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.
It had been a few hours since they took Tina and all she could do was whimper against her wall. She tried ignoring it and tried to rest, but she was becoming more and more uncomfortable as the pain became stronger. She moaned, using the wall to lean upon as she rocked back and forth. Swaying like this helped somewhat, but she could feel the child slowly dropping deeper onto her cervix. The pressure was unbearable and she cried out as a sudden gush of liquid came from between her legs. "Oh God, nooo.." She groaned through her contraction, clenching her eyes against the pain. When she opened them she was horrified to see the men standing standing before her cell. "What'd I tell you," the previous male said, nudging those close to him with his elbow, "We get two today." She tried to say something back, but was overcome with pain as another contraction came. "Uuggnn.." She grunted, unconsciously spreading her legs wide to birth her first child. She trashed as they neared her, attempting to flee from them and inflict any pain she could. Her efforts were fruitless though as they lifted her and carried her out of her cell. She was thankful for that at least. Standing was becoming a chore. She wanted to kneel, to bend over, anything to ease the fire in her back.
Merlin doubted it. He gazed down at his son in fascination. It occurred to him to be thankful he hadn’t grown actual breasts while he was pregnant. He wasn’t sure how much his masculinity could endure, carrying a child was bad enough but breasts would have probably tipped him over the edge. He had lost all of his chest hair but that seemed a small price to pay.
When an hour later, Tom finally came out to the ER, covered in Jensen’s blood, and told him Jensen was stable and going to be just fine, Jared had buried his head in brother’s shoulder and started sobbing all over again. After being ushered into his still unconscious husband’s hospital room, they brought in little baby Mason, who despite initial worries about being born three weeks early, was a perfectly healthy baby boy. The relief he felt at knowing his family was going to be okay, was staggering and he’d become so lightheaded and dizzy that he nearly passed out. Thankfully, Tom ushered him to a seat next before he fainted.
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.
On the other hand, it felt so fucking good. He’d not been aware enough – or too focused on other agonies elsewhere – to realize they’d put some sort of pump on his cock and it was milking him like a farmer’s hand late for a date. At some point the nurse, the one who never had wiped that stupid grin off her face, had started gently massaging his swollen balls and it was both the best and worst sensation ever.
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