Patrick Stump Imagines

Pregnant (Part 4)

My eyes are filled with tears the moment I woke up from that horrible dream. I sniff, as I tell myself that I'm not going to die on my labor. Everything's just getting better.

I sit up, dimming the lamp a little bit as I dash away my tears. I rub my swelling belly as I hum something to calm me down.

"Y/N?" Patrick groaned, his hand roaming on vacant part of the bed.

"I'm here." I said, trying not to sound as if I cried. "I just had a bad dream."

Even though it is a little bit dark, I saw how his face fell. There were times that I would dream about him and what he did. Maybe he's expecting that it was him in my dreams.

"What was your dream?" He asked. "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

"It's not about you."

"Then, what was it?"

"Me...I dreamt that I died during labor...a-and...a-and..." I couldn't finish my sentence as I depicted everything that I saw in my dream.

"Whatever it is, it wouldn't happen!" Patrick suddenly barked at me, in a way that I didn't expect. "We're all in this together." He took my hand and gave me am assuring squeeze.

"I'm scared."

"I'll always be here. Please always remember that. I love you." We sank down on the mattress, the rest of the dawn spent on engulfing each other's presence.

-----

The months that passed felt like seconds as my belly inflated more. After finding out that the baby's a girl, Patrick's happy about it. In fact, he has prepared additional stuff for the baby--a crib, stroller, bottles, and other stuff.

Despite of these good things that I had, all I wanted is, my parents to reconcile with me. Patrick wanted to tell them that he has everything covered, but I guess they don't want to hear a single word from us.

As the nursery rhyme stopped playing, I pull off the sound pieces from my belly. Then, Patrick sat next to me, on the staircases of his home.

"My mother said that it's alright. She wanted to assure you're fine." He murmured. "She's happy about the baby."

"But mine's not happy," I said and looked at him directly in the eyes. To calm me down, he took my hand and gave a reassuring squeeze.

"I'll try to talk to them." He murmurs. I suddenly squeezed his hand tightly, feeling the churning sensation somewhere inside me. "Holy smokes, your water sac just broke!" He says.

"I can still hold it." I said, groaning.

"Daddy's gonna take you to the hospital." Patrick murmured, lifting me in his arms and ran with caution outside to his car.