What We Found | Fillie

To be a Family II

"Finn!" Millie shouts this time, finally getting Finn to stop his rambling.

"Huh? What—what the—" His face scrunches as he brings his hand up from under the blanket to examine it, having felt a warm and somewhat unpleasant foreign substance leak onto it.

Millie answers the question he didn't know to ask, "Yeah, I-I think my water broke."

His eyes turn into saucers, looking from his hand to the bed to Millie's dilated eyes before he can relay the only two words that manage to find their way to his trembling lips, "Oh, fuck."

Millie laughs from high in her chest, "Uh-huh, what? Oh fuck? Really Finn? What happened to oh come on Millie, don't you want to have her out, we're ready?" she mocks him in her well-practiced Finn voice that lacks her homeland's accent and comes from deep in her throat to mimic the deeper sound.

Finn shakes his head sharply and his voice cracks with his abrupt panic, "I was a child then! A dreamy eyed kid who knew nothing! Now I'm a man needing to—shit— I don't know what I need to do! Tell me what I need to do! Why are you suddenly so calm?!" He jumps out of the bed and wipes his hand on a dry section of their duvet then looks to Millie to tell him what to do, think, and feel, because right now, he finds his brain to be completely useless.

But she just stares at him with empathetic eyes, and maybe just a hint of amusement. What happened to her panic? What happened to her overthinking? What, did her water break and suddenly she's just fine and completely ready? Did her water breaking somehow dismantle her apprehension? Because how in the world does that make any sort of logical sense? And how does freaking out about her not freaking out make sense? And just like that, Finn's mind is crashing like an old school computer with too many programs open until—

"Babe?" Millie says calmly.

Finn stills himself then drags his hands down his face before wrapping them around the back of his neck, "Yeah?" his voice is embarrassingly small.

"First, take a breath, love." she says, trying to coax a calm out of him, which, in her defense, is something she's pretty talented at.

He follows her direction and breathes in. Holds it. And then lets in back out.

"Good." Millie praises with a smile, "Now get the bags please and load the car, I'll call my mum then I'm going to nip to the shower real quick, I need to rinse this off—don't question me on that," she says, holding up a finger because he, admittedly, was about to rebut the idea, "I'll meet you out front in ten—oh ow!" she stops, her first contraction ripping across her abdomen, tightening her stomach and doubling her over in the bed. 

Seeing Millie in pain wipes Finn's mind of his panic and he bounds to her side, the things they learned in their private birthing class coming back to him in small flashes.

"Time—I-I need to time these." He stutters.

Millie gives him a pained nod.

The panicked twenty-one-year-old whips his phone out and notes the hour and minute then offers his hand but Millie shakes her head at it as she grips the blankets at her sides.

It seems to pass as she pushes air out through her pursed lips, "Okay. . .not so bad. . .that wasn't so bad."

"Okay. . . Okay, I'm going to get the bags. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?"

She waves off the offer and carefully rolls out of bed, "Leave all that please," she gestures to the liquid that saturated their sheet and is now leaking down her leg onto the floor, "We'll deal with it later."