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lila-lou · 1 month ago

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✨His second exception - Pt. 30/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 9308

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 30 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

„I fed her”, Ben mumbled a little while later, his voice a mixture of gruffness and an unmistakable hint of pride. He moved to sit carefully on the edge of the bed, close enough that his broad frame seemed to take up all the space. He leaned back slightly, his arms crossing as though to downplay the weight of what he was saying. “Didn’t drop her, either”.

You couldn’t help the weak laugh that escaped your lips, though it came with a wince from the soreness in your chest. “You fed her?”, you asked softly, looking up at him with tired but amused eyes. “Did you… enjoy it?”.

He glanced at you, his lips twitching like he was trying to suppress a smirk. “I wouldn’t go that far”, he muttered, though the slight puff of his chest gave him away. “But I got the job done. She didn’t cry. Didn’t puke on me, either. So, yeah, I’d call it a win”.

Your smile widened, your fingers brushing against the baby’s soft cheek as she shifted slightly in your arms, letting out a tiny sigh.

“I’m proud of you”, you whispered, your voice soft and full of warmth as you looked up at Ben. Your tired eyes, so full of emotion, locked with his, and for a moment, he couldn’t look away. They were the same eyes that had always undone him—the ones that somehow made him feel seen in a way no one else ever had. Now, they were reflected in your daughter, and that connection hit him harder than he’d ever admit.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He didn’t respond right away, didn’t deflect with a sarcastic remark or a muttered grumble like he usually would. Instead, something in his expression shifted, his tough exterior cracking just enough to let something softer show through.

Without a word, he leaned in, one large hand coming up to cup your face as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was warm and firm, yet careful, as though he was afraid to hurt you in your fragile state. It wasn’t hurried or dramatic—it was quiet, steady, and real, full of relief and the unspoken things he couldn’t put into words.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his green eyes half-closed as he let out a quiet sigh. “You scared the shit outta me, you know that?”, he muttered, his voice low and rough, tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like vulnerability.

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing against his stubbled jaw. “I’m sorry”, you whispered.

Ben shook his head slightly, his lips brushing your forehead in a gesture so uncharacteristically tender it made your chest tighten. “Don’t”, he mumbled, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t apologize. You made it. That’s what matters”.

He pulled back just enough to look at you again, his gaze scanning your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. “I’m glad you made it out alive”, he said, his words gruff but weighted, spoken in the way only Ben could. “And not just ‘cause of her”. He glanced briefly at the baby in your arms, then back at you, his expression hard to read but undeniably sincere. “You’re tougher than anyone I’ve ever met, and… I can’t lose you. Not now. Not ever”.

Your throat tightened at his words, and all you could do was nod, your tears blurring your vision as you whispered, “I’m not going anywhere”.

“Damn right you’re not”, Ben muttered, his tone softening as his hand brushed against your cheek one last time. Then, with a faint smirk, he leaned back, crossing his arms over his broad chest as if to shake off the moment. “But don’t think this means I’m letting you off easy. You’re still not lifting a damn finger until I say so”.

You laughed weakly, shaking your head as you looked down at your daughter. “Bossy as ever”.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line”, he shot back, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed the warmth behind his gruffness.

And in that quiet moment, surrounded by the hum of monitors and the soft breaths of your sleeping daughter, you felt a fragile but undeniable sense of peace. You had made it, against all odds. And with Ben by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next. Together.

The hours passed slowly, but they felt oddly peaceful. You sat propped up in bed, your body still too weak to do much more than hold Aria while Ben stayed close by. The quiet moments felt surreal, the weight of your daughter in your arms grounding you even as your head swam with exhaustion. Your infusions continued to drip steadily, keeping you hydrated and stabilized, though the thought of real food or even water seemed impossible in your current state.

Breastfeeding had been the plan, something you’d looked forward to, but now the idea felt so distant. You knew it wasn’t an option—not yet. You felt a pang of disappointment, but Ben had quickly brushed off your worries earlier, muttering something about how the formula was “just fine” and that Aria was already thriving because of you. It was one of his gruff reassurances, the kind only he could pull off.

Eventually, the soft creak of the door announced Dr. Collins’ return. She stepped in with her clipboard, her usual composed demeanor softening when she saw you awake, holding your daughter. “Good to see you sitting up”, she said warmly as she approached the bed. “You’re looking much better”.

“Still feel like I got hit by a truck”, you replied, your voice hoarse but laced with humor. Ben snorted softly beside you, shaking his head.

Dr. Collins smiled, glancing at Aria as she moved closer. “Well, considering everything you’ve been through, I’d say you’re recovering remarkably well. And how’s she doing?”, she asked, gesturing to the tiny baby nestled in your arms.

“She’s…”, you paused, glancing down at the baby’s peaceful face. “Aria”, you corrected softly, looking back at Dr. Collins. “Her name is Aria”.

Dr. Collins nodded, her expression softening further. “Aria. A beautiful name for a strong little girl”.

Ben shifted slightly in his chair, his arms crossed, but his gaze flicked down to Aria, his lips pressing into a faint line as if trying to hide the swell of pride the name brought him.

“She’s healthy”, Dr. Collins continued, glancing at her clipboard. “She’s small, yes, but perfectly healthy. Her breathing is strong, her reflexes are normal, and all her initial tests came back clear”.

You let out a shaky breath of relief, your grip on Aria tightening slightly. “That’s all that matters”, you murmured.

Dr. Collins hesitated, her eyes flicking between you and Ben. “There is one thing I wanted to discuss”, she said carefully. “The blood tests we ran revealed that Aria has a significant amount of Compund V in her system”.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt Ben tense beside you. “What does that mean?”, you asked, your voice quiet but firm.

“At the moment”, Dr. Collins said quickly, “she’s showing no signs of powers or abnormalities. But with that level of V in her blood, it’s likely that she’ll develop abilities as she grows. We’ll monitor her closely, but for now, she’s stable. There’s no immediate concern”.

Ben’s jaw clenched, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at Aria. “So, what, we’re supposed to just wait around and see if she… what? Shoots lasers out of her eyes? Flies off into the damn ceiling?”.

“Ben”, you said softly, your voice cutting through his frustration. He looked at you, his expression hard but quieting under your steady gaze. “She’s fine. She’s healthy. That’s what matters”.

Dr. Collins nodded in agreement. “Exactly. There’s no reason to worry at this stage. We’ll keep an eye on her development, but for now, she’s just a normal, healthy baby”.

Ben grunted, leaning back in his chair as he ran a hand through his hair. “Normal”, he muttered under his breath, though his gaze softened as it landed on Aria again. “Yeah, sure. Normal”.

You looked down at your daughter, her tiny fingers curling around your thumb as she shifted slightly in her sleep. “Thank you, Dr. Collins”, you said, your voice trembling with gratitude.

Dr. Collins gave a small smile. “You’re welcome. I’ll leave you all to rest, but I’ll be back to check on you later”.

As she left the room, the silence settled again, and Ben let out a long breath. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Aria, huh?”.

You smiled weakly, brushing a finger across Aria’s cheek. “You picked it too”, you murmured.

Just as Ben’s faint smirk began to fade, Aria stirred in your arms, her little fists clenching softly as her mouth opened and closed in tiny, insistent motions. A faint whimper escaped her lips, signaling her hunger. You looked down at her, your heart swelling despite your exhaustion.

“She’s hungry”, you murmured, your voice filled with warmth and determination. You glanced at Ben, your tired eyes meeting his sharp green ones. “I want to feed her”.

Ben’s expression immediately hardened, his brows furrowing. “You’re too weak”, he said flatly, his arms crossing over his broad chest as he shook his head. “You can barely hold her, let alone feed her”.

“Ben, I’m her mom”, you said softly but firmly, the weight of your words making him falter. “I want to do this”.

He huffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Yeah, and I’m the one who’s been making sure you stay alive”, he muttered. “You’re not gonna keel over just because you feel like playing mom right now. Let me do it”.

You glared at him, though the exhaustion in your body made it less effective than usual. “Ben, I’m not asking”, you said, your voice trembling slightly but full of resolve. “She’s my daughter, and I want to feed her. Now, please, ring for the nurse”.

Ben clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking between you and Aria as she whimpered again, her little hands curling tighter. He let out a frustrated sigh before standing and pressing the call button on the wall. “Fine”, he grumbled, his tone clipped. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you pass out mid-bottle”.

A few moments later, the nurse entered the room, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to Ben’s simmering irritation. “She’s hungry”, you said, offering a small, tired smile. “Could you please bring us some formula?”.

“Of course”, the nurse replied with a nod, quickly leaving to retrieve the bottle.

Ben leaned against the wall, his arms still crossed as he watched you with a mix of exasperation and concern. “You’re stubborn as fuck, you know that?”, he muttered, his voice low.

“Wonder where I got it from”, you shot back, giving him a faint smile that made his lips twitch despite himself.

The nurse returned with the bottle, handing it to you carefully. “Here you go”, she said softly, adjusting your pillows to give you more support. “Take your time, and let me know if you need help”.

“Thank you”, you said, your voice full of gratitude as you shifted Aria slightly in your arms, cradling her closer. Her tiny mouth found the bottle instinctively, latching on and beginning to feed with quiet, contented sounds.

Ben stayed silent, his sharp eyes watching your every move as though he expected you to collapse at any moment. But as you held Aria and fed her, a calmness washed over you, the bond between you and your daughter palpable in the quiet room.

“I told you I could do it”, you murmured after a while, glancing up at Ben with a triumphant smile.

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. “You’re still not doing anything else. Feeding her’s all you get for now”.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, your focus returning to Aria as she continued to drink. Ben’s gaze softened as he watched the two of you, his irritation melting away as he leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the edge of the bed.

“You’re lucky she’s got your guts”, he said quietly, his voice rough but filled with a strange mix of pride and affection. “Kid’s already a fighter. Just like her mom”.

You looked up at him, your smile softening. “And her dad”, you whispered.

Ben didn’t respond, but the faint glimmer in his eyes said enough.

As the time came for Aria’s first diaper change and a fresh set of clothes—a soft onesie you’d picked out weeks ago, back when everything seemed simpler—you glanced up at Ben. You knew you were pushing it, but you couldn’t help yourself. “I want to do it”, you said softly, your voice tinged with a quiet plea.

Ben turned to you, his sharp green eyes narrowing immediately. “No fucking way”, he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You can barely sit up without looking like you’re about to keel over. Feeding her was enough. This? No. Not fucking happening”.

“Ben, I—”.

“No”, he growled, cutting you off. “You’re not moving a damn inch. Got it?”.

You sighed, biting back the urge to argue further. You could see the tension in his jaw, the protective edge in his tone. As frustrating as it was, you knew he wasn’t going to budge.

Moments later, the nurse entered the room, carrying the supplies needed for Aria’s diaper change. She gave you a kind smile before turning to Ben. “Alright, Dad”, she said, her tone upbeat. “You’re up”.

Ben’s eyes widened slightly as he straightened up, his hands going to his hips. “Me? The fuck do you mean, I’m up?”, he asked, glaring at the nurse as though she’d just insulted him.

The nurse smiled patiently, setting the supplies down on the foot of the bed. “You wanted her mom to rest, right?”, she said, raising an eyebrow. “That means it’s your turn. Don’t worry—I’ll guide you through it”.

Ben shot you a look, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “You’re really gonna make me do this?”, he muttered, though there was no real venom in his tone.

You smirked, leaning back against the pillows. “Your turn to shine… Dad”.

He grumbled something under his breath but moved to the foot of the bed, rolling up his sleeves like he was about to go into battle. The nurse handed him a clean diaper and some wipes, her tone cheerful as she began explaining the steps.

“Alright, first, you’ll need to undo her onesie and take off the old diaper”, she said, gesturing to Aria.

Ben hesitated, his large hands moving awkwardly as he fumbled with the tiny snaps on Aria’s onesie. “Christ, who makes these things so fucking small?”, he muttered.

As Ben finally managed to get the tiny onesie unsnapped and peeled off, he froze, staring down at Aria’s naked, squirming form. He let out a sharp snort, his lips twitching as he muttered, “She looks like a damn chicken”.

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite your exhaustion, the sound weak but genuine. “Ben!”, you said, a hint of scolding in your tone. “She’s a baby, not a chicken”.

He raised an eyebrow at you, then gestured toward Aria’s skinny little limbs and the way she wiggled, her tiny fists flailing in the air. “Look at her”, he said, his tone dry. “She’s got these scrawny legs, no meat on her bones. I’m just saying it like it is”.

The nurse stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she handed Ben a wipe. “Well, this little ‘chicken’ is your daughter, and she’s looking like she´s supposed to", she said, her tone light. “Now, focus. You’ve got a job to do”.

Ben rolled his eyes but returned his attention to the task at hand. He peeled back the old diaper, grimacing slightly as he got his first real look. “Alright, I take it back”, he muttered. “She’s not a chicken. She’s a little grenade. A fucking messy one”.

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh too hard. “Welcome to parenthood”, you teased.

Ben shot you a look but didn’t respond, instead taking the wipe and holding it awkwardly. The nurse guided him step by step, her voice calm and encouraging. “Always wipe from front to back”, she reminded him.

He froze, turning to you with an incredulous look. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”.

“It means don’t mess it up, Ben”, you said with a smirk. “It’s to avoid infections”.

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Of course it’s complicated", before carefully wiping Aria, his massive hands moving with an unexpected gentleness. “Front to back”, he mumbled to himself, like he was committing it to memory.

When he was finished, the nurse handed him a clean diaper. “Now, slide this under her, fold it up, and secure the tabs. Snug, but not too tight”.

Ben had already pinched Aria’s tiny wrist gently between his thumb and forefinger, clearly intending to lift her up as though she were a doll, when the nurse quickly intervened.

“Whoa, no!”, she said, her voice firm but not unkind. She stepped forward, putting a hand out to stop him. “You don’t lift her like that. You need to support her back and neck”.

Ben froze, blinking at the nurse with a mix of confusion and irritation. “Well, how the fuck am I supposed to get the damn diaper under her, then?”, he muttered, glancing down at Aria, who squirmed blissfully unaware of her father’s struggle.

The nurse smiled patiently, demonstrating with her hands. “Here, let me show you. Slide one hand under her bottom, and your other hand under her back, like this. Then gently lift her just enough to slip the diaper underneath”.

Ben huffed, muttering something under his breath about “overcomplicated baby engineering”, but he followed her instructions, his large hands carefully cradling Aria’s fragile form. He lifted her with surprising gentleness, her tiny body barely moving as he slid the fresh diaper into place beneath her.

“There you go”, the nurse said encouragingly. “Now, lower her back down and secure the tabs”.

Ben did as instructed, his movements slightly awkward but undeniably careful. He fastened the tabs with a bit too much force at first, but the nurse quickly corrected him, guiding his hands to adjust the fit. When he was finally done, he leaned back, crossing his arms and looking down at his work with a critical eye.

“She doesn’t look like she’s about to fall apart”, he muttered. “Guess I didn’t screw it up”.

The nurse chuckled. “You did great. Now, let’s get her dressed”.

Ben groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he picked up the tiny onesie you’d chosen for Aria. “I’m starting to think babies were designed just to make adults look stupid”, he grumbled, holding up the onesie like it was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Arms first, then legs”, the nurse said, smiling as she stepped back to let him work.

Ben sighed, his brows furrowing as he carefully maneuvered Aria’s tiny arms into the sleeves. His large hands fumbled slightly with the delicate fabric.

But the real problem came when it was time to deal with Aria’s legs. Her tiny limbs were scrunched up tightly against her body, as if she was perfectly content staying in her curled-up position. Ben stared down at her, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion.

“She’s like a damn pretzel”, he muttered, glancing at the nurse for guidance. “How the fuck am I supposed to get her legs in this thing if she won’t cooperate?”.

The nurse stifled a laugh, stepping closer to offer some advice. “That’s normal for newborns”, she said gently. “They’re used to being curled up in the womb. Just be gentle, and don’t force her legs straight. Guide them into the onesie one at a time”.

Ben sighed heavily, before he carefully held one of Aria’s tiny feet, his massive hand dwarfing her delicate limb, and tried to guide it into the onesie’s leg opening. The fabric bunched up awkwardly, and Ben growled in frustration.

“She’s fighting me”, he grumbled, shooting a glare at Aria as if she was doing it on purpose. “This kid’s got her mom’s stubbornness already”.

You couldn’t help but laugh weakly from the bed, watching the scene unfold. “She’s not fighting you, Ben”, you said, your voice soft but amused. “She’s just… tiny. And new to all of this”.

“Yeah, well, she’s winning”, he muttered, finally managing to get one of her legs into the onesie. He moved on to the other, his hands surprisingly steady despite his gruff demeanor. “This better get easier, or I’m hiring someone to do this part”.

The nurse chuckled. “You’re doing fine”, she reassured him. “It’ll get easier with practice”.

“Yeah, practice”, Ben grumbled. “Can’t fucking wait for that”.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to get Aria’s second leg into the onesie. He adjusted the fabric carefully, making sure it wasn’t twisted or bunched, and then fastened the tiny snaps with a level of concentration that would have been comical if it weren’t so endearing.

“There”, he said, leaning back to survey his work. “She’s dressed. And still alive”.

The nurse smiled warmly. “You did great, Dad. She looks very comfortable”.

Ben snorted, crossing his arms as he glanced down at Aria, who was now squirming contentedly in her fresh diaper and onesie. “She’d better be”, he muttered. “I just wrestled a chicken-sized octopus to make it happen”.

You let out a quiet laugh, your heart swelling as you watched him. “You’re a natural”, you said softly, your voice full of affection.

Ben turned to you, his green eyes softening slightly as he smirked. “Damn right I am”, he said gruffly. “But don’t think this means you’re off the hook. You’re taking over as soon as you can sit up without looking like you’re gonna pass out”.

“We’ll see”, you teased, leaning back against the pillows as you watched him pick up Aria with surprising gentleness. He cradled her in his arms, his expression softening as he looked down at her tiny face.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the monitors. You could see the pride in Ben’s eyes, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He was figuring this out, one step at a time—and somehow, you knew he was going to be a great dad.

It started as a slight sniffle, but within moments, your emotions overwhelmed you. Tears began streaming down your face, and before you knew it, you were sobbing uncontrollably. You couldn’t hold it back, your chest heaving as you watched Ben holding Aria against his chest. The sight of him, so strong and rough around the edges, cradling your impossibly tiny daughter with such care—it was too much.

Ben’s head snapped toward you, his expression immediately shifting to one of alarm. “The hell’s wrong now?”, he asked, his voice sharp but edged with concern. “Did I do something? Did she do something?”.

You shook your head, unable to get any words out through your sobs. You tried to wipe at your face, but the tears just kept coming. “No—no, it’s… it’s just…”, you stammered, your voice breaking as you tried to explain. “It’s you. And her. And this. I can’t…”.

Ben blinked at you, his green eyes wide as he processed your words. For a moment, he looked like he might bolt, the sheer weight of your emotions clearly throwing him off. “Oh, for fuck’s sake”, he muttered under his breath, shifting Aria slightly in his arms as he stood awkwardly by the bed. “It’s the hormones, right? Collins said this would happen”.

You nodded, still sobbing as you reached out a hand toward him, your heart so full it felt like it might burst. “You’re so… you’re so good with her”, you choked out. “I didn’t think you’d be so—so perfect”.

Ben’s face flushed slightly, and he glanced down at Aria as if to deflect from your words. “Yeah, well”, he muttered, his voice gruff. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still figuring this shit out”.

But even as he tried to brush it off, you saw the way his arms tightened slightly around Aria, the way he glanced back at you with something softer in his eyes. He stepped closer to the bed, lowering himself into the chair beside you as you continued to cry.

“Christ”, he muttered, his tone softer now as he looked down at you. “You’re a fucking mess”.

“I know”, you wailed, covering your face with your hands. “I can’t help it”.

Ben sighed, shaking his head as he leaned forward slightly, holding Aria against his chest with one hand while his other hand reached out to brush against yours. “Hey”, he said, his voice low but steady. “It’s alright. You’re allowed to cry. Just don’t drown the fucking kid in tears, alright?”.

You let out a watery laugh, wiping at your face as you tried to calm down. “I’m sorry”, you whispered. “It’s just… seeing you with her, it’s everything”.

Ben huffed, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Don´t go writing me a damn poem about it”, he said, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. He looked down at Aria, his expression softening as she shifted slightly against him, her tiny hand brushing against his chest. “But I guess… she’s not so bad. For a chicken”.

That made you laugh again, a weak but genuine sound that cut through the haze of your emotions. “She’s not a chicken, Ben”, you said, your voice trembling but warm.

“She’ll always be a little chicken”, he muttered, glancing back at you. His green eyes held a rare warmth, the kind he usually kept hidden. “And you’re gonna be fine. Both of you”.

It wasn’t even 7 in the morning when Ben stirred beside you. His eyes were still closed, his body heavy with the kind of exhaustion only a few hours of sleep could bring, but his supe hearing had already kicked in. He caught the faint murmur of voices outside your hospital room—familiar ones.

“Is this the right room? They said it was this one, didn’t they?”, your mother’s voice carried through the corridor, a mix of excitement and nerves.

“I don’t want to barge in”, your father replied, though his tone betrayed the eagerness he was trying to hide. “But I’ll be damned if we wait any longer to see her and that baby”.

Ben groaned low in his throat, his arm tightening instinctively around you as he let out a muttered curse. “Your parents”, he grumbled, his voice rough with sleep. “Of course, they’re here already”.

You blinked awake slowly, your body still aching and weak, but your mind sharpening as you processed his words. “My parents?”, you mumbled, trying to sit up. “Already?”.

Ben cracked one eye open, his expression deadpan. “It’s barely sunrise, and they’re out there like it’s fucking Christmas morning”.

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows as you tried to summon the energy to face them. “They’re excited. They’ve been waiting for this as much as we have”.

Ben snorted, shifting slightly in the bed to sit up. “Yeah, well, they could’ve waited until after I’d had more than three hours of sleep”.

You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of him so grumpy and yet so protective. “Do you want to let them in, or should I?”.

Ben grumbled something unintelligible before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll get it”, he muttered. “Might as well make sure they don’t wake up half the damn hospital”.

He stood, running a hand through his messy hair as he made his way to the door. The sight of him— shirt rumpled from sleeping beside you, his usual tough exterior softened by the exhaustion of the past few days—made your chest tighten. He looked like a man who’d been through hell and back, but also like someone who’d fight that battle all over again if it meant keeping you and Aria safe.

Ben opened the door, his broad frame filling the doorway as he leaned against it, arms crossed. “You couldn’t wait a couple more hours?”, he said gruffly, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at your parents.

Your mother’s face lit up immediately, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she ignored his tone entirely. “Oh, Ben! Is she awake? Can we see her? How’s the baby?”.

Your father cleared his throat, clearly trying to keep things more composed. “Good to see you”, he said, though his gaze kept darting past Ben, trying to catch a glimpse of you inside the room.

Ben sighed, stepping aside to let them in. “Yeah, yeah, come on in”, he muttered. “But keep it down. She’s still recovering”.

The moment your parents stepped into the room, your mother rushed to your side, her hands flying to her mouth as she took in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart”, she said, her voice trembling. “You look so pale. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”.

You smiled weakly, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I’m okay, Mom. Just tired”.

Your father stood back slightly, his expression softer but no less emotional. “And the baby?", he asked, his voice quiet but full of anticipation.

“She’s perfect”, you said, your smile widening. “They kept her in the recovery room overnight to make sure she’s okay, but she’s healthy. She’s amazing”.

Ben leaned against the wall, watching the interaction with his usual mix of aloofness and quiet observation. Your mother turned to him suddenly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she put her hands on her hips. “And you”, she said, her tone sharp but affectionate. “You’ve been taking care of them, haven’t you?”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “What do you think?”, he said dryly, though his voice held no real edge.

Your mother softened immediately, stepping forward to give him a hug he clearly wasn’t prepared for. “Thank you”, she said quietly. “For being here. For everything”.

Ben froze for a moment, his arms hovering awkwardly before he patted her back stiffly.

Ben stiffly endured your mother’s hug, his hand patting her back awkwardly before she pulled away, her eyes glistening with emotion. He glanced over at you, his green eyes narrowing slightly, silently warning you not to say anything about what had really happened. You’d agreed—your parents didn’t need to know how close you’d come to not making it.

Your father stepped closer to you, his eyes scanning your face, then flicking briefly to Ben as if gauging how things had really been. “You said it was complicated”, he said carefully, his tone neutral but laced with concern. “But… you’re okay now? You sure?”.

“I’m okay, Dad”, you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “It was just… a lot. But the doctors were incredible. And Ben…”. You glanced over at him, your smile faint but warm. “Ben’s been here the whole time”.

Ben snorted quietly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah, well, not like I had anywhere better to be”, he muttered, his gruff tone doing little to hide the truth.

Your mother sat down on the edge of the bed, taking your other hand in hers. “You should’ve called us sooner”, she said, her voice trembling slightly. “If things were that complicated, we could’ve—”.

“We didn’t want to worry you”, you interrupted gently. “And it all happened so fast. There wasn’t really time”.

Your father frowned slightly but nodded, clearly still uneasy. “What kind of complications?”, he pressed. “You didn’t say much in your texts”.

You hesitated, your eyes flicking to Ben for support. He caught the look and straightened, his expression hardening slightly as he stepped forward. “The kind that aren’t worth dredging up now”, he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “She’s fine. The kid’s fine. That’s what matters”.

Your father’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t push further, his gaze shifting back to you. “As long as you’re okay”, he said quietly. “That’s all we care about”.

Your mother nodded quickly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And you’ll tell us if anything else comes up, won’t you?”, she asked, her voice full of worry.

“Of course”, you said, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “But we’re really okay now. I promise”.

Ben’s sharp green eyes shifted toward the door, his head tilting slightly as if listening to something in the distance. He smirked faintly, his arms still crossed over his chest. “Oh, here comes the chicken”, he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Your father frowned, clearly confused. “What chicken?”, he asked, glancing between you and Ben. “What’s he talking about?”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head. “He calls Aria his little chicken”, you explained, your voice full of affection. “It’s his… nickname for her”.

Your mother blinked, her mouth dropping open slightly as she looked at Ben. “You call her a chicken?”, she asked, her tone hovering between disbelief and amusement. “That’s what you’re going with?”.

Ben shrugged, completely unfazed. “She’s tiny, squirmy, and she looks like one of those grill chickens when she’s all curled up”, he said gruffly. “Fits, doesn’t it?”.

Your father looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or question Ben’s sanity, but before anyone could respond further, there was a soft knock at the door. Ben turned toward it just as a nurse peeked in, pushing a small bassinet into the room.

“Someone’s ready to come back to her mom and dad”, the nurse said with a warm smile, her hands gently maneuvering the bassinet into position beside your bed.

Your heart swelled at the sight of Aria, bundled snugly in a soft blanket, her tiny face barely visible beneath the swaddling. She was peaceful, her chest rising and falling with steady little breaths. You felt a lump rise in your throat, the overwhelming love you felt for her making it hard to speak.

Your mother gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, she’s beautiful”, she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Look at her”.

Your father stepped closer, his usually reserved demeanor breaking as he leaned over the bassinet. “She’s so small”, he murmured, his voice full of awe. “But perfect”.

Ben moved to stand beside the bassinet, his broad frame towering over it as he glanced down at Aria. His expression softened, though he quickly masked it with a snort. “Told you”, he said, glancing at your father. “Chicken”.

Your father gave him a bewildered look, but before he could say anything, the nurse lifted Aria from the bassinet and handed her carefully to you. “Here you go, Mom”, she said gently. “She had a great night. Everything looks perfect”.

You cradled Aria against your chest, tears brimming in your eyes as you looked down at her tiny face. She stirred slightly, letting out a soft, contented sigh, and your heart felt like it might burst.

“She’s perfect”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Absolutely perfect”.

Your mother leaned closer, her hand brushing lightly against Aria’s blanket. “She looks just like you when you were a baby”, she said softly.

Your father hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly as he glanced between you, Ben, and Aria. There was something cautious in his tone as he finally asked, “Anything… strange so far?”.

You froze for a moment, your breath catching as you looked up at Ben. The question lingered heavily in the air, and you saw Ben’s jaw tighten briefly before he rolled his eyes, letting out a low grumble.

“She didn’t laser-eye the fucking nurses, if that’s what you’re asking”, he said dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. “No flying off the bassinet, no glowing hands, no weird suped-up baby antics. Happy now?”.

Your father blinked, clearly startled by Ben’s bluntness, but your mother gave him a sharp look. “Oh, for heaven’s sake”, she said, her voice laced with exasperation. “We weren’t accusing her of anything, Ben. It’s just… with everything, you know…”. She gestured vaguely toward you and then back to Aria, her voice softening. “We’re just trying to understand”.

Ben snorted, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to understand. She’s fine. Just a regular, squirmy, chicken-sized kid”. His green eyes flicked to you, softening slightly as he added, “Right now, anyway”.

You gave him a faint smile, your fingers brushing against Aria’s soft cheek as you cradled her closer. “She’s healthy”, you said gently, looking back at your parents. “That’s all that matters right now. She’s just a baby”.

Your father nodded slowly, though his gaze lingered on Aria with quiet curiosity. “And if that changes?”, he asked, his voice steady but serious. “If she does… you know, show signs of something?”.

Ben sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “If that happens, we’ll deal with it”, he said firmly. “Not like we’ve got a choice, do we? But for now, she’s just a kid. No reason to make a big deal out of nothing”.

“Well, you might be bulletproof, but that doesn’t count for my daughter”.

Ben’s sharp green eyes snapped to your father, narrowing slightly as his jaw tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, he asked, his voice low, edged with warning.

Your father didn’t flinch, though he glanced briefly at you before answering. “It means”, he said carefully, “that if Aria develops some… abilities, and something goes wrong, it’s not you who’ll get hurt. It’s my daughter”.

“Dad”, you said softly, trying to cut through the growing tension, but Ben spoke over you.

Ben’s jaw twitched, but instead of snapping back like you expected, he took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, then turned his intense green gaze on your father, his tone calm but firm.

“She won’t hurt her”, he said quietly, yet the conviction in his voice filled the room. “I won’t let that happen”.

Your father’s brow furrowed, his skepticism evident, but Ben held his ground, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I know what you’re thinking”, Ben continued, his voice steady. “You think because I’ve got a history, because I’ve been on the wrong side of this shit, I don’t know what it’s like to protect people. To protect her”. He glanced at you, his expression softening briefly before his eyes returned to your father. “But you’re wrong. I know exactly what’s at stake. And no matter what happens with Aria—whether she’s got powers or not��I’ll make damn sure she’s in control. And that no one gets hurt”.

Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though weighing Ben’s words carefully. “And how can you be so sure?”, he asked. “What if something happens that you can’t stop?”.

Ben didn’t waver. “Then I’ll figure it out”, he said firmly. “I’ve been around long enough to know how to handle supes, how to deal with powers. And more than that, I’ll teach her. If she has abilities, she’s gonna learn how to control them, how to use them if she has to—but never to hurt the people she loves”.

You swallowed hard, your heart swelling at the unexpected vulnerability in Ben’s words. He wasn’t just making promises—he was laying down a foundation for how he’d protect your family, no matter what.

“And as for your daughter”, Ben added, his gaze flicking to you with a softness that made your chest tighten, “nothing’s gonna happen to her. Not while I’m here. I won’t let it”.

Your father studied him for a long moment, his expression still skeptical but not as hard as before. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Alright”, he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’ll hold you to that”.

Ben snorted softly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “You can try”, he muttered. “But I don’t break promises”.

Your mother, who had been watching the exchange silently, stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on your father’s arm. “I think we all want the same thing”, she said softly, her eyes darting to you and Aria. “To protect her. And to make sure she grows up happy and safe”.

“She will”, you said, your voice trembling slightly as you looked down at your daughter.

Eventually, the tension in the room eased, and the atmosphere grew lighter. Your father seemed to relax a bit, though you could still see the lingering concern in his eyes. Ben leaned back against the wall, watching everything closely, his arms still crossed but his posture less rigid.

When the nurse brought in a tray of food for you, it became clear that sitting up was going to be a challenge. You felt the weakness in your body, but you were determined to try. Ben stepped forward, his instinctive protectiveness kicking in as he prepared to help.

But before he could, your father spoke up. “Let me help her”, he said, his voice quiet but steady.

Ben hesitated, his sharp green eyes flicking to you, then back to your father. For a moment, you thought he might argue, but then he stepped back, nodding slightly. “Fine”, he muttered. “Just don’t drop her”.

Your father shot him a look but didn’t respond, turning his attention to you instead. “Alright, honey”, he said softly, moving to your side. “Let’s take it slow”.

Ben hovered nearby, his gaze tracking every movement as your father carefully helped you shift upright. It took a few tries—your body still felt like it was made of lead—but with your father on one side and Ben subtly steadying you from the other, you managed to sit up. Your head spun slightly, and you felt your father’s grip tighten.

“You okay?”, he asked, his voice full of worry.

“I’m okay”, you said, your voice trembling slightly but full of determination. “Just… dizzy”.

“Let’s try to get you eating”, he said, picking up the tray and setting it in front of you.

Meanwhile, your mother sat on the other side of the room, holding Aria. The baby was bundled snugly in her arms, her tiny face peaceful and serene. Your mother’s eyes were bright with wonder as she rocked her gently. “She’s incredible”, she whispered, glancing at you with a soft smile. “You did good, sweetheart”.

You managed a few small bites, the warm food helping you feel a bit steadier, though your body still felt like it was moving in slow motion. You were hyper-aware of Ben in the room, standing near the wall but with his sharp eyes locked on your mother and Aria. His usual confidence seemed tempered with something quieter—protectiveness, perhaps, or the unease of trusting someone else with his daughter.

You glanced at him as you took another small bite, watching his hands twitch subtly at his sides. It was barely noticeable, but you caught it every time your mom shifted Aria in her arms—pulling the blanket higher, adjusting her tiny hat, or rocking her gently. Every movement seemed to set off some internal alarm in Ben, and though he didn’t move closer, you could see the restraint in his posture.

“Ben”, you said softly, your voice pulling his attention. He raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing tightly over his chest as he looked at you. “She’s fine”.

“I know”, he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to your mother almost instantly, his jaw tightening. “I just don’t like other people… handling her”.

Your father smirked slightly as he adjusted the tray in front of you. “She’s her grandmother”, he said lightly, though his voice held a hint of teasing. “Not exactly ‘other people’”.

Ben shot him a glare, but it lacked his usual bite. “Doesn’t mean I trust her not to drop the chicken”, he grumbled.

“Ben!”, you said, laughing softly despite your exhaustion. “My mom raised me just fine. I think she knows how to hold a baby”.

Ben raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into a faint smirk as he muttered under his breath, “Think she might’ve dropped you a few times too often, though”.

“Ben!”, you exclaimed, though your voice was laced with laughter, your tired body shaking slightly from the effort. “That’s my mom you’re talking about”.

He shrugged, the smirk still lingering as he leaned casually against the wall. “I’m just saying, explains a few things”.

Your mother, who had clearly caught his muttering despite the low tone, turned her head to glare at him, though her lips twitched in amusement. “I heard that”, she said pointedly. “And for the record, I never dropped her. Not once”.

“Not once?”, Ben asked, his tone skeptical as he pushed off the wall and sauntered a step closer. His green eyes glinted mischievously, and he gestured toward you. “Not even when she was squirming around like a little chicken? Seems unlikely”.

Your mother arched an eyebrow, refusing to take the bait. “Not once”, she repeated firmly, her tone prim.

Ben’s smirk grew a fraction as he crossed his arms once more. “Funny”, he muttered toward your mom, “I had you pegged as the clumsy type. Always dropping my coffee or bumping into desks back in the day”.

Your mother froze for a moment, her mouth dropping open slightly in disbelief before she composed herself. “Excuse me?”, she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I did not drop coffee, thank you very much. And that was a long time ago”.

Your dad snorted loudly, clearly unable to hold back. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Oh, come on, sweetheart”, he teased, his grin widening. “You did it on purpose half the time. You were just trying to piss him off. You always said he deserved it for giving Monica all the pay raises and the easy jobs”.

Your mother’s cheeks flushed, but there was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she glanced at Ben. “Well”, she said, her voice dry, “I wasn’t wrong, was I? Monica was your favorite, after all”.

“Monica was good at her job”, he said defensively, though the edge in his voice was mild. “Most of the time”.

“Right”, your dad said, still chuckling. “Good at her job—or good at stroking your ego? Because from what I remember, the only thing Monica excelled at was making you feel… like the king of the tower”.

The atmosphere shifted slightly, but instead of turning tense, it remained surprisingly light. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound raspy but genuine. “I think you’ve been caught, Ben”, you teased, your voice weak but amused.

Ben’s smirk returned, sharper now, as he leaned a little closer, his green eyes glinting with his signature boldness. “I bet now everyone’s glad it was Monica and not you, huh?”, he said casually, his voice dripping with dry humor. “Would’ve been a little awkward if I’d first fucked you and then ended up with your daughter”.

The room went completely silent, the weight of his words landing like a bomb.

Your mother’s jaw dropped, her face flushing a deep crimson as she stared at him, utterly speechless. Your father blinked, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and disbelief.

“Ben!”, you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of horror and strained laughter. Despite how exhausted you were, you managed to swat weakly in his direction. “Oh my God, you can’t just say that!”.

“What?”, Ben replied, shrugging innocently, though the smug grin spreading across his face betrayed him. “I’m just saying. Could’ve been a lot messier”.

Your mother finally found her voice, though it came out as more of a strangled squeak. “That is not something you joke about!”.

Your dad, however, broke the silence with a deep, booming laugh, leaning back in his chair as he slapped his knee. “Well, he’s not wrong”, he said, grinning as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Would’ve made for one hell of a family reunion”.

Your mother turned her glare to your father now, smacking his arm. “Don’t encourage him!”, she snapped, though her indignation was starting to crack under the sheer absurdity of the situation.

You buried your face in your hands, groaning loudly. “I can’t believe this is my life”. you mumbled, though there was a faint laugh hidden in your voice.

Your mother threw her hands up in exasperation, her glare darting between you and Ben. “Why is he like this?!”, she asked, her voice full of disbelief. Then, without waiting for an answer, she turned to Ben, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you like this?”.

Ben, entirely unfazed, smirked as he stepped forward, wiggling his fingers dramatically. “C’mon, it’s feeding time”, he said, his voice dripping with mock impatience. “Gimme my daughter”.

Your mother raised a brow, her grip on Aria tightening slightly as she rocked the baby against her chest. “Oh no, I don’t think so”, she said dryly. “You tainted mine; it’s only fair I’ve got yours now”.

Your dad choked on his laugh, quickly turning his head away to hide his grin as you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands again. “Mom!”, you exclaimed, your voice muffled but full of disbelief. “I’m sitting right here!”.

Ben’s smirk only widened, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Tainted, huh?”, he said, raising an eyebrow at your mom. “Seems like it worked out pretty well for her. Don’t hear any complaints coming from that side of the bed”.

“Ben!”, you hissed, glaring at him with flushed cheeks. “You’re not helping!”.

Your mother’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, but she didn’t back down. Still holding Aria protectively, she raised her chin and shot Ben a look that could have stopped traffic. “Not helping? He’s not even trying to help”, she said sharply, though there was a faint, amused twitch at the corners of her lips. “He’s just making it worse, like always”.

“Worse?”, Ben repeated, arching a brow as he leaned casually against the wall, crossing his arms. “I’d say I’m making it more interesting. Admit it, the place was boring before I showed up”.

“Boring?”. Your mother scoffed, her voice climbing slightly. “I’ll take boring over you traumatizing my granddaughter with your ‘interesting’ any day”.

Ben snorted. “Oh, please. This kid’s going to have thicker skin than all of us put together. She’s not gonna blink at a little banter. Isn’t that right, chicken?”. He reached out, his large hands gently brushing the edge of the blanket Aria was wrapped in.

Just then, the door creaked open, and the nurse stepped into the room, carrying a small bottle of formula in her hand. She glanced around, her eyes landing on the group as she smiled warmly. “Alright”, she said, holding up the bottle, “who wants to feed her?”.

Ben immediately straightened, his green eyes snapping to the bottle. “Me”, he said gruffly, stepping forward without hesitation. He held out his free hand.

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her arms folding over her chest as she gave him a pointed look. “Oh, you’re volunteering for something now? How generous of you”.

Ben shot her a glare. “She’s my kid”, he said simply, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll feed her”.

Ben sat down carefully on the edge of your bed, right beside you, his movements deliberate as he cradled Aria in one arm and held the bottle with the other. You knew him well enough to see through his act; he could have sat anywhere, but he’d chosen this spot so you could see your baby up close, even from your weakened position. He wouldn’t say it out loud, of course—he’d just let his actions speak for him, like always.

The nurse gave him an approving nod before slipping out of the room.

It was only the second time Ben had fed Aria, but despite the lingering awkwardness in the way he held her impossibly small body, he looked surprisingly confident. His large hands, so used to holding weapons or fists, now supported her tiny frame with a gentleness you wouldn’t have thought possible. There was a rough grace to it, like he was learning quickly, adapting as he went.

Aria squirmed in his arms, her little face scrunching up as she let out a series of soft, annoyed sounds. Her fists flailed weakly, and her tiny legs kicked against the blanket wrapped around her.

“Easy, chicken”, Ben muttered, his deep voice low but soothing as he shifted her slightly in his arms. “I’m getting it. Hold your horses”.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, his usual bravado toned down into something softer as he adjusted his grip on her. He tilted the bottle slightly, making sure it was positioned just right. Aria let out another tiny grunt before finally latching onto the nipple, her little mouth working furiously as she began to feed.

“There we go”, Ben murmured, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Told you I’ve got it”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Part 31

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #soldier boy x you #ben x you #ben x reader #ben #his second exception

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lila-lou · 2 months ago

Text

✨His second exception - Pt. 29/?✨

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, ANGST, Maybe some triggers (death chances etc.)

Word Count: 8591

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 29 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

The moment the warmth rushed down your thighs and pooled at your feet, the world seemed to stop. You stared down, frozen in place, your breath catching in your throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. Four weeks too early. Too soon. Panic surged through you as a million fears collided in your chest.

“Ben”, you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the crack in it was enough to make him turn instantly. His gaze followed yours to the puddle on the floor, and his face went pale.

“Shit”, he muttered, rushing to your side. His hands were on you in an instant, steadying you as your knees buckled. “Hey, hey—breathe, baby. Look at me”.

You couldn’t. Your eyes stayed glued to the puddle as the enormity of what was happening crashed over you. “She’s not ready”, you whispered, trembling violently. “Ben, she’s not ready. It’s too soon!”.

His hands gripped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His green eyes were fierce, burning with the determination you’d always relied on. “Stop”, he commanded, his voice steady even as his own panic simmered beneath the surface. “You hear me? You don’t get to spiral. Not now”.

“But—”, you started, tears streaming down your face as you clung to his arms. “She won’t survive. I won’t—”.

“You will”, he said sharply, cutting you off as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours. “You both will. I don’t care what the odds are. I don’t care what anyone says. You’re going to fight, just like you promised me. Just like we promised her”.

Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, his words grounding you even as terror clawed at your throat. “Ben, what if—”.

“No!”, he interrupted again, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “No what-ifs. We’re doing this. Together”.

You nodded shakily, letting him guide you to the couch. Every movement sent sharp pangs through your abdomen, and you knew the contractions weren’t far behind.

Ben didn’t waste a second. “Stay here!”, he said, his voice steady despite the storm of emotion in his eyes. He guided you to sit back on the couch, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment before he rushed toward the bedroom. You heard the sounds of drawers being pulled open, zippers being tugged, and the hurried shuffle of his feet as he returned with a fresh pair of pants and your hospital bag.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get you changed”, he said, dropping to his knees in front of you. His hands were surprisingly steady as he helped you out of your damp clothes, his every movement careful and deliberate. “I know this feels like chaos right now, but we’ve got this. We’ve planned for this”.

Tears welled in your eyes, and your breath hitched as he gently pulled the fresh pants up your legs, avoiding any sudden movements that might worsen your pain. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this”, you murmured, your voice trembling. “She’s not ready, Ben”.

He looked up at you, his hands pausing for a moment as he met your gaze. “She’s a fighter”, he said softly, his green eyes full of conviction. “Just like her mom. And just like her dad. We’re going to get through this. You both are”.

His words steadied you, if only for a moment. You nodded, wiping at the tears on your cheeks as he finished dressing you and carefully helped you to your feet. You leaned into him, clutching his arm as he led you toward the front door.

“Almost there”, he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. “We’ll be in the car in just a minute”.

By the time you reached the car, your legs were trembling so badly that Ben had to lift you into the passenger seat. His hands were firm yet gentle as he buckled you in, adjusting the belt to sit as comfortably as possible around your swollen belly. “Hold on, baby”, he said softly, brushing a kiss against your forehead before shutting the door and running to the driver’s side.

The tires screeched as he pulled out of the driveway, the hospital bag tossed in the backseat. You clung to the armrest, your other hand pressed against your belly as a contraction tore through you. The streets blurred past the windows, the city lights flashing like distant stars.

“We’re going to the tower”, Ben said, his voice tight with urgency but still steady enough to comfort you. “They’re ready for this. They’ll know what to do”.

You nodded weakly, closing your eyes as the pain threatened to overwhelm you. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. “If something happens to me—”.

“Stop”, he interrupted, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Nothing is going to happen to her. You’re both going to be fine. You hear me?”.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you nodded, unable to argue with the determination in his voice. “I hear you”.

Minutes later, the tower came into view, its lights glowing against the dark sky like a beacon of hope.

Ben pulled into the underground parking lot of the tower, the car skidding to a stop in a space closest to the elevator. Before he even turned off the engine, he was out of the car, moving around to your side. The moment he opened the door, he saw the pain etched across your face and his heart clenched.

“Hold on. We’re almost there”, he said, his voice steady, though his hands trembled slightly as he unbuckled your seatbelt.

When you turned your head, through the haze of pain, you saw Dr. Collins standing near the elevator with two nurses, a gurney ready and waiting. Ben had thought ahead—he’d called on the way, his voice sharp with urgency but clear, ensuring everything was prepared for your arrival.

“Ben”, you whimpered, your breath hitching as another contraction wracked your body.

“I’ve got you”, he murmured, slipping an arm under your knees and another behind your back to lift you effortlessly out of the car. His movements were swift but gentle, his jaw set as he carried you toward the waiting team.

“Alright, let’s get her upstairs. We’ll do an immediate assessment. We’ve prepared a NICU already.. just in case", Dr. Collins mumbled.

Her words were professional, but they hit you like a sledgehammer. Just in case. It was a contingency plan, one you’d prayed you’d never need. You clung to Ben’s shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“She’s going to be fine”, he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt as he lowered you onto the gurney. “Both of you will”.

The nurses secured you quickly, their hands gentle but efficient, and within moments, you were being wheeled toward the elevator. Ben didn’t let go of your hand, walking alongside the gurney as they moved. His presence was a lifeline, his grip anchoring you as you fought to keep your composure.

Dr. Collins stepped into the elevator with you, giving Ben a reassuring look as she spoke. “We’ll monitor her vitals closely and keep you updated every step of the way. You’re in good hands”.

Ben´s gaze flicking between you and the doctor. “I’m not leaving her”.

“No one’s asking you to”, Dr. Collins replied with a small nod.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity, the sterile hum of the machinery broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the faint murmur of the nurses discussing preparations. Ben leaned close, his forehead brushing yours as he whispered, “Breathe with me, sweetheart. In and out. That’s it”.

You did your best to follow his lead, focusing on his steady presence rather than the sharp waves of pain radiating through your body. The doors slid open to reveal a team waiting in the hospital suite, everything prepped and ready to go.

As they wheeled you in, Ben kissed your forehead again, his voice low and resolute. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”.

Dr. Collins took charge, issuing instructions as the nurses moved swiftly to transfer you onto the delivery bed. Monitors were attached, your vitals checked, and the room became a whirlwind of activity. Through it all, Ben never let go of your hand, his presence a constant in the chaos.

As another contraction hit, sharp and unrelenting, you cried out, your grip tightening on Ben’s hand.

Dr. Collins stepped to your side, her expression calm but focused. “We’re going to do everything we can to keep you both safe. But we need to move quickly. Are you ready?”.

You nodded through the haze of pain, your free hand instinctively going to your belly. “Do whatever it takes”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “Just save her”.

Ben’s hand tightened around yours, his voice low and fierce. “They’re saving both of you. You hear me? Both of you”.

His words carried a conviction so strong that for a moment, you let yourself believe it, holding onto his strength as the team prepared for what came next.

The last hour had been a blur of pain, fear, and sharp commands from Dr. Collins and the nurses. Every contraction felt like it might split you in two, but still, you weren’t allowed to push. Dr. Collins kept coming to your side, her calm but stern voice telling you to hold on just a little longer as she checked your progress.

You barely registered her actions as she adjusted the monitors, checked your vitals, and injected a smaller dose of the V Medication into your IV line. “This should stabilize her heart rate and ease the strain on her system”, she explained to the nurse, but you could feel the tension in her voice. The words barely registered as you clung to Ben’s hand, trying to breathe through another wave of contractions.

Ben, however, wasn’t as calm. His green eyes burned with frustration and worry as he hovered over you, his other hand pressed against your forehead to brush away the sweat that had gathered there.

Dr. Collins leaned over you, her eyes scanning the monitors before she looked at Ben and then back to you. Her expression was serious but composed, as if she were trying to mask the gravity of the situation. “This isn’t going to be a normal birth”, she said finally, her voice steady. “Not with your body in the condition it’s in”.

You tensed, gripping Ben’s hand tighter as fear clawed at your chest. “What does that mean?”, you rasped, your voice barely audible over the beeping monitors.

Dr. Collins sighed, glancing briefly at the nurse beside her before returning her gaze to you. “The process itself is normal, technically speaking. Your baby is in position, and your contractions are progressing. For many women, this phase of labor can last for hours. But in your case…”, She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Your body is already under immense stress. The V Medication is helping, but it’s only a temporary solution. We need to get her out sooner rather than later to minimize the risks to both of you”.

Dr. Collins placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her tone softening slightly as she continued. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to administer a medication to help speed up the dilation process and fully open you up. It’ll prepare your body for delivery as quickly as possible so we can get the baby out safely”.

You nodded weakly, though fear gripped your chest like a vice. “Will it hurt?”, you whispered, your voice trembling as another contraction rippled through your body, making you cry out softly.

“It may intensify the contractions”, Dr. Collins admitted, her expression apologetic. “But we’ll manage the pain as much as we can. The priority is delivering your baby as safely and quickly as possible”.

Ben’s hand tightened around yours, his voice sharp but not unkind. “Is this safe for her? For both of them?”.

Dr. Collins turned to him, meeting his gaze head-on. “It’s the best option we have right now. Time isn’t on our side, and we need to move quickly. I promise you, I’m doing everything I can to minimize the risks”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping yours like a lifeline as he turned to Dr. Collins, his voice sharp and on edge. “Why not a C-section?”, he demanded, his green eyes blazing with frustration and fear. “Why are we putting her through this? Just get the baby out!”.

Dr. Collins didn’t flinch, her professional demeanor unshaken as she looked him in the eye. “Because a C-section isn’t possible in her case”, she said calmly but firmly. “Not with the unique situation we’re dealing with”.

“What the fuck does that mean?”, Ben snapped, his voice rising. “What’s stopping you?”.

Dr. Collins sighed, casting a quick glance at you before speaking, her voice measured but empathetic. “You know your baby isn’t… standard”, she said carefully. “With a supe baby, the risks of a surgical delivery are exponentially higher. Her bone density, even at this stage, is far stronger than that of a typical newborn. A surgical incision could damage your her internal organs if the baby reacts defensively".

Ben blinked, his mouth falling open slightly as her words sank in. “So what—you’re saying this is the only way? That she has to go through this, no matter what?”.

Dr. Collins nodded. “Yes. A natural delivery is the safest option—for both mother and baby. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but this isn’t a decision we’ve made lightly. We’re working to keep them both alive, and this is the best chance we have”.

You squeezed Ben’s hand weakly, pulling his attention back to you. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “It’s okay. I can do this”.

“No!”, he said immediately. “It’s not okay. This isn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to—”.

“But I do”, you interrupted, your voice stronger now, even as your body trembled with the effort. “I have to. For her. For us”.

Ben closed his eyes as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“You’re here”, you said, your voice soft but firm. “That’s all I need”.

Dr. Collins stepped forward, her voice calm but urgent. “We need to move now. The medication is already working. You’re progressing faster than expected. It’s time to start pushing”.

Ben wiped at his face quickly, forcing himself to pull it together as he looked down at you. “You’ve got this”, he murmured, his voice steadier now.

You nodded, clutching his hand as another contraction hit, sharper and more intense than before. “I’ll try”, you whispered through gritted teeth.

“No”, Ben said fiercely, leaning closer so his forehead pressed against yours. “You don’t try—you do. You fight, just like you always have. You promised me. You promised her”.

Dr. Collins moved into position, her hands steady as she prepared for the delivery. “Alright, let’s do this”, she said, her voice sharp and commanding. “With the next contraction, I need you to push as hard as you can. We’re bringing this baby into the world”.

As the next contraction hit, you bore down with every ounce of strength you had left. But then it happened—a sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room, followed immediately by a searing, unimaginable pain that tore through your body. A scream ripped from your throat, raw and primal, the sound of agony escaping before you even realized it.

Dr. Collins froze for a fraction of a second, her sharp instincts kicking in as she muttered, “That was the hipbone”. Her face tightened as she instantly barked out orders. “Get me another dose of the V. Now!”, she snapped at a nurse, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. The nurse moved quickly, her hands steady despite the tension in the room.

Tears streamed down your face, and your vision blurred as the pain radiated outward from your hip, mingling with the already overwhelming agony of labor. Your body was a battlefield, each part screaming in protest as you struggled to keep going. The V medication burned like fire in your veins as the nurse injected it into your IV, the sensation almost as unbearable as the pain itself.

“I’m here, (Y/N), I’m here”, Ben’s voice broke through the haze, low and trembling with helpless desperation. He clung to your hand as though he could transfer his strength into you.

But you couldn’t tell what hurt more—the relentless waves of labor, the fiery burn of the V surging through your veins, or the white-hot pain from your shattered hipbone. Everything blurred together into a cacophony of torment, your body fighting against itself as you struggled to bring your baby into the world.

“I can’t”, you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Ben, I can’t—”.

“Yes, you can”, he said firmly, his voice breaking but resolute. “Look at me. Look at me, sweetheart”. His hand cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re not giving up. Not now. Not when you’re this close. You’ve got this. You do”.

“I—”, you sobbed, your body convulsing as another contraction gripped you. The pain was unbearable, tearing through you like a storm.

"Come on, another push”, Dr. Collins urged, her voice cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “You’re so close. The head is crowning”.

You sobbed, trembling with the effort as you clung to Ben’s hand, his steady grip the only thing grounding you. The fire in your veins from the V medication clashed with the excruciating pain radiating from your shattered hipbone, but you knew you had to push. You had to keep going.

Gritting your teeth, you gathered what little strength you had left and bore down. But as you did, an ear-piercing crack filled the room, followed by another and another, sharp and sickening. The pain ripped through your chest, and you screamed, your voice breaking as it echoed off the sterile walls.

Dr. Collins froze for a moment, her face going pale as she muttered under her breath, “More V. Now!”.

The nurse hesitated for a split second, her hands shaking as she prepared another dose of the volatile medication. The fire in your veins intensified as the V was injected, and for a moment, the room spun. Your body felt like it was on the verge of tearing itself apart.

Ben was barely holding it together. His face was a mask of desperation and fury as he looked from you to Dr. Collins, his voice breaking as he yelled, “She can’t fucking take more of this! Do something, for fuck’s sake!”.

“We’re doing everything we can!”, Dr. Collins snapped, her voice tight with focus as she monitored your vitals. “She’s too far along. We’re almost there. One more push, and the baby will be out”.

But then the heart monitor next to you spiked, the alarm blaring as your heart rate climbed to levels that should have been impossible. The nurse froze, her face pale as she turned to Dr. Collins. “Her heart—”.

“I know!”, Dr. Collins cut her off, her tone sharp. “We don’t have time. One more push, and we can stabilize her after”.

Your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges as the pain reached an unbearable crescendo. Your body screamed for relief, for rest, but you knew there was no stopping now. You had to push. For her. For Ben. For the life you’d fought so hard to bring into the world.

Ben leaned closer, his hands cupping your face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Sweetheart, listen to me”, he said, his voice breaking but fierce. “This is it. Just one more. One more push, and she’ll be here. You can do this. Please, baby. Just one more”.

You nodded weakly, tears mixing with sweat as you locked eyes with him. His belief in you was the only thing keeping you tethered to the moment. Gathering every ounce of strength left in your shattered body, you bore down, screaming through the agony as you pushed with everything you had.

“The head’s out!”, Dr. Collins shouted, her voice sharp with urgency. “Just a little more. One final push”.

“I can’t”, you sobbed, your body trembling violently, but Ben shook his head, his voice fierce and desperate.

“Yes, you can”, he said, his voice trembling with raw emotion. “You will. You’re almost there. Just one more, sweetheart. One more”.

With a guttural scream, you pushed one last time, the pain so blinding it felt like you might pass out. And then, suddenly, the pressure released, and the sound of a baby’s cry filled the room.

“She’s out!”, Dr. Collins announced, holding up the tiny, wriggling baby. Her voice was laced with both relief and urgency as she quickly handed the baby to a nurse for evaluation. “She’s breathing”.

The moment Dr. Collins handed the baby to the nurse, everything shifted. Your body collapsed back against the bed, limp, lifeless. The room blurred into chaos as the flatline from the heart monitor pierced the air, the steady rhythm replaced by a single, shrill tone.

Ben’s hand was still wrapped tightly around yours when he noticed your grip falter. His sharp eyes flicked to your face—pale, unmoving. His stomach twisted into a knot. “Hey!”, he said, his voice low but edged with alarm. “Don’t pull this shit. Wake up!”.

No response. His jaw tightened, his grip on your hand unrelenting as he turned his attention to Dr. Collins.

“Her heart’s stopped”, the nurse shouted, already moving to start compressions.

“Fix it!”, Ben barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now!”.

Dr. Collins didn’t flinch under his glare. “We’re on it”, she said sharply, taking control of the room. “Start CPR! Push epinephrine! Let’s move!”.

The nurse jumped onto the bed, her hands pressing down on your chest in a steady rhythm. Your fragile body jerked with every compression, but Ben didn’t waver. His eyes were locked on your face, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. His free hand ran through his hair, the tension rolling off him in waves.

“You don’t get to quit”, he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Not after everything you’ve been through. Not now”.

Another nurse injected a fresh dose of epinephrine into your IV line, the room buzzing with urgency as Dr. Collins monitored your vitals. The flatline persisted, the sound digging into Ben’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.

The sound of the baby’s cries echoed from the corner of the room, high-pitched and desperate, but Ben didn’t even glance in that direction. His focus was locked on you, his jaw clenched tight enough to grind steel as the flatline persisted, stabbing into his ears. The chaos around him was deafening—nurses barking commands, the rhythmic thud of compressions on your chest, the baby wailing—but none of it mattered. The only thing he saw was you, lying pale and still, as though life itself had abandoned you.

“You don’t get to check out on me. You hear me?”, he growled, his voice low but sharp, aimed entirely at you.

Dr. Collins worked frantically, barking orders while keeping an eye on the monitor. “Push harder”, she commanded the nurse performing CPR. “We still have a chance. Don’t stop”.

“You promised me”, he said, his tone carrying the weight of a command. “You don’t break promises, do you? You don’t give up. You’ve fought through worse than this”.

The baby’s cries grew louder, but still Ben didn’t waver, his eyes scanning your face for even the smallest sign of movement. Nothing. His chest tightened, the weight of helplessness gnawing at his core. He hated this feeling, hated it more than anything. He was the one who told you you’d make it, who swore that you were strong enough to survive. Now it felt like those words were slipping through his fingers along with your life.

“It’s your fight now. And you’re not a quitter. You don’t get to quit on me, on her”, Ben gestured sharply toward the crying baby without looking, his voice rough but steady. “She needs you. I need you. So get your fucking ass back here”.

For a moment, there was nothing but the relentless beep of the flatline. Ben’s grip on your hand tightened again, his jaw set like stone as he refused to look away, refused to give in to the gnawing fear creeping up his spine. The tension in the room was suffocating.

Then—finally—a faint, broken beep sounded from the monitor.

“Got it!”, one of the nurses called out. “We’ve got a rhythm!”.

Dr. Collins’ head snapped up, her sharp eyes locking onto the monitor. “It’s weak, but it’s there”, she said quickly, already issuing new orders to stabilize you. “Keep her going. Let’s stabilize her and prep for ICU”.

Ben didn’t move, his hand still gripping yours like a lifeline. His jaw relaxed just a fraction, and the slightest flicker of relief passed over his face.

Your breathing was shallow, your chest barely moving, but the faint rhythm on the monitor was enough for the medical team to spring into action. Ben stayed rooted beside you, his hand never leaving yours as they worked to stabilize you.

The baby’s cries quieted in the background as one of the nurses approached with her, swaddled and calm. “She’s alright”, the nurse said cautiously, holding the baby close.

Ben glanced over, just briefly, his expression hard to read. He nodded, his eyes flickering back to you as the nurse hesitated. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even when the nurse stood a few feet away, holding the baby. His baby. The tiny, swaddled figure that had caused all of this.

The thought clawed at his chest, a mix of anger and guilt boiling under the surface. You were in this position because of him. Because you carried his child. You’d fought for months, your body breaking piece by piece, all because he had been too stubborn to see the risks. And now, as you lay there with your life hanging by a thread, the full weight of it crashed down on him.

“Sir…”, the nurse said hesitantly, holding the baby closer. “Do you want to—”.

“No!”, Ben snapped, his voice sharp enough to make the nurse flinch. His eyes didn’t leave your face, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’m not leaving her”.

The nurse hesitated, then quietly stepped back toward the other corner of the room, her eyes darting between him and Dr. Collins, who was still focused on stabilizing your vitals. The tension in the room was thick, oppressive, but Ben didn’t care. The baby could wait. Everything could wait. All that mattered was you.

Your chest rose and fell shallowly, the faint rhythm on the monitor the only sign you were still fighting. Ben’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, his touch almost gentle despite the frustration simmering beneath his exterior.

Dr. Collins glanced up briefly, her expression grim but focused. “She’s stable for now”, she said, her voice tight. “But her condition is critical. We need to move her to the ICU immediately”.

Ben straightened slightly, his broad shoulders taut as he stared down at you. “Then move her��, he said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Do whatever the fuck you have to do. Just make sure she fucking stays alive”.

Dr. Collins nodded, motioning for the team to prepare the transport. As they worked to secure you for transport, Ben finally turned his head, just slightly, toward the nurse holding the baby. His gaze flickered to the tiny figure, her small face scrunched in confusion as she let out a soft whimper. The sight made something twist in his chest—something raw and unfamiliar—but he quickly shoved it down.

“I’ll look at her when she’s ready to see her mom”, he said gruffly, turning his attention back to you. “Not before”.

The nurse nodded silently, stepping back again as the team began to wheel you out of the room. Ben followed without hesitation, his hand still gripping yours, his presence as unyielding as ever.

As they moved through the hallway, his voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for you. “You’re going to wake up, sweetheart. And when you do, we’ll figure the rest of this out. Together. But don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you fucking dare”.

His words were a promise, a command, and maybe even a prayer, though he’d never admit it. Ben didn’t know what came next, but he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting you go. Not now. Not ever.

Hours dragged by in agonizing silence, broken only by the steady rhythm of the monitors tracking your vitals. Ben sat slouched in the chair beside your bed, his elbows resting on his knees, one hand still wrapped tightly around yours. He hadn’t moved in hours, his green eyes fixed on you, unblinking. He looked like a soldier on a stakeout—tired, tense, but laser-focused. Not once had he checked his phone to text your parents or anyone else. None of them mattered right now. Only you.

Every so often, his grip on your hand would tighten as if daring you to let go, as if willing you to stay tethered to him. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, most of them sharp and bitter. He hated the helplessness, the fact that he couldn’t fight this battle for you. But more than anything, he hated the small, nagging voice at the back of his mind whispering that he might lose you.

When Dr. Collins came into the room for the sixth time, Ben straightened in his seat, his sharp gaze snapping to her like a hawk locking onto its prey. “What’s the update?”, he asked immediately, his voice gruff but steady.

Dr. Collins glanced at the monitors, her expression softening just a fraction. “She’s passed the most critical hours”, she said, her tone calm but encouraging. “Her vitals are stabilizing. The V has done its job—her broken bones are healing, and her internal injuries are no longer life-threatening”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his grip on your hand relaxing just slightly. “But?”,

Dr. Collins sighed, folding her arms as she leaned against the counter. “She’s still weak. Her body’s been through hell, and the pain meds are dosed pretty high. When she wakes up—and she will wake up—she’s going to be disoriented. Probably dizzy, confused, and definitely not herself for a while. But she’s made it this far, and that’s a good sign”.

Ben nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing by the smallest fraction, though the tension in his shoulders remained. “How long?”, he asked, his voice low. “Until she wakes up?”.

“That depends on her”, Dr. Collins replied. “It could be a few hours or a full day. Right now, her body just needs rest. And when she does wake up, she’ll need time to recover. Physically and emotionally”.

Ben huffed a quiet breath, shaking his head. “She doesn’t do ‘rest’ well”, he muttered, half to himself. “Stubborn as hell”.

Dr. Collins smiled faintly. “Then you’ll need to remind her it’s not a choice”.

He didn’t respond, his focus already back on you. Dr. Collins stayed for another moment, watching him silently before finally excusing herself. “Let me know the moment there’s any change”, she said, but she didn’t expect a response. She didn’t get one.

Ben didn’t move, didn’t look away from you as the hours continued to tick by. The soft, even beeping of the monitor was the only sound in the room. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. He looked rough—exhausted, even—but his gaze never wavered.

The soft creak of the door opening drew Ben’s attention, though his expression didn’t change. His sharp gaze flicked toward the nurse from earlier as she stepped in, her hesitance evident in every movement. She held your daughter carefully, the tiny bundle swaddled tightly and impossibly small. In her other hand, she carried a bottle of formula. The baby was sleeping soundly, her soft breathing barely audible over the hum of the machines monitoring you.

Ben straightened slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched the nurse approach. “What is it?”, he asked gruffly, his voice low and edged with impatience.

The nurse stopped a few feet away, her grip tightening protectively around the baby. “I—I thought…”, she began, her voice uncertain as she glanced between Ben and you. “It’s been a while. She needs to eat. I thought maybe… you’d want to—”.

“No”, Ben cut her off, his tone sharp and final. His gaze shifted back to you, his grip on your hand tightening.

The nurse hesitated, clearly uneasy as she shifted the baby in her arms. “She´s your daugther and she needs you right now. And… well, her mom would want her to be cared for”, she tried again, her tone softer, almost pleading.

Ben’s jaw tightened, his free hand flexing at his side as he stared down at you. The weight of the nurse’s words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. He didn’t look at her, didn’t look at the baby. He couldn’t. Every time he so much as thought about it, the gnawing guilt clawed at his chest like a live wire.

"She´s hungry", the nurse tried again, stepping closer.

Ben’s shoulders stiffened, his jaw working as he swallowed hard. His eyes flicked briefly to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms before snapping back to you. For a long moment, he didn’t move, the tension in his body palpable.

Finally, he exhaled sharply through his nose and stood, towering over the nurse as he extended his arms. “Fine”, he said curtly, his voice gruff.

The nurse quickly stepped forward, carefully placing the tiny, swaddled baby into Ben’s massive arms. For a moment, he sat there stiffly, glaring down at the little bundle like it was a ticking bomb. His arms didn’t move, his hands hovering awkwardly around her as if one wrong twitch might shatter her into pieces.

The baby scrunched up her face, letting out a tiny whimper as she squirmed in his hold, clearly uncomfortable. Ben’s brow furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “The fuck do I do now?”, he muttered, glaring at the nurse as though this was all her fault. “She doesn’t look like she wants some stupid milk”.

The nurse stifled a smile, stepping closer to adjust his hold. “You need to support her head more”, she said gently, guiding one of his hands to cradle the baby’s neck. “Like this. And hold her close. She needs to feel secure”.

Ben scowled but didn’t resist, shifting his grip reluctantly as the nurse adjusted him. The baby stopped squirming after a moment, her tiny body settling against his chest as she let out a soft sigh.

“Yeah, great”, Ben grumbled, glancing down at her. “She’s quiet now. But what about when she starts crying again? Or puking or whatever babies do?”.

The nurse handed him the bottle, her expression a mix of patience and amusement. “Right now, she just needs to eat. Hold the bottle like this”, she demonstrated, angling it toward the baby’s mouth. “She’ll know what to do”.

Ben hesitated, his lips pressing into a tight line as he stared at the bottle like it might explode. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he followed the nurse’s instructions, bringing the bottle to the baby’s mouth. To his surprise, she latched onto it immediately, her tiny lips working to drink the formula.

“Well, I’ll be fucking damned”, he muttered under his breath, his green eyes narrowing as he watched her. “Guess she does know what she’s doing”.

The nurse smiled. “She’s hungry. You’re doing fine”.

“Yeah, sure”, Ben muttered, his gaze flicking briefly to you before settling back on the baby. His expression was hard to read—equal parts frustration, guilt, and a strange, reluctant softness. “Not exactly what I signed up for, you know. This whole… baby-holding thing”.

The nurse nodded but didn’t comment, stepping back to give him space. Ben’s focus stayed on the baby, his brows furrowed as she continued to feed. She was so small, barely more than a handful in his massive arms, but the weight of her was immense. Every twitch, every tiny movement reminded him of why you were lying in that bed, pale and broken.

“You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”, he said quietly, his tone gruff but oddly gentle. “But I guess that makes sense. You’ve got her blood in you. Stubborn little thing”.

The baby’s tiny hand twitched, her fingers brushing against his chest. Ben froze for a moment, staring at her in disbelief before shaking his head. “Yeah, alright”, he muttered. “You’ve got a good grip. That’s a start”.

Your baby stirred in Ben’s arms, her tiny face scrunching slightly as her eyes fluttered open. They were wide, unfocused, and impossibly bright. Ben froze, staring down at her, his grip instinctively tightening to keep her steady. For a second, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but then it hit him—she already looked like you.

Sure, she was scrunched up, her face still raw and wrinkled from the early birth, but there was no denying it. The shape of her little nose, the delicate curve of her lips—it was you, in miniature. And those eyes, though too new to hold any recognition, had the same depth, the same spark that always seemed to cut right through him.

Something in Ben twisted, sharp and undeniable, as if someone had punched him square in the chest. His heart skipped, then pounded harder, faster, like his body was reacting before his brain could catch up. He didn’t know what the hell this feeling was, and he sure as hell didn’t like it. But it was there, clawing its way into him and taking hold.

“Well, shit”, he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a growl. His green eyes locked onto hers, and for the first time in hours, he wasn’t thinking about guilt or fear or what-ifs. He was just… staring. “You’ve got her eyes”, he said quietly, almost to himself. “That’s not fair. You’re already pulling fucking stunts”.

The baby blinked slowly, her tiny hand twitching against his chest, and Ben swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to do with this—this tiny, fragile thing that had flipped his world upside down in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t built for this. He wasn’t soft, wasn’t the guy who sat around cooing at babies or holding hands. And yet, here he was, cradling this tiny, stubborn miracle who looked so much like the woman he couldn’t live without.

His jaw tightened as he glanced at you, still lying pale and motionless in the hospital bed. “You’d better wake up soon”, he muttered, his voice rough. “Because I’m not doing this on my own. You hear me? She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger, and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing”.

The baby’s tiny lips parted in a soft sigh, her little chest rising and falling against his. Ben shook his head, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You’re a pain in the ass, just like your mom”, he murmured, though his voice had lost its usual edge. “But I guess that means you’ll turn out alright”.

The nurse, who had been standing silently near the door, cleared her throat gently, drawing Ben’s attention. “She’s responding really well to the feeding”, she said softly, smiling faintly. “You’re doing a great job”.

Ben snorted, his gaze flicking back to the baby. “Yeah, well, don’t start handing out fucking gold stars just yet”, he muttered, though there was no heat in his tone. “I’m just keeping her alive until her mom gets her shit together”.

The nurse stepped forward cautiously, her movements calm and measured, like she was approaching a wild animal that might lash out at any moment. “She’s finished the bottle”, she said gently, gesturing toward the baby. “You’re going to need to burp her now”.

Ben’s eyes flicked down to the tiny bundle in his arms, then back to the nurse. “Burp her?”, he repeated, his voice sharp with skepticism. “She’s not a fucking beer-drinking buddy. What am I supposed to do?”.

The nurse stifled a smile, clearly used to dealing with this kind of resistance. “It’s important”, she said patiently. “Babies need to burp after feeding, or they’ll get uncomfortable. Here, I’ll show you”.

Ben scowled but didn’t argue as the nurse stepped closer. “Alright”, she said, her tone still calm. “You’ll need to adjust your hold. Bring her up higher, like this”. She carefully guided his hands, moving the baby so that her tiny head rested against his broad shoulder. Ben stiffened at the adjustment, clearly unsure about the whole process.

The nurse continued, unfazed by his obvious discomfort. “Now, use your other hand to pat her back gently. Just a steady rhythm—not too hard, not too soft”.

Ben raised an eyebrow but followed her instructions, his massive hand moving to rest on the baby’s tiny back. He gave her a few awkward pats, the sound of his hand connecting with the soft blanket almost comically out of place in the tense silence of the room.

“Like that?”, he asked, his tone skeptical. “Doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything”.

“Keep going”, the nurse said with a small smile. “It takes a minute sometimes”.

Ben muttered something under his breath but continued, his large hand gently patting the baby’s back. She squirmed slightly against his shoulder, her tiny body shifting as she let out a soft hiccup. Ben froze, his green eyes narrowing as he glanced at the nurse.

“That it?”, he asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of curiosity.

The nurse shook her head. “Almost. She’s getting there. Just a little more”.

Ben sighed and kept going, his movements becoming slightly less awkward as he found a rhythm. After a few more pats, the baby let out a tiny burp, followed by a soft cooing sound. Ben stopped immediately, his hand hovering over her back as he stared at her in disbelief.

“There”, the nurse said, her smile widening. “You did it”.

Ben huffed, his lips pressing into a tight line as he glanced down at the baby. “Yeah, great. Now what? She gonna spit up all over me or something?”.

“She might”, the nurse said with a chuckle. “But it looks like she’s pretty content now. You’re doing fine, Soldier Boy".

The nurse gently guided Ben as he settled the baby back into a more comfortable position in his arms, her tiny body cradled against his broad chest. “If you need anything, just ring”, the nurse said softly, her smile warm but cautious as she stepped back. “You’re doing better than most dads their first time. Trust me”.

Ben rolled his eyes, but his grip on the baby remained steady.

The nurse left quietly, the door clicking shut behind her. The room fell silent again, save for the steady hum of the monitors and the baby’s soft, rhythmic breathing. Ben stared down at her, his expression skeptical but not unkind. She was so damn small. He could practically hold her in one hand, and yet somehow, she’d managed to upend his entire life in just a matter of hours.

“Alright, kid”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “You’ve had your bottle, you’ve burped. What now? You gonna start crying, or are you gonna let me sit here in peace?”.

As if in response, the baby’s face scrunched up again, her tiny features twisting as she squirmed slightly in his arms. Ben raised an eyebrow, watching her warily. “What’s that look for?”, he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You’re not gonna puke, are you? ‘Cause I’m not cleaning that shit up”.

But instead of crying or spitting up, the baby let out a soft, squeaky fart. Ben froze for a second, staring at her in disbelief, before a snort escaped him. He tried to stifle it, but it was no use. A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest, low and unexpected, as he shook his head.

“Well, that’s one way to make an impression”, he muttered, his lips twitching in a faint smirk. “Guess you’re not as fucking delicate as you look, huh?”.

The baby shifted again, her tiny fist brushing against his chest as she settled back into sleep. Ben stared at her for a long moment, his smirk fading into something quieter, almost contemplative. She looked so peaceful now, her little face soft and relaxed, completely unaware of the chaos she’d caused.

It was the faintest stir that pulled Ben’s attention away from the baby dozing in his arms. At first, he thought he was imagining it, his tired mind playing tricks on him after hours of waiting. But then it happened again—a subtle twitch of your fingers, a small shift of your head against the pillow.

Ben straightened instantly, his sharp green eyes locking onto you as his entire body tensed. “(Y/N)?”, he said, his voice low but urgent, cutting through the quiet hum of the room. “Come on, wake up”.

You stirred again, your eyelids fluttering weakly before they cracked open. The bright hospital lights above made you wince, and you let out a soft, groggy noise as you tried to make sense of where you were. Everything felt heavy, your body sluggish and numb from the medication coursing through your veins.

As Ben looked down at you, his sharp green eyes softened in a way that rarely happened. The weight of the past hours—no, the past months—seemed to crash over him all at once. You were awake. Alive. Against all odds, you’d made it. For a split second, a tear welled up in his eye and slid down his cheek before he quickly swiped it away with the back of his hand, muttering under his breath, “Damn room’s too dry”.

He shifted slightly, as his free one moved to the call button. “You hang tight”, he said gruffly, his voice carrying a faint tremor that betrayed the sheer relief coursing through him. “I’m getting Collins to check you over. Can’t have you going down again after all this”.

He pressed the button again and within moments, Dr. Collins appeared in the doorway, her expression shifting to one of relief the moment she saw you awake.

“Well, there you are”, she said warmly, stepping into the room with her clipboard in hand. “You’ve had quite the ordeal. How are you feeling?”.

You blinked up at her, your voice hoarse as you replied, “T… Ti.. Tired”.

Dr. Collins nodded, her gaze flicking to the monitors before she moved closer to the bed. “That’s normal. Your body’s been through a lot, and the pain meds are still in your system. Let’s take a closer look”.

As Dr. Collins began her examination, Ben still hovered near the bed.

“You’re stabilizing well”, Dr. Collins said after a few minutes, her tone encouraging. “Your vitals are strong, and the V medication did a remarkable job repairing the fractures. You’ll be weak for a while, but as long as you rest and take it slow, there’s no reason you won’t make a full recovery”.

Ben exhaled sharply, his jaw relaxing as the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. “So, she’s out of the woods?”, he asked, his tone clipped but tinged with something softer.

Dr. Collins nodded, glancing at him briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Yes, but she’s still healing. That means no overexerting yourself. And plenty of help from him”, she added, looking pointedly at Ben.

Ben snorted, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Yeah, don’t worry about that. She’s not lifting a damn finger till I say so”.

You let out a weak laugh, the sound hoarse but genuine as you looked up at him.

“You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack. Don’t think I’m letting you off easy”.

Dr. Collins chuckled softly, straightening as she finished her examination. “You’re in good hands”, she said warmly. “I’ll be back later to check in, but for now, just rest. You’ve earned it”.

As she left the room, Ben moved closer again. “You scared the shit out of me”, he muttered, his voice lower now, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.

You looked up at him, your eyes soft despite the exhaustion etched into your face. “I’m sorry”, you whispered. “I didn’t want to leave you. Either of you”.

Ben shook his head, his jaw tightening as he glanced away for a moment. “Yeah, well… you didn’t. That’s what matters”. He hesitated, then looked back at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen. “You’re tougher than anyone I’ve ever known, you know that?”.

A faint smile curved your lips as you gazed down at the baby in Ben´s arms.

"I wan´t to hold her".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

Part 30

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys soldier boy #the boys fanart #his second exception

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