KISS: Road Trip

Ch 39: We Should Go (Paul)

The door to my room flew open at like two in the morning and Gene shook me awake aggressively, melting into a full-blown panic. "Paul, Paul holy shit Paul wake up," he cried.

"W-what? What the hell's wrong? Geez man, it's way too early," I mumbled, pushing myself upright. "Shannon went into labor and I'm not there and I need to be there and holy shit Paul I gotta get to California now and I don't know what to do!" he shouted, still shaking me.

Oh shit.

I jumped out of bed, heart pounding, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Gene, deep breath. Go get a bag together, I'll book you a flight out to California, the earliest one I can find!" He nodded before grabbing my arm. "Book one for you too, I need you there," he said quietly, darting off to pack.

Within twenty minutes we were on the way to the airport, him freaking out and clutching the tickets like his life depended on it. "Oh, this wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't supposed to happen! She's only eight months pregnant, I was supposed to have a month to get home, this wasn't supposed to happen!" he muttered, running a shaking hand through his hair.

I patted him on the shoulder, keeping my eyes on the road. "It'll be okay, we'll be there in less than five hours. Don't worry, we'll be there!" But he didn't listen. "Eight months, that's not the full term, that's only eight not nine. What if something's wrong with Nick?!" he cried, looking at me in terror. I shook my head, patting him on the shoulder again.

"Gene, it'll be okay. That's not that premature, babies born at eight months are fine. I was born like three weeks early. Just talk to your mom, she works in a neonatal unit." "Oh fuck I gotta tell my mom!" he said, pulling out his phone. "Mom, Mom Shannon's in labor and I don't know what to do because I'm across the country, what do I do, Mom what do I do?!" he asked, running a hand through his hair. He chewed on his lip as Aunt Flora said something before an immense look of relief spread across his face. "Oh thank goodness. Okay yeah. Yeah me and Paul are heading to the airport now. Tell her I'll be there in five hours. I know, I know, I know. Thanks Mom, I love you, tell Shannon I love her and I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up, holding his head in his hands. "Oh, fuck," he muttered. "What's the news?" I asked. Gene gave me a weak smile. "My mom's there with her, they're not at the hospital yet cause they don't need to be and it'll be fine, it'll be fine, oh man it's not gonna be fine, it's not fine," he muttered. "Gene. Calm down. You need to calm down."

"Calm down?! Paul you want me to calm down?! My wife is giving birth to our son and I'm all the way across the fucking country, how do you expect me to calm down?!" he shouted. "Shannon is going to need you to be your usual calm and composed self. And you are going to be that because we're going to be there in five hours or less." But my words fell on deaf ears because he was still freaking out.

He was freaking out as we practically ran through the airport, boarding the plane and taking our seats. Hands shaking, he sat in his seat, running a hand through his hair and staring anxiously out the window. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him a smile. "Gene. Deep breath. Relax."

Gene took a shaking breath, face pale and eyes wild. "I can't, I can't, I can't, man! I can't relax when my wife's across the country giving birth to our first kid!" he hissed. "I know, I know, but you need to take a deep breath and calm down. You gotta stay calm for Shannon's sake." He nodded, chewing on his lip. "Yeah, yeah. Gotta stay calm. It'll be fine. We'll get back before she actually has the kid," he mumbled, before closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat. "Ohhh no I'm such a terrible husband, her parents are gonna hate me. Her mom's gonna kill me. Fuck, Shannon's gonna kill me," he moaned. "You're not, it was unexpected, there's nothing you could do," I said reassuringly.

He bolted upright and turned to me, eyes wide. "Oh no Paul I've never been on a plane before," he whispered, tugging at the seat belt and looking like he suddenly wanted to be anywhere else but here. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him a reassuring smile. "It'll be okay. Just take a deep breath, alright?"

His face was pale, eyes full of panic, and he was visibly shaking now. "Gene, it's okay. Flying's not that bad, alright? I've done it before loads of times, you're going to be fine! Deep breath." He bit down on his lip, chest heaving, gripping the armrests until his knuckles turned white. "I don't like heights. I don't like them. And planes go really high." I nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "I know, I know, you never have, it's like the only thing you're scared of, but it's okay, don't even think about that! Just focus on Shannon and Nick."

He didn't say anything as the flight attendants ran through the safety briefing, just stared at the floor in a panicked silence. As we started to move toward the runway he started to shake even more before turning to me. "Paul I'm really scared I'm sorry. Can...can I hold your hand?" he choked. I nodded and he immediately gripped my hand, squeezing it so hard my knuckles cracked, and screwed his eyes shut.

By the time we were actually in the air, he had relaxed a little bit but was still holding my hand tightly. "Oh fuck, oh fuck," he whispered. "Oh, I do not like this." I grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "It's gonna be fine! The flight is gonna be fine and we're going to get there and we're going to go see Shannon and you'll be there when your son is born, alright?" He nodded, keeping his eyes closed. "Okay. You're right, you're right. It'll be fine. Ah, okay, okay, okay. It'll be okay." "You're doing it for your wife and son, just think about them, don't think about this."

He nodded, face paper white, and kept muttering to himself while clutching my hand.

He liked landing as much as he liked takeoff, which was to say not at all, and my fingers felt broken by the time the plane pulled into the gate.  "Oh my gosh hurry up, get out of the stupid plane. Dammit Paul, you just had to get seats in the back. This is a nightmare, everyone's taking so long to get out of the fucking plane and we're not going to make it to the hospital in time," he growled, gripping the seat in front of us. The woman seated there turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me young man, I would leave if there wasn't fifty other people in front of me," she snapped.

Gene's face turned crimson and I tried not to laugh as this old lady put him firmly in his place. "I'm so sorry about that ma'am, his wife is having their first kid so he's a bit anxious since it was unexpected and we've had to rush out here," I said, grabbing Gene's arm. The woman's face lit up and she put a hand on her heart. "Oh, congratulations! Newborns are so precious, I'm sure you'll be a wonderful father. I'll let you go in front of me. You might be the fiftieth person off the plane, but it's better than fifty-first!"

Gene looked like he was going to cry as he thanked the woman profusely, shoving my bag at me and getting down the aisle as fast as he possibly could. As I flagged a taxi, Gene sat waiting on the phone, running a hand through his hair until whoever was on the other end picked up. "Shannon baby we landed, we're getting a cab right now, where are you?" he said anxiously. "Okay, okay, we'll be there in like thirty minutes. I know honey, I know, I know! I know, just hold on for half an hour, you're doing perfectly, just hold on, baby. Okay, the cab's here, I love you and I'll see you soon, love you!" he said as I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the cab.

"Where to?" the driver asked, squinting at us in the rear view mirror. "General Hospital. Make it fast, I'm trying to get there before my wife gives birth," Gene snapped, before leaning back on the seat, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, fuck," he whispered. I slipped an arm around his shoulders, patting him on the back reassuringly. "It'll be okay, we'll get there."