#AUGH i have such a long fucking day ahead oml.

[autism-corner]

augh i thought my headphone was 100% but it ran out halfway through my travel... and i wont be home again till at least 1 AM =-=

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

Baby Madness

Killer x reader, Kid Pirates, Pregnant!reader

Warning: Cursing and confused Kid

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This started as a silly drabble oml

++++++++++

Killer wrapped himself around you, even with the swell of stomach his long arms circled all the way around. These moments were rare, sitting quietly in bed and just basking in each other’s presence and warmth. A slight twinge of pain shot through making you flinch and Killer quickly jerked his head up.

“You okay?” he asked. Being so close to your due date he’d been even jumpier than usual. Every twitch you gave had him dashing to your side ready to go.

“It’s fine, I’ve still got another week,” you said, rubbing his arms affectionately. “I’ve read that false alarm contractions are pretty common as you get closer.”

You could feel Killer’s whole body loosen as he settled against the pillow, setting his chin back onto your shoulder. He still looked a bit nervous as he said, “If you say so, but if you feel anything else you tell me immediately okay?”

You turn and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I promise Noodle. Besides, we’ll be at the next island in a day or two. We’ll find the doctor there and everything will be fine.”

             He nodded against your shoulder, arms tightening just enough to give a slight pressure without squeezing the baby, “Okay, everything will be fine,” he repeats, almost more to himself than to you. He’d been very precise with the navigator that when your labor started, you’d all be settled on an island with a doctor and not giving birth on the ship. The Victoria Punk was a majestic boat that had survived several battles but it was certainly not the hygienic, safe environment in which to bring a newborn infant.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured again.

+++++

“You have the stopwatch with you right?” Killer asked as he readjusted the helmet on his head. It’s morning now and he knows there’s plenty of duties he needs to get done, more so if he wants to get ahead of schedule enough to dedicate all his time to you at the next island.

“Yep, really Killer I’m telling you fake contractions are very normal,” you said. Killer had been tenacious in his studies as soon as he found out you were pregnant, bringing back piles of books and reading them through with you, sometimes making notes and underlining important topics in the pages. It was really very sweet but it had also quickly become overbearing. You knew he was just worried though, if anything you’d swear he was the one having a baby, not you.

“Okay but if you feel it again, time it, and if it’s five to seven minutes-“

“I’ll come and find you immediately,” you finish for him. “Killer don’t worry so much, we’ve got it all planned out.” You reached up to place a peck against his mask, his hands going to your stomach subconsciously. “Go be first mate, get stuff done. Me and the little munchkin will be here resting up.”

Killer sighed as his shoulders slumped in defeat, “Yes babe.” He’s worried true, but right now his heart feels full, the woman he loves carrying his child, things he thought he’d never have in his life and he’s thankful for them every day.

+++++

             You were settled in comfortably, reading one of the dozens of baby books that littered the nightstand. There had been a couple more ‘contractions’ and it was a little odd to be having this many so early. Checking all the chapters on early labor hadn’t made you feel much better, but your pregnancy had always been on calendar. You were practically a text book example, hitting each new checkpoint exactly when the books had said, so labor would still be a week away at least.

             The rumble that came from your belly pulled you from your thoughts, it had been a few hours already since Killer started working. Maneuvering awkwardly to your feet, you padded from the cabin down the hallway toward the kitchen. When you had reached your door, a sharp pain split through your abdomen. That definitely wasn’t hunger, were fake contractions supposed to be that strong? You shoved the worries aside, chalking it up to the hungry baby inside you.

Heat and Kid were doing dishes in the kitchen, well, Heat mostly as Kid halfheartedly dried them. You were considering what to get for a snack before another contraction hit, this one strong enough to stop you in your tracks.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

You clutched the side of the door frame as another splitting pain shot through your abdomen. Heat turned to look in concern, your groan drawing his attention. Sweat was beading on your brow and before you can catch your breath a sudden pressure dropped onto your lower back. Warmth spread and the sound of splashing reached your ears as your eyes widened in horror.

“Oh fuck…” Heat murmured.

Kid turned now too, only to make a face of disgust seeing the water spilling from your body, “Oh my god, did you just piss all over the floor? That’s fucking disgusting!”

You take a steadying breath before spitting back, “My water just broke you asshat!”

“Oh,” is all he manages, face dawning into comprehension as Heat rushed to your side. He throws down a dish towel on the spill and helps you into a chair.

“I’ll get Killer” he says as he rushes out.

Kid looked completely at a loss now, dishes abandoned as a very pregnant woman was still slightly dripping on the chair, and visibly trembling in pain.

“Uh- “he started, “Um, what should I- do you need anything like-“

“Kid” you cut him off mercifully, “just come here and hold my hand.”

“Yup,” he practically jumped to your side, careful to avoid the now damp towel on the floor and grabbed your hand with his human one.

“Just this?” he asked.

“Yes, just that.”

You settled down slightly, starting into the breathing techniques you and Killer had practiced countless times. In and out, in and out, long slow breaths. Kid fidgeted next to you, unsure how to help, and found himself talking again in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“So uh, how long do I need to do this? You just like,” he made a vague motion with his metal hand, “pop it out right?”

“Kid.”

“Yeah huh?”

“Just, just shut the fuck up and let me breathe.”

Kid was saved from snapping back by Killer who nearly slammed into the doorframe to catch himself. He’s panting hard, even through the mask, with Heat right on his tail.

“Is it happening!?” he demands.

Kid turned to his friend, more than happy to pass off this responsibility, “I think so? I mean one second she’s fine, the next sh-shit ow!” the audible crack of finger bones breaking startles him as you squeeze his hand through a particularly intense contraction. Kid’s cursing nearly drowned out your own pained moan before he slammed the metal hand against the table.

“Fuck let go! I’ve only got one good hand left!” he screamed. As the pain passed you release his hand, which he yanks to himself, shooting a glare at you. Killer replaced him in a second, shoving Kid to the side much to his annoyance.

“How long between contractions?” he asked, voice frantic but obviously excited.

A few more calming breaths, you hadn’t really timed yourself this time but it seemed like the was a decent gap, “Not sure…I think, eight minutes? Maybe?”

He’s already whipped out his own stopwatch, “Okay, just let me know and I’ll time it, how are you feeling? Is it bad yet?”

You can’t help but chuckle in relief, Killer really was prepared for anything, “It’s bearable, we’ve still got some time-“

“Are we going to ignore that you crushed all my fingers just now?” Kid demanded.

Killer’s mask whipped around, ready to reprimand him, but you place a hand to his shoulder, wordlessly backing him down. You turned to Kid and locked eyes with him.

“Listen to me very carefully,” you said, and Kid flinched at the seriousness of your voice.

“I don’t think you understand what is happening right now,” you said, “What I’m about to do is essentially the equivalent of shitting a watermelon and even before that happens, even before I shit a goddamn watermelon Kid, I get to sit here and feel my insides rip themselves open slowly for at least six hours. And it’s just six hours if I’m lucky. So do you really wanna bitch about your bruised fingers right now? Right now?”

Kid opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything to say before closing it again with a stupefied look on his face. After about a minute of absorbing this horrifying knowledge he just nods his head.

“Okay, fair.”

With Kid metaphorically on board, Killer returned his attention to you.

“So it’s really happening now?” he asked.

“Her water broke,” Heat added.

“Are you seriou-NNfgh!” Killer flinched as you squeezed his hand, another contraction, but he starts the stopwatch, keeping a diligent eye on the timeface despite the pain shooting up his arm. Behind him Kid snorted, seeing Killer now on the receiving end of your iron grip.

“How long till we reach the island?” Killer choked out.

“We’ve still got at least nine or ten hours, we weren’t expecting to hit port until tonight,” Heat said.

The tension in your grip fades as the contraction passes and Killer slumps.

“No, no that’s not gonna work,” you said, “we need to get there sooner.”

“Well, I mean- “Heat stumbled, “let me check with the navigator.”

He leaves, and Killer takes your hand in both of his now, stroking gently, “Babe, maybe we should get a space here ready too, just in case?”

His voice was gentle and coaxing, but he’s unsurprised when you reject the idea, “Absolutely not. I love you but we will not have our baby in the same place where Kid left a rotting body for three days just to prove a point to Heat.” You pointed to the very clear outline stained permanently into the floorboards.

“Oh yeah,” Kid snickered, “I won that fucking bet too.”

Killer sighed, scratching at the head of his helmet in frustration, “Okay well, shit, okay,” He rises and starts to pace, “I guess we just have to wait? Can you make it that long?”

“Yeah, It’ll be fine, we’ll be there before you even know i-augh!” the pain cuts you off as Killer clicked the stopwatch.

“Ten and a half minutes,” he said, “Gives us some time but it’s not a lot.” You nodded, attempting to get to your feet before plopping back into the chair, sending both Kid and Killer with hands out to catch you if necessary.

You waved them off, “Kid, go grab some of those baby books, they might have information how to slow this down.”

He grumbles but rises, striding from the room.

You call to him, “They’re in the top nightstand drawer!”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he calls back.

+++++++

You sat for a while, Killer stroking your back and holding your hand as you continued into the breathing techniques. The time between contractions, while still at least ten minutes apart according to Killer, felt far too short before a fresh wave of pain rolled over you.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed before Heat returned, looking slightly relieved and holding something behind his back.

“Well?” Killer asked.

“The wind’s in our favor so we dropped every sail we have, as long as it stays that way, we can probably make it there an hour or two earlier than expected.”

Killer groaned, but you squeezed his hand in encouragement.

“It helps but it’s still a ways away,” he said.

“We don’t have a choice,” you said, “I can make it until then.”

“By the way,” Heat shifted awkwardly, pulling out what was behind his back, “wasn’t sure when to give this but a couple of us wanted to make a baby blanket.”

It was thickly stitched with patches of various color and design, but it was soft, and you tear up, “This is so sweet! Where do you guys find the fabric?”

He scratched at his head, “Some civilians of the last island ‘donated’ them to us.”

“‘Donated’?”

“Well, from their clothes. That they were wearing.”

Killer inspected a corner of a patch, “Is that blood?”

“Yeah don’t worry, that’ll wash out.”

You held the blanket to your chest, “It’s perfect, thank you Heat.”

Heat flushed, mumbling something inaudible, clearly not used to the attention. Killer turned to him.

“Hey did you see Kid?”

Heat straightened back up, “No I thought he was here with you two?”

Killer scratched at his helmet, “The hell, he was just supposed to grab the books.” He turned to you, “just wait here, I’m going to see what he’s doing.”

+++++++

             He managed to find Kid, sitting cross legged on the floor with his nose buried in a book. All of the baby books were scattered around him, lying half open or tossed haphazardly. Kid’s head snapped up, hearing Killer enter, and his face looked absolutely haunted.

             “Dude, have you read this shit?” Kid asked.

             “Yes, several times. Kid what are you doing? You were supposed to bring the books back.”

             Kid placed the book down, eyes still wide and he looks as though he’s aged ten years, “I mean, holy shit?” he said, “I-… I’ve seen some pretty nasty stuff but that is just-it’s…” He shuddered, unable to voice the trauma of what he’d just read.

             Killer sighed, nudging Kid with his foot as he gathered up an armful of books, “Just come on already.”

             “I mean what the fuck? People do that? Why can’t they just, I don’t know, lay an egg or some shit?”

             “You know that’s literally how you were born.”

             “Still,” Kid said, “it’s fucking gross.”

             They returned to the kitchen where you and Heat were engrossed in conversation over the blanket. He was pointing to a square of blue cloth.

“That one actually came from some rich dude at the last port, so it’s probably good material.”

“What about this one?” you gestured to a pink square with an elegant pattern.

“Oh yeah, that guy was a dick.”

             Kid wordlessly rushed forward, clasping your shoulders in his hands and staring down at you now with the sympathy of a fellow soldier holding a dying friend.

             “You’ll be okay, we’ll get that thing out of you,” his voice was more serious than you’d heard it before.

             “I- Thanks?”

             Kid nodded in resolution, giving your shoulders a soft squeeze before he let go. Killer had dumped the books on the table and was flipping through them.

             “Shit,” Killer said, “there’s a lot of ways to speed up labor but not to slow it down,” he gave the last book an agitated slam shut.

             Kid looked around the kitchen, visibly searching for ideas, “How about we get her drunk?”

             Two smacks, one from Heat one from Killer, followed immediately upside Kid’s head. He cursed loudly and rubbed at the sore spot.

             “Fine! Fuck! I’m just trying to help here! What about food?”

             Killer smacked upside his head again, more on instinct than anything, before he paused, “…Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

             “Fuck you!” Kid screamed.

             You groaned, food sounded like the least appealing thing as your stomach swirled and you said as much.

             “I think at this point,” Heat said, “we just have to stay distracted long enough to get to shore…”

             With the sun still high in the sky, the idea of waiting that long was impossible, but Heat was right, there wasn’t another option.

+++++++

             By the time the sky was just beginning to darken, those hours had felt like the longest in your life. Contractions were now four minutes apart and Killer had become increasingly frantic with no sight of the island in sight.

             They had managed to kill an hour with Kid reading through his hit list, featuring occasional explanations on why a particular person was going to die exceptionally slowly, until Killer had decided discussing murder methods probably wasn’t great for you or the baby.

             As your contractions grew in pain and shortened in rest time, the kitchen was echoing loud groans of pain every few minutes. Kid kept a wide berth from you, protecting the few human fingers he had left, as Killer took the brunt of your crushing grip. During a particularly rough minute, Killer, needing some way to alleviate his own pain, gripped Kid’s shoulder, effectively creating a train of pain. Wire had appeared in the doorway, alerted by the screaming of you and Kid, but seeing what was actually happening, turned around and left before he could be pulled in.

             After what felt like a lifetime the merciful cry of “Land!” was heard, and you could’ve cried with relief.

+++++++

The Victoria Punk nearly crashed into port in its haste as the dead of night was broken abruptly by lanterns lighting and men shouting from the ship. The town was clearly prosperous, you could see it in the pristine white walled houses that lined the cobblestone walkways. A place like this would normally be a prime target to loot and burn, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

Kid leaped from deck to shore before the gangplank had been pulled, followed by Killer carrying you bridal style.

“Watch the ship! We’ll be back!” Kid called to whomever was within earshot on board.

As the two men sprinted down the street, spurred on by your increasing groans of discomfort, both come to the realization that neither knows where the other is going. The houses are nearly identical and mostly likely residential, with tall trees and manicured gardens blocking sight of the roads ahead. Kid swerved to the nearest house, banging against the front door hard enough to splinter it, “Wake up! Where’s the doctor? We got a delivery!”

When the door looked ready to crack in two, its opened by a very disgruntled and sleepy middle-aged man, who took one look before screaming.

“Eu-Eu-Eutass Kid!”

The door slammed shut, followed by several clicks of locks.

Kid turned with a satisfied smirk, “Look at that,” he jerked a thumb at the door, chest puffed in pride, “I’ve got some reputation here.”

“Kid!” you and Killer demanded in unison.

“Right, yup, shitting a watermelon.”

At the next house, Killer pulled back Kid before he approached the door, “Let me this time.” He set you gingerly to the ground, making sure you were steady on your feet before knocking more politely. After a minute or two, a bedraggled looking young man opened the door. His eyes shot open as he processed the men and woman before him and motions to shut the door, but Killer is quicker, planting a foot in the entrance to hold it open.

“Listen,” he grabbed the man by his silk robe before he can run, “my girl is about to have my baby, we just need to know where the doctor in this town is.”

“Y-You can’t t-tell me what to do, pirates!” he’d admit, this guy had some guts, but Killer was in no mood. He was about to unleash a scythe to help make him talk before your voice caught his ears.

“Look here buddy!” clearly you were in no mood either, “I am crowning as we speak, so either you tell us where to find a doctor, or I hike up my dress, squat down, and have the baby right here on your goddamn lawn!”

If it were even possible, the man’s eyes widened more, a hand to his mouth in horror. Lights from neighboring houses were beginning to flicker on to see what the commotion was.

“O-Oh- “the man muttered, “Oh no- no no no! Do not do that!”

“I’m gonna do it so help me!” you screamed.

“She’ll do it,” Killer reiterated.

“Where’s your fucking doctor!?” Kid bellowed from the sidewalk.

A loud groan of agony ripped from you, and seeing you reach down to gather up your skirt, the man finally snapped to action.

“Okay! Okay, just, don’t do that!” he grabbed your hands away from your clothes, but released them immediately seeing the deadly glare Kid had sent. Hands raised in submission, he continued, “the doctor’s not far, just go down the road here and-“

A large solid metal hand clasped his shoulder and cuts him off. The grip is anything but friendly as Kid’s lips stretched into a manic grin.

“Oh no, you’re gonna take us there buddy.”

Even in the lamplight, the man’s skin has dropped three shades paler, “I-I…”

Once Killer stands behind him, trapped between these two wanted pirates, he knows he doesn’t have a choice.

+++++++

             When they reached the doctor’s house, said physician, a wrinkled little old man of at least sixty, saw the pained look on your face and the straining swell of stomach and immediately pulled you in without question. With a strength surprising to his age, the doctor had pushed back Kid and Killer, keeping them in the adjacent room while he phoned to a nurse and got you settled. Your unlucky escort had managed to slip away in the chaos, most likely returning to the safety of his home.

             Kid and Killer now sat awkwardly in the small quaint waiting room, the nurse having already arrived and sounds of increasing discomfort echoing from through the door. Killer had his helmed head in his hands, knee bouncing erratically as Kid tried to find something to say to help his friend. Another cry ripped from the doctor’s room, making them both flinch. Kid fiddled with the metallic end of this prosthetic fingers as a thought dawned on him for the first time.

             “Killer…you’re gonna be a dad.”

             Killer barely muffled the snort that left him as he picked his head up, “Did you just now realize that?”

             “No! I just- “he struggled around for the right words, “…it’s all gonna be different now, won’t it?”

             “Probably.”

             Kid’s eyes returned back to his hands; brow furrowed. The silence between them stretched, broken only by the carnal noises that came muffled through the other room. Killer looked toward his closest friend, head still bowed in thought, and agreed in his head. It would be different now, as soon as he walked through that door and met this new child that would become the center of his life, things never would be the same. Even their day to day sailing that seemed so simple would change. And he realized now that Kid was thinking the same thing.

             “Kid.”

             He grunted in response.

             “It’ll be different but, in a good way.” Killer said, “just think of it like…getting a new crew member.”

             Kid barked in laughter, “A useless crewmember.” Killer shot him a look, “Sorry,” Kid continued, “you know what I mean.”

             Killer sighed and rested his head against the wall behind him.

             “At least they won’t be alone,” Kid said.

             Killer turned to him, though Kid kept his face down, but he knew what he meant. He remembered how hard it had been growing up alone and on his own, and how things had gotten just a bit easier after meeting Kid. Remembered how hard it was even with the two of them, just to get by and put food in their stomachs, to not get mugged or killed, and even if something happened there would be no one to mourn that loss except the other. But this child, they wouldn’t have to know that suffering, the pain of trying to sleep in the freezing night while your body cried out for food and warmth. They would never be alone or abandoned like them. Kid met his stare now; his eyes were deep in some long-forgotten memory.

             “No,” Killer said, “they won’t. Never.”

             Kid nodded, a silent promise.

             The moment broke when the door cracked open, the doctor’s wrinkled face peeking through, “Which of you is the father again?”

             Killer sprang to his feet.

             “Come with me, you’ve got someone to meet,” the doctor said and returned into the room.

             Killer moved forward but sent one look back at his friend before he walked through the door. Anyone else wouldn’t see the slightest tremor in his arms, but Kid wasn’t anyone.

             “Go on,” he gave Killer a lop-sided grin, “go meet your new brat and be gross with Y/N.”

             Even through the mask, Killer’s grin could be felt, “Thanks.”