Marc rushed out of the house. He placed you in the passenger seat of his car and shut the door quickly. You pulled on the seat belt as Marc sprinted around to the other side of the car. Starting the car quickly, Marc back up out of the driveway. You picked up your phone and called the hospital, reserving a room for you when you got there. You called Shakira right afterwards.

"Hello, how's moving going, (Y/N)?"

"I'm in labor, Marc's driving me to the hospital right now," you gasped, rubbing your belly as another wave of pain hit.

"Oh my god! What happened? Did something trigger it?" Shakira asked. You could hear her in the background telling Gerard to bring the kids to a friend's house. Biting your lip nervously, you answered her question.

"Marc and I had a little screaming match before it happened," you admitted.

"Is he an idiot? I'll scold him when we get there. We're dropping them off with Toni and then coming to the hospital, see you then. Hang in there," Shakira stated. You thanked her before hanging up. There was a red light and it seemed to be taking forever. You groaned as another contraction hit.

"It's okay, it's okay. We're going to be alright, (Y/N), just breath," Marc said, sounding frantic as the light would not turn green. "C'mon, c'mon!" he shouted at the light. "Breathe, be calm, just breathe," Marc soothed you before shouting at the driver in front of you for not moving. You breathed in and out, focusing on your breathing instead of your pain. Marc quickly entered the hospital parking lot, parking the car near the entrance. He hopped out and half dragged, half carried you into the maternity wing.

"Did you call ahead?" the lady behind the desk asked, not even looking up from the computer screen as you and Marc neared the front desk.

"Yes," Marc stated, trying to right you into a semi-standing position.

"Name?"

"(Y/N) Bartra," you choked out.

"Let me check," she mused, typing something your name into the computer. "How do you spell Bartra?"

"B-a-r-t-r-a," Marc barked, getting visibly frustrated with the woman.

"Here it is. Would you like a wheelchair?"

"Yes, please," you gasped out. A woman came out from behind the desk and wheeled out a wheel chair. You sat in it as she pushed you towards your room. Marc was right next to you, letting you squeeze the life out of his hand. You arrived at your room and you told Marc to text Shakira and Gerard your room number. The nurse helped you change into a hospital gown and hooked you up to an IV.

"Do you want to use pain medication or do you want it to be natural?"

"Pain medication," you begged as another contraction hit. She nodded and went to retrieve the medication, telling you it might take a little bit to get. Marc reentered the room and pulled a chair up next to your bed.

"Shakira and Gerard are on their way, they should be here soon," he informed, rubbing your hand reassuringly. You gasped held your stomach in pain. "How do you feel?" Marc asked awkwardly.

"Like someone's stabbing me with a knife over and over again, but how's your day going, Marc?" you returned, sarcastic even through the pain. You held onto Marc's hand and the railing and squeezed tightly. You let out a burst of pain when there was a knock on the door. "Come in."

Shakira opened the door, Gerard standing behind her. She walked over to the other side of you and asked you how you were feeling. You two talked briefly before she turned an eye towards Marc, who visibly sank in his chair. Walking around to him, she smacked him in the back of the head. "Are you an idiot? Who the hell fights with a heavily pregnant woman? Did you do no research at all, Bartra?!?!" she shouted at him. Marc held the back of his head, seeming scared of the woman standing in front of him. You would have laughed if you weren't in so much pain. The nurse returned with pain killers and you calmed down a bit as they took effect.

Shakira got you a bunch of ice cubes to munch on as Gerard pulled Marc out of the room. "How are you feeling?" she asked you again.

"Better now that I have pain meds. Thanks for slapping him too, I've wanted to do that for the past few days," you chuckled to yourself.

"He deserved it and more, is the baby okay?"

"The doctor said that he's fine, the stress levels just got him excited and he decided to come a bit early," you explained, reiterating what the doctor had told you. She nodded and told you some breathing techniques when there was another knock at the door. She went to open the door. In walked a few Barcelona guys, with blue balloons.

"Where's Marc and Gerard?" Sergi asked, walking over to your bedside.

"They went for a walk, they should be back soon," Shakira replied. The boys placed the stuff around the room before saying that they would look for Gerard and Marc. Luckily, you were the only people in this wing of the hospital, less crazy fans you had to worry about. The doctor came in and checked you over, saying you were ready to push.

"Where's Marc?" you asked, looking around frantically for your husband. Sure you wanted to beat the crap out of him but you still felt like he had to be here for when you gave birth to your son. Shakira rushed out of the room and shouted down the hall for Sergi to find Marc.

"He's coming," she smiled reassuringly. You nodded as the doctor and the nurses ran around the room, preparing for the birth process. Meanwhile, Marc and Gerard sat outside the hospital, Marc with his head in his hands.

"I don't deserve her, I don't deserve any of this," he sighed, face still in his hands.

"You don't," Gerard agreed, "but, what's important right now is that you go in there and support her through this. Even if you guys get a divorce right afterwards, right now you need to go in there and be the most supportive guy she's ever met."

"They would be better off without me," Marc mumbled.

"Maybe they would be, maybe they wouldn't be. Did she ever specify that she didn't want you in there when she gave birth?"

"No, she's been too busy going through contractions. But, I'm an idiot, Gerard. I'm the one that did this to her. I'm the one that got her pregnant and I'm the one who trigger the labor. I'm a selfish douche bag who put my needs before hers and the baby's. I don't deserve to stand on the same earth she does and I don't deserve the son that she's about to give me."

"Yet, she let you stay. She didn't tell you to leave because she's scared. She's scared because she's never done this before. Neither have you. You were the one that was with her through most of this. You're like her security blanket, even if she won't admit it. You need to go up there and help her through it. I know your scared but right now make up for all the crap you put her through and support her through this," Gerard stated as Sergi rounded the corner.

"She's pushing Marc, c'mon you're going to miss it!" Sergi shouted, getting weird looks from the elderly couple that passed by him. Marc hesitated and looked at Gerard again. The centerback nodded and Marc sprinted after Sergi. Rushing into the disarray of child birth was new for Marc. And it scared him. But, for once, he would put your needs before his own.

Rushing to your side, Marc grabbed your hand. "I'm here," he said. You looked over at your husband and nodded, tears welling in your eyes. "You can do this, I believe in you." You screeched as you pushed.

"10...9....8....7.....6....5.....4.....3.....2....1," the doctor counted. You let out a puff of air before pushing again. Marc held your back as you pushed, your wedding rings glistening in the light. You screamed once more before your own scream was drowned out by that of your son's. You gasped and laid back. Marc and you looked over at the doctor you held your screaming son in his hands. You couldn't help but burst into tears of happiness.

Looking over at Marc, you were surprised to see tears trailing down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them away. You squeezed his hand as you both cried together. "Would the papa like to cut the cord?" the nurse asked. Marc looked over at you for permission. With a nod, you sent Marc over to the nurse. She handed him scissors and pointed to where to cut the cord. He snipped the scissors and the nurses left to clean your son off. They cleaned you up and changed the sheets. Shakira left to tell the boys the news. As you laid in bed, the nurse returned with the baby. "He's perfectly healthy and passed all the tests with flying colors."

She handed you your son and left. He was wrapped in a soft blue blanket. Pushing the blanket to the side, you and Marc stared down in wonder at your baby boy. His pink face was scrunch up as he whined a bit before settling down. You cooed at your baby boy. Dark hair peeked out from under his hat and he's cheeks were chubby. You could see the resemblance between him and Marc easily. You turned to your husband and handed him your son.

Marc looked shocked and scared which made you laugh a bit. "It's okay. Just put your arm right here and make sure his head is always supported by something," you instructed. Marc looked awkward for a moment before it finally sunk in. Your son yawned, opening his eyes to display blue-green eyes. Your small family was finally at peace for a moment.

Shakira led the boys into the room. "So what's his name?" she asked, smiling down at the newborn.

"I like Tomas," you told your husband. He smiled and agreed on the your son's name.

"His name is Tomas Marc Bartra (Y/L/N)," you stated, getting an appreciative look from your husband. Smiling, you looked back down at your son. "Our little Tommy."

A.N. Should I continue or is this a good place to stop?