Cursed Fate

Chapter 99- down and down, down the rabbit hole

HOBI POV:

I slump down exhausted, feeling the last bit of energy leave me as I sink down, barely feeling the pair of arms that dart out to stabilise me, that hold me upright and supported by a solid firm back.

"It's okay hyung, I've got you." Kookie's voice comes out firm and gentle and soft, supporting me as I sag against him, finding that I have no strength to keep myself up anymore.

I was exhausted, it clung to me and tugged me down and seeped into my bones and yet still I forced my eyes open, to peer at our soulmate, to assure myself she was fine.

(Y/N)'s eyes are shut, chest rising and falling far too slowly for my liking, the shaky pained sounds of her breathing beginning to level out now that the labour was over, now that our baby was born.

And all the energy levels I'd directed to her, to keep her stable and healthy and safe during labour at some point had dipped into my own personal reserves, part of the energy that made me and I was paying for it through the feeling of an achy body and stuffed head, eyes trying to close and body desperately pleading for rest.

But it was worth it.

But I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

Because we'd come so close to losing her, to losing our soulmate, our wife and I didn't know what to do except try keep her stabilised as the pain grew, as the contractions became frequent but it was so, so hard for her to push, for her to birth our third baby.

And I couldn't forget the feeling of her broken cries, how the strength and courage that were ever-present in her voice, trail off and leave and she'd sobbed for it to be over, sobbed as she clutched at Jin hyung's hand- his touch sending out pulses of calming energy and the other in mine, her grip tight and clenching and steadily losing strength, losing energy for all that I was sending to her and her eyes had fluttered shut- unable to stay awake, stay conscious through the labour, through the pain.

And my eyes fall to her, to her unconscious figure which had pushed everyone in the delivery room into a panic, into a frenzy because she was unresponsive, because for all that she was having contractions, our baby couldn't come out of their unconscious mother.

And remember the horrific feeling of drowning, of being lost when the doctor said we'd have to have a caesarean, that the safest quickest way now was to operate to get our baby out and to keep (Y/N)'s vitals stabilised and steady using machines.

The agonising torture as we were escorted out, as the doors shut on us and we could only wait helplessly, drowning and suffocating in the feelings of fear and panic and horror- waiting to hear what happened to our wife, to our youngest soulmate.

And the feeling of profound crashing relief when what felt like lifetimes later the doctor had emerged, seen our small huddle of bodies- desperately latching on and seeking out comfort and given us a weary tired smile.

"Both mother and daughter are safe. It was a long risky process but we got there." She says smiling, taking in the tears spilling over and sounds of shuddery breathing and sobs as we clutched at each other, as we scrambled to our feet and rushed to her.

To where we were now.

To standing inside a hospital room and seeing our beautiful bold soulmate lie there with shut eyes, changed and cleaned and blankets drawn over her, resting on her stomach. Like this she looked like she was sleeping, like she'd taken a few moments to close her eyes and rest. But the dark circles under her eyes, the dried tear stains and the weariness that seemed to cling to her form told another different story entirely.