Jaylor Oneshots

Both Of You pt. 3

A/N: I BET Y'ALL ARE SO EXCITED TO FINALLY SEE AN UPDATE FROM ME RIGHT? (nope)

Unfortunately this is the last part of this...idk what this is but I'll be back to writing oneshots after this.

Disclaimer: I'm 13, okay? Obviously, I don't know the exact details of pregnancy and labour and all that stuff and I'm 90% sure I got some facts wrong in the previous part because I just searched it up. So expect a bit inconsistency from the previous part. And most probably more incorrect facts. And since I'm going on holiday like literally tomorrow and there isn't gonna be WiFi 90% of the time, I'm rushing to complete this so I'm trusting myself and not proof-reading this (which is probably gonna prove to be a huge mistake but oh well).

Anyway I won't drag the A/N out too long here's the chapter I hope you like it :)

•••

Joe's POV

Oh fuck.

After a few seconds of gaping at each other in shock and disbelief, my sense of urgency kicks in and I jump off the bed.

"Get dressed, we're going to the hospital," I order, trying to keep my voice even in spite of my heart thumping wildly in my chest like a symphony of a thousand drums as I start timing the period of time between her contractions. She needs my support right now, not more stress.

"Well, no shit, Sherlock," Taylor snaps, but obediently complies.

After she gets dressed, I help her get up from the bed and support her as we slowly but surely make our way to the car. Thank god I temporarily moved our room downstairs in anticipation of this happening—and because of Taylor's previously mentioned exhaustion from walking down the stairs.

When we finally reach the car, I help her into the passenger seat, then make my way around the front of the car to the driver's seat and get in. Instinctively, I keep one hand on the steering wheel and reach out for hers with the other one. Being the son of a psychiatrist, I know that she needs my support right now, so I take her hand in mine and squeeze it 3 times, an action that we have adopted as our own to wordlessly tell each other "I love you" and calms her down instantly. This time, it isn't as effective as it is in other situations, but I can see her shoulders relaxing slightly and, considering the circumstances, that is better than nothing. 

Honestly, I don't know how I'm timing while paying attention to traffic at the same time, but somehow I'm able to do just that. Whenever Taylor gets a contraction, she will grip my free hand tightly until it is over. I'm very much aware that I probably broke quite a few speed limits during the 10-minute drive to the hospital, but at this point, I don't really care anymore. All I can think about is how my wife is in labour right now and I need to get there as quickly as possible.

When we get to the hospital, I park at the nearest empty spot to the entrance. Swiftly, I unbuckle my seatbelt, open the car door and make my way to the other side of the car, where Taylor is currently attempting to get out of the car with some trouble due to her swollen belly.

Supporting her with an arm around her waist, we slowly but surely walk toward the entrance of the hospital. The moment we step through the doors, a nearby nurse happens to notice us and manages to deduce what's happening without me having to scream that the woman beside me is in labour—which would be quite inconvenient for us, considering said woman in labour is Taylor Swift.

Everything becomes a whirlwind of events and in the blink of an eye, we are in a hospital room, waiting for the doctor to get here. Luckily, the wait doesn't take too long. As he measures how dilated she is, he asks, "Have you been timing the contractions?"