Queen & Beatles | OneShots

John Deacon - Baby - Part 2

Request from QUEEN_680 to do a part 2 of Baby! So here it is:)

"I HATE YOU. I CANNOT BELIEVE I LET YOU DO THIS TO ME."

"Darling calm do-"

"Don't fucking TOUCH ME"

"Well, I need to get you in the car so if you can do it yourself..."

"Obviously, I can't do it myself. I'm in fucking LABOUR, YOU SILLY SOD."

"(Y/N), come on let me help you."

Your husband assisted you in getting off the doorstep of your house and into the car during another contraction. The woman on the phone had told you to wait until your contractions were at least 5 minutes apart before going to the hospital, which meant you had spent two hours of on and off agony at home. Of course, the pain was getting progressively worse

"It hurts." You whine helplessly, as the contraction comes down.

"I know, sweetheart, If I could take it away, I would. You're doing amazing and we're going to meet our baby in just a few hours."

There was a silence as John drove and you thought about the next couple of hours. You'd never been in so much pain in all your life. Even though your husband was saying all the right things, you were in far too much pain for it to mean much.

"But it hurts." You can't help but whine the only thoughts that fill your head.

"That's why it's called labour."

"You fucking do it then."

"I would if I could; I hate seeing you in pain. It scares me." John didn't know how to react when his own pillar of stability was struggling so much and he was so helpless to stop it. This had to be the most useless he had ever fell in his marriage. Watching you scream and cry and there was nothing he could do to take it away or make it any better.

You, for now, feel okay. That's the crazy thing about contractions; agony then nothing, all of a sudden. Then a little pain. Then agony again.

"I just want it out of me now. I thought women were supposed to enjoy pregnancy and talk about how empowered they feel but these have been the most uncomfortable and difficult months of my life."

"It'll be worth it, I promise."

"I know."

"Still betting on a boy?" He asked. You had no idea whether or not your child was going to be born a boy or girl. You didn't particularly have a preference but for some reason you had a strong inclination that this might be a boy. maybe it's because boys are more difficult and you'd had such a difficult pregnancy.

"Yep."

"You're wrong. I'm telling you, love, she's a girl."

"You can't know that for su- Ahhh-" Another wave of pain hit you and suddenly you had to fold your body over and focus on your breathing.

"You're doing amazing-"

"-shut up."

John put his foot down, getting to the hospital as fast as the law allowed. You wish that you had just headed to the hospital as soon as your contractions started but you were trying to do everything right and by the book. That was something you'd learn from, if you ever had another baby.

-

After 3 more hours of pushing, screaming, swearing and pain; your baby was here. A girl. John won the bet.

"Oh my goodness, she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole entire life, darling. You've outdone yourself making her!" Freddie called out, cooing over your shoulder at your little girl. The boys have been ready to come to the hospital since finding out that you're in labour and had rushed over here as soon as possible.

Once she'd stopped crying, she was looking around curiously with big eyes. she was a small baby, almost 2 weeks early, but very healthy and meeting ever requirement she needed to in order to be taken home.

"I helped." John spoke up.

You couldn't stop staring at her. She was so tiny and perfect.

"Any ideas for names?" Brian asked.

"Well, I thought she was going to be a boy up until half an hour ago, so not really. John?" You look at your husband.

"It's your call, my love. You're the one who brought her into the world." he told you, smiling from his seat by your bed. He'd had to come out of the way in order for the boys to get a better look at the baby.

"Christ, I don't know." You shake your head.

Your eyes go back to your little human who is slowly falling asleep. She was so quiet, hardly crying, hardly cooing. Just so calm.

"Why don't you name her after-"

"Me!" Freddie cut Brian off and raised his hand.

"I am not naming my daughter Fred." John announced.

"Our daughter, John."

"Yes, our daughter, John" Freddie echoed, smirking and clearly thriving on the joyous moment.

"My apologies I'm not naming our daughter Fred. I'm not that fucking sleep deprived yet."

"There is a child present, Deaky!" Brian scolded.

John rolled his eyes and smiled. He was eager to get home so he could have his family to himself. There had been an hour after she was born, that he'd gotten chance to see you but that was whilst the baby was being cleaned and weighed. For now he would have to share.

"You're quiet, Rog."

"What about Amelia?"

"Amelia?"

"Amelia."

You grin, feeling that the name fit well with your sweet girl. It was perfect. You don't know where he could have possibly have gotten it from but it was so so perfect.

"She has a piece of Roger forever now, that's not fair!" Fred scoffed.

"Snooze, you lose." Roger shrugged, running the back of his finger over the soft tiny cheek of your baby. That was the closest Roger had really gotten, he kept his distance. Maybe he didn't know how to be around children. Or not tiny little newborns, at least.

"Let's make it worse; Amelia-May Deacon." You add. Amelia-May sounded wonderful and Brian had done so much for your the time that you had known him that it felt right.

Brian let out a high pitched 'Ha!' in surprise and happiness before kissing your cheek and placing a hand on Amelia's head as he looks at her. It's clear that every single one of the boys are imagining them self as future fathers as they stare down at the little bundle of joy.

"I won't stand for this." Freddie shook his head.

"Put him out of his misery, love." You tell John, making eye contact.

"Fred, will you be her Godfather?"

"Well I should bloody think so. Brian would make her boring and Roger doesn't deserve such perfection. It's only right. Deaky! You're officially my favourite band mate and (Y/N)," Fred perches on your bed, "Thank you for trusting me with the one most important things in your life."

"I've been doing that for years." You look at your husband. Your tired, happy, gorgeous husband. And you can say for sure; it was worth it.