[Fanfiction] Oregon, part 2/?
Title: Oregon, part two
Author/Artist: lokichan2004
Character(s) or Pairing(s): England/America
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: LIVE BIRTH, look away if that isn't your cup of tea or coffee. Also human names, but this should be the least of your problems with this chapter.
Summary: Oregon was born a bit premature.
Dinner in the Jones household was a chaotic affair, and one that Arthur was eager to forget. The older states helped them with meal preparation and getting the younger ones ready. It was loud and messy, and Arthur couldn’t help but notice how Alfred seemed to wilt as the night wore on, rubbing constantly at his back. Dinner was only one third of the night’s equation, for after that they had to first clean up, and then get the children ready and into bed. It was close to 9PM by the time they were done, and they were both exhausted. Alfred was already dozing on the couch when Arthur nudged him.
“Alfred. It’s time for bed.” Alfred groaned and tried to swat the Englishman’s hand away.
“Mnnh. Go away.” Arthur sighed and took Alfred’s hand and pulled.
“Up, you great git. You need to sleep in a proper bed.” Alfred sighed dramatically and opened his eyes.
“Help me up, then.” Arthur took his other hand and pulled with all his strength as Alfred levered himself off the couch. The American groaned as several vertebrae popped loudly in his back as he straightened his spine, and Arthur grimaced.
“Doesn’t that hurt?” he asked, and Alfred shook his head.
“Feels good, and my back has been cramping a lot lately. Get the lamp, would you?” Arthur nodded and turned off the oil lamp, and together they went to bed, Alfred’s hand creeping into Arthur’s and squeezing.
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Something woke Arthur several hours later from a deep sleep, but in his sleep-addled mind he couldn’t place what it was, or where it was coming from.
“Probably one of the children,” he thought, rolling onto his side, and froze as his hand came into contact with something wet and cold. He turned his eyes toward Alfred, and his eyes widened as he connected the dots. Alfred was turned away from him and was shaking, like a leaf in a gale. Arthur now realized that the noise he’d heard moments earlier was the sound of Alfred’s muffled whimpering.
“Alfred?” He put a hand on the American’s shoulder, and Alfred flinched. Arthur gently rolled him over onto his back, and then reality set in. “God and the Queen. You’re in labor.” Alfred nodded shakily and bit his lip. In the thin light of the moon slanting in through the window Arthur could see a sheen of sweat on Alfred’s face, soaking his hair and leaving his night shirt clinging to his skin. His hands were settled protectively on the swell of his stomach.
“It’s too soon,” he was muttering rapidly to himself, his voice high and tight. “Too soon, it shouldn’t be for another six weeks, Oh God-“
“Calm down,” Arthur said, in a voice that would brook no argument. “I’m going to boil water and get towels-“ Alfred groaned and clenched his eyes shut, his knuckles going white as he twisted his night shirt in his hands.
“Hurry…please…” he ground out through pursed lips, and Arthur nodded, giving Alfred’s hand a brief squeeze before hurrying from the room. He had put a pot of water to boil on the stove and was just grabbing all the towels he could find when he bumped into Vermont, who was sleepily rubbing her eyes.
“Vermont, I have a task for you,” Arthur said in a rush, his voice quiet so as not to wake the other children. “Go to the kitchen and keep an eye on the pot. Let me know when the water comes to a boil. Can you do that for me?”
“What’s going on?” she asked groggily, her eyes lighting on the stack of towels in Arthur’s arms. “Is father having the baby?”
“Yes, and I need you to help me. Keep an eye on the water, and don’t let any of your siblings come into the room until Oregon gets here. Alright?” Vermont nodded, her eyes wide. “Good girl. Get Mississippi or Maine to help you.” He pecked her on the forehead and hurried back to Alfred’s bedroom. Alfred lay sweaty and exhausted in the lamplight, and he glared slightly at Arthur as he came inside, shutting the door behind him.
“What took you so long?” he asked, wincing through the pain of another contraction. Arthur hurried over to him and set the towels on the bed.
“Vermont was out of bed, and I told her to keep an eye on the water downstairs.”
“What about the other children?”
“As far as I know they’re still in bed.” Arthur mopped the sweat from Alfred’s brow tenderly with the corner edge of a towel. “I told her to keep watch on them as well, and to get help from the two eldest girls if she needed it.” Alfred nodded and offered Arthur his hand.
“Help me up.” Arthur looked at it quizzically.
“Up-?”
“I can’t deliver on my back,” the American explained. “I tried it with Kentucky and it hurt like a son of a bitch.”
“I don’t remember that,” Arthur said as he helped Arthur first into a sitting position, and then onto his knees.
“That’s because you weren’t there,” Alfred groaned low in the back of his throat, bowing his head to his chest. A hurt look passed over Arthur’s face. He wanted to be there when Alfred gave birth to his children, but he was a vast empire, and his lands needed tending. He could count on one hand the number of times he had been present to hold his sons and daughters as they emerged into the world.
“I’m here,” Arthur whispered into Alfred’s sweaty hair. “It doesn’t make up for the births that I missed, but I’m here now.”
“Save the apologies for later, Arthur,” Alfred snapped, slowly sliding forward onto his hands and knees. He canted his hips back, folded his hands together on the bed and dropped his forehead onto them. “Just get this kid out of me!” Arthur nodded, and just at that moment Vermont popped her head into the doorway.
“The water is boiling, Uncle Arthur,” she said quietly, her wide eyes fixed on Alfred. “Father…” Alfred turned his head and flashed his oldest daughter a wavering smile.
“Don’t worry, princess,” he said softly. “Everything will be fine; go and help Arthur.” Vermont bit her lip and nodded, bounding forward and kissing her father on the cheek. He smiled in return and watched as two of the most important people in his life walked out of the room. No sooner had Arthur and Vermont reached the kitchen than there came a shout from upstairs that made the Englishman’s blood run cold. “ARTHUR!”
Both he and Vermont froze, eyes wide. With a pat on the back and a terse command to the young state to stay put, Arthur turned and bolted back up the stairs to the bedroom. By now several of the children were standing in the hallway, blearily rubbing their eyes. Arthur breezed past them and stepped into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. On the bed Alfred lay doubled over, blankets bunched tight in his fists, his face flushed and contorted in a rictus of pain. Arthur flew to his side, one arm wrapping around his shoulders as the other smoothed his hair from his face.
“Get a towel,” Alfred gasped, his breathing harsh. “This is going to be quick.”
“Oh God.” Arthur breathed, his limbs suddenly numb. “Oh, my God.” Arthur was no stranger to childbirth; he had helped deliver Tennessee, Ohio and Maine, but they had all been full-term. None of Alfred’s children had been born this early. He grabbed a towel and took up position behind Alfred and waited. He didn’t have to wait long - Alfred gritted his teeth and bore down, choking on a scream of pain as Oregon’s head stretched the ring of muscle. One push, then two; Arthur waited with baited breath as Alfred pushed a third time, a hoarse, strangled yell tearing from his throat as Oregon slid into his father’s hands in a torrent of blood and amniotic fluid, and then---nothing.
Thankfully I learned my lesson and saved this in Word, so if LJ eats this again I won't have to type it out again. In this story I didn't write the original thirteen as Alfred's kids - they all became states way too close together to have been born naturally, so in my head the original 13 were found, the way Al and Matt were. Al and the states grew up together, even though Al grew faster somehow, and the states took his last name when they got statehood.
Vermont calls Arthur 'Uncle' because calling him Arthur seemed too informal for a child of this era, while Mr. Kirkland or England seemed *too* formal. Plus, Arthur is Alfred's older brother, so he would be her uncle, I guess.