Mysterious Taylor! (A John Deacon fic)

Robert Brian Deacon

Taylor Deacon gave birth to Robert Brian Deacon in June 1979, after nine healthy months of pregnancy.

One day, John and Taylor invited Roger, Brian and Freddie for lunch, wanting to spend some time all together. While in the kitchen, gathering everything they would need for dessert, Taylor felt her legs becoming suddenly wet, and her muscles started to contract. She yelled, causing the boys to run to the kitchen, wanting to help her. Seeing that her water broke, they immediately reacted and took Brian's car to go to the hospital. While Brian was driving, panicking a bit, though he knew what it felt like, being a new dad, John and Roger were holding Taylor's hands, trying to comfort her and encourage her by saying her sweet words. John kept telling her how much he loved her and that she was strong, and Roger was repeating that she was Superwoman, that everything would be alright once Robert would be born.

They finally arrived at the hospital and John carried Taylor inside. Freddie ran to the reception to alert them that a woman was about to give birth. She pressed a button and some doctors arrived with a bed, enabling John to put his wife down. As Freddie, Roger and Brian did not have the right to attend the birth, they followed the bed to wait outside the delivery room, whiel John was tightly holding Taylor's hand, reminding her to breathe and not to push yet.

“But John, this hurts like mad!” she cried. “I'm fucking dying! Robert is going to rip off my stomach!”

Taylor wanted only one thing: to end the delivery. She wanted to hold her son in her arms, she wanted to kiss and take care of him, but the step in between was purely unbearable.

Once in the delivery room, the nurses and the midwife plugged her to a machine, so they would make sure they would keep an eye on her and not lose her. A midwife made her sit up and gave her the epidural. John sat beside her, holding her hand and kissing her hair. When the time to push eventually came, he felt nauseous. His face was as white as the sheets of the hospital.

“Mr. Deacon” the midwife said, “if you don't feel right, feel free to go out and refresh yourself. We understant it's something you're not used to, especially when it's your first child.”

“I don't want to leave her” he said in a weak voice.

“Darling” Taylor managed to say between two pushes, “you can go, dear. Go with Bri, Rog and Freddie. You'll feel better than here.”

“But what if Robert comes?”

“We'll call you, sir” a doctor said.

John finally nodded and kissed Taylor's hand before going to the corridor. He took a deep breath, and saw his three bandmates nervously sitting on a line of chairs. He walked up to them, and Roger looked up, with the most worried expression he had ever seen.

“Is there something wrong with the baby?”

“No, I'm... I feel sick.”

“Oh. Come and sit with us, then.”

John nodded and took a deep breath, walking up to his friends. Brian sat one seat after, enabling the future father to sit among them. Brian wrapped an arm around his shoulders and patted his arm.

“Would you like somethink to drink or eat?”

“No, I think it's going to be alright.”

He sighed and buried his face in his hand, nervously tapping his foot on the floor. Freddie rested a reassuring hand on his knee, winking at him.

“Hey” he whispered, “you look like you've just been dug up! Come on, cheer up! You're going to be the lovely father of a lovely boy!”

“I only hope she doesn't suffer too much...”