Baby Steps

The Storm- Part Two

A/N: I decided that I missed writing this universe. So I have 3 little oneshots planned for it. Here's the first one. Writing about child birth when you've never had a baby is difficult lol. But hopefully I did ok.

Vanessa's POV:

I was afraid of storms for the longest time. Until the summer before my senior year to be exact. It could seem like a coincidence that my fear of storms went away when I met Brooke, but it wasn't a coincidence at all. Not really. Brooke made the toughest storms easier, and the darkest storms brighter.

When we lived in neighboring houses, Brooke Lynn would find her way to my balcony to sneak into my room when there was a storm. She was my rainbow and I wasn't scared anymore.

Until one day, late summer when I was 24.

The day Emma was born.

I woke up insanely early, which is unlike me. I knew instantly what had woken me up. Stomach pain. Right across the middle of my belly, and down into my hips. It wasn't the worst pain I'd ever felt, but it was rather uncomfortable. It lasted for about 30-50 seconds, and then it was gone. Half hour later, it happened again, this time a little more intense, but not by much.

I'm almost at 40 weeks, I thought to myself, this must be the real deal.

I look at the clock, 3am. I glance at Brooke; she's sleeping so well. I don't want to wake her up. There's no need to anyways. Not yet.

I decide to take a shower. I turn the water on as hot as I think is appropriate and I step into the water. Relief is instant as the water warms my back. I feel my muscles relax. The baby lays a hard kick to my upper abdomen. Then another. Then she proceeds to do what can only feel like as a thousand somersaults, which makes me feel quite nauseous. I rub slow circles where I think she will feel it, something I know that will calm her down. It works, but only in time for another contraction to hit. This time was a little rougher and lasted about a minute, I leaned on the wall for support. It's going to be a long day.

I got out of the shower and dry off. After dressing, I decided to lay back down. Over the next few hours, the contractions got stronger and closer together.

By the time 6am rolled around, I felt like my stomach was being sliced open each time. The tightness, the pain, it was horrible. We were down to about twenty minutes apart. I was trying to be quiet; I didn't want to wake up Brooke before I had to. But as another contraction started, I couldn't help but let out a whimper. My wife started to stir.

"Baby?" she said, groggily, "are you ok?"

I couldn't find words, so I just held up one finger.

"Babe??"

I still couldn't say anything. Realization hit her, and her face turned from concerned to panicked in seconds.

Finally, the contraction ended as quick as it started.

"I think she's trying to make a break for it." I said, trying to add some humor.

It was a poor attempt really, but I was so tired. It had been 3 hours so far. Sweat covered my body from each contraction.

"Oh dear," Brooke said, panic rising in her voice, "oh dear, what do we do? What can I do? What do you need?"

"I want a shower. Can you help me get in the shower?" I ask, "I've already had one, but I want another."

Brook nods. Just like the first shower, it helps relax my back. She helps me dress and then we get back to the bed just in time for another contraction. 18 minutes. This one has me almost doubled over, Brooke's hand rubbing my back.