you can't blame her, she did push a baby out of her vagina.