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.
“Ok Jensen, you really are nearly done. She’s right down now. I can see that she’s going to be a blondie like me, so how about you give me a really good one with the next contraction and we’ll see if we can get this done, yeah? What do you say?” the doctor coached as she used her hands to support the skin around their daughter’s tiny blood smeared head.

Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snippets of conversation as he did. None of it made much sense and nothing could hold his attention for long. There was another contraction, more sleep and then yet another contraction. He would wake up while the pain gripped him and then fall back to sleep in between. He was vaguely aware of a hand in his when the pain was on him. He held onto that hand as to a lifeline as he thrashed in agony but was strangely oblivious to the person attached to the hand. It wasn’t until his pains began to come too close together for him to sleep in between that he realized the hand he’d been holding was Arthur’s. He dropped it like a hot coal when he became aware.
Niso held the baby's head lightly, looking up at Francis. "Keep pushing now!" Francis nodded and bore down hard. When the pain peaked, he struggled to keep his knees from buckling as the widest point of the baby's shoulders rammed into his hole. The taste of copper was heavy on his tongue. Bearing down again, Francis gasped as the shoulders rotated with the next contraction. Feeling the baby twisting itself free, he gritted his teeth and swung his fists blindly, striking the bed several times. He continued pushing and straining. "Gyaahhh..!" Francis exhaled and suddenly the pressure disappeared, the baby having slipped into Niso's waiting hands. His world was spinning and he swayed on his hands and knees. "N-Niso?"
Niso grabbed Francis and laid him back down. "It won't stop unless you start pushing Francis!" He said, narrowing his eyes at him now. "So push!" He ordered harshly, gritting his teeth now. Francis choked back a half sob. No sensation like this had ever been inflicted on his body before; everything hurt. His eyes snapped open abruptly to what had to be the hardest set of contractions yet. "Gyahhhhh..!" He wailed then bore down with a loud grunt of pain. A horrific pain burned in his anus and his chest seized but he continued pushing. He could feel the ring of pressure building between his cheeks. Still panting raggedly, Francis wrenched his thighs apart and drove his chin to his chest. He pushed, hard, screaming profanities when a small, gory head bulged out of his stretched anus. Niso moved to in between Francis' legs, looking between them and biting his lip as he sees the head bulging his anus. "Keep pushing, it's crowning!" He said, biting his lip as he gripped Francis' knees, spreading them apart even more. While he watched, Niso suddenly realized that he'd never actually assisted in a birth before but had given birth twice. He chewed the inside of his lip as Francis continued laboring, hoping against hope that nothing will go wrong.
“Of course, sweetheart, anything.” He jumped to his feet and said, “I’ll be right back.” Rushing into the kitchen, Jared fumbled through the drawers, throwing on the floor what he didn’t need in search for a water bottle. He figured if he filled a giant water bottle, he wouldn’t have to leave Jensen’s side for water again. With his contractions becoming closer and closer together, he didn’t want to miss one and make Jensen go through it alone.
“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.
Niso put his hands between Francis' legs, holding the baby's head now. "Keep pushing Francis." He urged him, looking into the murky water where the baby's head was. The water had gotten more pink from the birth fluids coming out."Push, Francis." He said, looking up at him now with a frown. "You're doing it." He said, reaching up and rubbing at Francis' contracting stomach, feeling the muscles stain under his touch.

When the pool was finally filled, the taps shut off automatically, and Laura began undressing herself. She dropped her sweatpants and wet panties to the ground and pulled her white shirt off. She left her bra on to keep her swollen breasts from sagging onto her belly. She slowly went down the steps into the water, clutching her belly. She wasn’t nervous about giving birth alone, since she found herself immune to pain her whole life, though, she had to admit, these contr

“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.
 Not Your Typical PrisonerThe gavel came down with a loud thud. "The defendant, Jonathan Randoll, is sentenced to a 16 year prison sentence without chance of parole." I looked at my feet thinking of the life that would be wasted. At only 18, I wouldn't get out until I was 34 years old. It all started when I was growing up in a tough neighborhood. Desperate for protection, I joined a gang and was forced to do some initiation crimes. Over time I had been caught stealing and this was the third strike, meaning that I was not going to be spared when it came to sentencing. I knew I had to keep my poker face, though, because some of the gang members were in the courtroom and I couldn't show my fear, my frustration with where my life had gone.

He knew he was screaming, knew he wasn’t making sense, and certainly knew he wasn’t being a man about this but he didn’t care. All he could think about was the pain in his uterus, his back, and most alarmingly, in his penis and balls. He couldn’t see them over his gravid belly but he knew they must be swollen to the point of absurdity by the way everything down there felt like it was going to explode and not in a good way.
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