“Spitfire?” Syrus asks, his hands around my biceps to keep me upright.
“Okay,” Leena says. “You’re going to see mommy.”
“Yeah,” I breathe.
It takes another thirty minutes to change, get Leena settled (which included a change of clothes), and to make sure that the bedtime routine won’t be fucked up before I can get into a vehicle.
By this point, I can’t even talk because I’m in so much pain.
“Let’s go,” Harlan barks out.
Syrus puts on his lights in the SUV, and pulls out of the driveway. We packed a “go bag” for the hospital yesterday, mostly because Harlan had a weird feeling. As someone who lives by her gut, I told him to do it.
“I’m…sorry,” I gasp, holding Izzy’s hand as another cramp hits me.
“No reason for that here,” Kyren murmurs. “We’re not far from the hospital. Your job is to just be, Princess. Syrus knows how to avoid all the traffic.”
“Fuck the traffic,” Syrus growls, making my lips twitch. “How long have you been having contractions, Spitfire?”
“All day,” I wail. “I just didn’t think it was real. I thought they were the fake ones. What are they called?”
“Braxton Hicks,” Harlan grunts. “There’s no reason that you wouldn’t have thought that when you’ve had them off and on. We’re fine.”
Nodding, I force myself to breathe.
“Leena will never stop telling people you peed on the couch,” Izzy murmurs, making me laugh.
“Oh my god. She might start telling people that Silvapeedon her!” Kyren exclaims.
They keep me laughing the entire way to the hospital, even through contractions that bring tears to my eyes.
“This sucks,” I groan. “I can’t get out. What if the baby just falls right out of my vagina?”
“I’ll carry you,” Syrus says once we’re parked.
“You’re also in pants,” Izzy says calmly as the doors are opened. “The pants will keep the baby from going too far. I think it’s better if Syrus carries you.”
“Voted and passed,” Harlan grunts.
“Why is the state of my vagina now a democratic vote?” I wail, working through another contraction.
“So I can hold you, of course,” Syrus says smoothly, opening my door and picking me up.
“I didn’t even have bloody discharge. How the fuck is this happening?” I growl, wrapping my arms around Syrus’ neck.
“You’re just lucky,” Kyren says, shutting the door.
At this point, I think that if I said the sky was purple, they’d find a way to agree with me. The sun is shining at about four in the afternoon, it is not purple, and ah, fuck me!
Burying my nose in Syrus’ neck, I breathe in his familiar scent as they rush me into the lobby.
“She’s in active labor. Can we go up?” Izzy asks the person at the desk.
“Yes. What’s her name?”
Looking up, I meet the woman’s gaze and she recognizes me immediately.
“Nevermind. Silva, I’ll let the nurses know you’re on your way up with your pack. Congratulations,” she says.
