He was right. Who knew if the snipers were still there or not? Bending over, he allowed John's arm about his neck as he got him to his feet before beginning the agonizingly slow walk to the dressing rooms. It seemed that John could only walk so far before having to stop to breathe through contractions that were now right on top of each other. And it hurt Sherlock nearly as much to see John in that much pain. Why Omegas chose to do this at all seemed completely illogical to him... Desperate to ease some of the pain, he pulled John close to him; letting his head rest against his chest and swaying together until John decided to move again. And from the look on John's face, it was the best thing he could have done. It was during one of these 'dances' that Shelock was alarmed to discover that John was now trembling under his touch even though he couldn't possibly be cold.
Glancing back, Sherlock gave a quick look at John who looked rather pained while doing all he could to stay calm. But of course John had a lot more to worry about. Instinctively, his arm was wrapped protectively around the large bump that contained his and Sarah's second child; a girl this time. She had already faced death three times in the past few minutes (once being his own fault...) and she wasn't even born yet; he wasn't about to let her face it again.
Her stomach cramped as if answering Tina's cries. She whimpered softly, "No, not yet." The sound of unlocking doors caught her attention and she tried to stand, to be defiant in the face of those who held her key to freedom. However, the way her back was gnawing her today, she could only lean against her cool walls. A group of her kinappers walked past her cell towards the wailing woman. Only one stopped before her. His sly eyes looked her up in down, studying her. A sickening smile came to his face when he noticed the pain in her eyes. "Not so snappy today, eh?" She smirked, "Maybe you'll be like your friend down there." He thrust his head in Tina's direction, laughing at the horror which spread of her face. He walked on cackling and she thrashed against her short chains, enraged and terrified. How could anyone do this to her? She bit back a cry as another contraction rippled across her belly. They were coming closer together and getting stronger. "Nonono.." she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't want to have this baby! Her body ignored her pleas, however, and as time dragged on her labor progressed.
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.
Jared would have laughed at the irony, except the situation wasn’t funny at all. Throughout the whole pregnancy, Jared had been the calm one, the one to provide reassurances when things were going bad, the one who always knew what to say. Now when it really mattered, when the moment of truth stormed in on them, and their baby was demanding to be introduced to the world, Jared was the one freaking out and relying on Jensen for reassurance.
Her stomach was even larger than it had been the day before. However, rather than the fleshy, round beach ball it had been it was more of an oblong shape, her belly button jutting out boldly like the cork on a wine bottle. Tia frowned thoughtfully as this, running her fingers across her tummy gently. The skin was still taut and smooth, but very firm to t
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.
"Lay one of the towels...on the floor..." was the next instruction from John, his breathing deepening as the next urges started to build. Sherlock had just managed to spread the towel out when John could no longer fight and gave into the urge to push, his body on autopilot now as it directed his actions. Instinctively, his hands reached for Sherlock's arms and sensing that this was what John needed now more than anything, he allowed John's fingers to squeeze painfully tight into his shoulders. John's green eyes then match up with his own gray ones and lock, showing unrelenting focus for nearly a full minute as he forced the baby further down.
"Fuck you!" The girl spat, forcing herself not to give into her urge to push. The men around her laughed as she fell back against her bed panting. She couldn't stop nature though and she grunted as her vagina bulged out, the opening becoming a tear-drop shape. The men cheered watching the opening become wider with each contraction until finally the head was crowned. The woman before her massaged her lips to help them stretch as the baby's head pushed further out. The woman frowned as the girl screamed. The head was bigger than she expected. She pushed the girl's lips away from the head ordering her to push harder. "Uuuaagg!" She cried out, her face reddening from effort. "OH it burns! It burns!" She cried as the infants head stretched her wide. Her hair stuck to her sweat coated skin and she bore down. She tore as the eyes and nose were pushed out. She screamed in pain as her blood flowed mixing with the amniotic fluids which spurted around her child.
It wasn’t long, barely 8 minutes since the last one, before another contraction forced a strangled moan from Jensen, his head falling towards his chest, face scrunched up in pain. “Breathe, honey, don’t hold your breath,” Jared coached him through it. He fell back against the pillows, a slight hitch in his breathing. Jared comfortingly ran his free hand through Jensen’s hair.
Mpreg PrisonsA teenager male, Harold, was sent to prison for stealing. He was 22 years old and would get out at 25 years old. He had a boring life in his prison cell with 5 other guys. Some weren't very nice but some were. He often got into fights with the mean ones but were stopped by the guards. One day, the groups were outside working out when Harold went to sit on a bench in the corner. He saw a figure move behind the building so he went to check it out. Someone from behind blocked his mouth with a cloth sending him unconscious. He woke up in his cell with the others. Everything was normal, the people, his clothes, him. He thought it was a dream and he didn't care much. As 2 months passed he grew tired everyday, his muscles were sore, he felt sick. He didn't know what was going on so he told a guard he may need to get checked out since he wasn't his usual self. They sent a doctor to him and a guard was also sent just in case. Harold heard his results that he was already 2 months pregnant. He wa
Sherlock's heart lept into his throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. John's due due was still three weeks away and he had already from day one made perfectly clear that he didn't want to be anywhere near when 'it' decided to make its appearance. "I...I'll drive you to St. Bart's..." he stammered, unsuccessfully hiding the trace of fear in his voice.
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.
The storm raged outside. The wind howled as it snuck in through the cracks in the wood, and whipped around the house. Thunder rippled through the air and lightning streaked across the sky. The rain beat against the window. He could hear water pouring out of the gutters. He held Jensen’s hand with both of his, knuckles close to his lips as he rocked slowly back and forth.
Staring at the tiny being in his hands, Sherlock seemed in shock, almost unsure of what he had just witnessed. Then as its face scrunched and let out a tiny cry, he could feel his breath catch. She was actually here. The thing that Sarah and John had made together, that once gray bean in the sonogram photo on Mrs. Hudson's fridge, the creation that had sent John into the most interesting cravings and mood swings (he had analyzed every single one), was a living, breathing person...
Birthing Chambers Ep. 3It had now been almost three weeks since I had been captured. About two and a half weeks since I found the Birthing Chamber. I was now about halfway through the gestation period of the Queen S'Tencha growing inside my womb. And, though inhuman, I was becoming very attached to the creature. Because I was giving it my life, I felt it was almost a part of me... something that depended on me.
“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.