Gentle hands eased him back in the bed, Arthur’s hands. Those same hands propped pillows behind him, helped him to sit up then gathered their son from his cradle and carefully passed him to Merlin. It wasn’t until the baby was in his arms that Merlin realized just how profoundly weak he still was. He could barely lift his arms up to hold his son. He trembled with the effort and felt a tear roll down his cheek. He made a pathetic mother.

Gentle hands eased him back in the bed, Arthur’s hands. Those same hands propped pillows behind him, helped him to sit up then gathered their son from his cradle and carefully passed him to Merlin. It wasn’t until the baby was in his arms that Merlin realized just how profoundly weak he still was. He could barely lift his arms up to hold his son. He trembled with the effort and felt a tear roll down his cheek. He made a pathetic mother.


The slightest of smiles crossed Jim's face. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." he said before returning to his phone call. "So if you have what you say you have," he said back to the person on the cell phone as he proceeded to calmly walk out of the room. "I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes..." And with a snap of his fingers, the snipers disappeared and it was all over.
A mostly quiet birthHer nurses' uniform had grown tight over the last nine months, but somehow she'd managed to squeeze her girth into the white dress. She stood at the emergency room counter, watching as a woman about her size was wheeled in, hissing and panting. It was obvious the woman was in labour, her partner panicking beyond belief as he followed along beside her.
He couldn’t remember any more words after that. Just the pain and the struggle and the warm, strong bulk at his back. It held him up, rocking with him as he fought to push his baby out. The voice was there, he could remember hearing it but there were no more words, just the soothing tone of it. Merlin fought with all he had to stay awake, to strain, to push. Finally one last push and a scream of effort and it was done. He could hear his son crying and he sagged back against the warm, firm cradle of the body behind him and knew no more.
School teacher birthShe, Becky, looked out the window as the storm grew. She worried about her students well-being since the principle was very stern about them not being able to go home until the weather cleared. She and her friend teacher, Carl, watched as some of her students, the kids mostly, hid in a corner from the thunder. A small girl was in her lap clinging to her hugely pregnant belly and the others were restless and near panic as the thunder clapped loudly sending the power out and several loud screams. "Everyone please come over here." She said moving over to the story time mat. Her students quickly huddled to her clinging to her tightly. Carl huddled his students around protectively. "It's all going to be fine." He said stroking some of the tiny hands clinging to him. "Shhh shh... Don't cry. Your all going to be fine." They tried to calm the small children as they whimpered. Becky winced some stroking her contracting stomach. 'Just wait... please...' She thought to her unborn child. "Teachew.
“I can do that.” He ran up the stairs shedding his shirt as he went, leaving it somewhere in the hallway. He was halfway out of his sweatpants by the time he stepped into his room. He left them in a pile on the floor with his underwear. Throwing things out of his dresser until he found a clean pair of sweatpants, Jared didn’t even care about the huge mess he was making. He grabbed the closest shirt, threw it over his head, and was already snatching the equipment Jensen asked for and an extra shirt for Jensen, before the shirt was even pulled all the way down. Flying down the stairs two at a time, Jared rushed back to his husband’s side.

When he woke, he was back in Arthur’s bed. He opened his eyes and glanced around. He wanted his son, the urge to hold him, to see him, was overwhelming. Before he could begin to panic though, his eyes fell on the cradle beside the bed, and he leaned over the side in order to get his first glimpse. All he could see was a tuft of golden hair and a wrinkled little face. He nearly fell off the bed trying to scramble out of it.
As soon as the scalpel finished its mutilation, he registered the sensation of the vacuum being placed on his daughters head, the movements tearing his already brutalized opening. The doctor started pulling without even waiting for a contraction and the hands were back on his belly, crushing his insides without care. Each compression sent another flash of agony through his anatomy but he couldn’t do anything other than scream for mercy.
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