Open Wounds | Captain Swan

38. Birth

[I didn't bring my laptop on holiday so I'm unable to check for mistakes, but I promise I'll
do it when I get home tomorrow!]

EMMA'S POV

"Time for what?" He asked, completely unaware of the soreness he was causing by keeping me pinned down on the picnic table. I wanted to squirm out of his grasp, desperately seeking for the tiniest bit of relief, but I feared any movement would only increase the amount of pain.

"Pancakes?" He questioned eventually, heaving one of his eyebrows, but all I could wonder was how this man, who never failed to read me, didn't detect my discomfort in even the slightest way. Usually he would be alarmed instantly if he even noticed a minor sign that indicated I was uncomfortable, but now he was just piercing my brain with his eyes.

"No, you freaking idiot!" I yelled, no longer capable of fighting the urges to scream and push him off me. "The baby is coming!" I shouted at him, sitting up straight in the hope adjusting my position would allay the excruciating pain and sending him to the ground whilst doing so.

His butt landed on the with dew coated grass, a small sound of surprise escaping his mouth and his brain must've been occupied with processing what had just occurred. At least, that was the only logic explanation (I could provide myself with) for the question he asked next, "Baby?"

"Yes!!" I groaned, clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white. I felt the frustration building up deep inside me, knocking on an imaginary door inside me as if they were an army that tried to permeate the strong door of the enemies castle. "That thing you planted inside of me!!" I practically screamed, resting my head in my palms in order to ease the dizziness I was perceiving right now.

"Okay, right!" He said, probably switching from being utterly confused to full panic mode in record time, but, honestly, it made my love for him grow even more. "Are you okay?" I knew there was no rational reason for me to be this annoyed by his questions. I was the one who refused to talk about the birth with him. I avoided talking about the subject as much as possible, despite his efforts and the sincerity in his voice every time in his voice. So, technically, I wasn't allowed to complain. But here I was; yelling at him whilst he was just attempting to be a supportive partner.

"Besides from the fact that every single muscle in my uterus is contracting and I'm about to push a human out of me I'm just lovely." He tried to hide it, he really did. I could tell by the way he was clasping his jaw and staring at his feet. But the hurt in his eyes was not enough to outweigh my urge to snap at him, as selfish as that may sound. "Now go get that freaking truck, the bag is already inside."

"Always so sarcastic, my love." He winked, scrambling to his feet, the wind leaving him shivering slightly due to his semi-soaked pants.

"Shut up and hurry up, you snail." He nodded, probably too afraid to say something that would piss me off. To be completely honest, I felt incredibly sorry for him. I knew he was doing his best to make everything as comfortable as possible for me, despite my uncooperative attitude. The anger I was taking out on him was, oddly enough, just a way to take my mind off the pain shouting through my belly.

Before I knew it he had parked the truck in front of the table and he was hopping out with the engine still running, cursing when he almost tripped because of the rush he was in.

"I'm going to carry you, okay?" I nodded, not wanting to waste my precious energy by talking when I could also save it all for the actual delivery of the baby.

He picked me up more carefully than he had ever before, clearly terrified to hurt me. I clung onto him only a fraction of a second after his arms had encircled my midsection. His pace quickened with every step he took, but somehow he managed to walk very shallow, making the ride less bumpy for me, which I was grateful for.