not sure if I've already requested this so sorry if I have haha,
but how would the m6 react to a mc with sh scars? if it's not too heavy of a topic for you, if it is, I completely understand that :)
The Arcana HCs: M6 when MC has SH scars
~ not too heavy at all, anon, I'd actually been hoping to write this at some point and your request gave me that excuse! to anyone else who relates a little too much: you're not alone, your pain is valid, and there is hope for you even when it doesn't feel like it - brainrot ~
CW for: references to scarring and self-harm. I can remember points in my life when this would have been triggering for me to read. If this would be triggering for you too, please prioritize your health.
Julian
He noticed early on that you'd get a strange look on your face when he mentioned being comfortable with experiencing pain, and he's been curious about why for some time
You generally found a way to hide them - whether with your clothes or in the low lighting - until after you defeated the Devil, which was when Julian was less distracted enough to notice more details
Like the unusual textures that appeared when your clothes shifted as you moved around your daily tasks, and how hellbent you seemed on immediately adjusting them
He waits to approach the subject until he knows you're both in a calm headspace, after the day is done as the two of you lounge in front of the fire with your dinner
He wants to hear your side of things, but the first thing he's going to ask is to let him look at them. He's a doctor, he loves you, and he wants to know the extent of the damage and how he can help your healing
Might cry a little, but hides it and refuses to make it about himself by pulling you into the biggest hug instead
It throws him into some serious self reflection, which leads to lots of late-night talks about self-destructive habits and how you two can best support each other in a way that's loving and not enabling
Will get a matching tattoo if you choose to cover them that way
Asra
The first time they saw them was right after your resurrection, and their heart sank right down into their feet
Here he felt like he'd just saved you, only to find that you'd not only woken up in a miserable state, but that the life you'd had before had been far more painful for you than he had been aware of
Which is when they became determined to give you such a good life and so much platonic love and support that the scars on your body would truly belong to a past life
The first time you asked him about why you had them, he said they were leftover from an old battle that you had fought very bravely. Going into any more detail only made your headaches worse
They did watch your behavior and mood closely, though, in case you started to fight that battle again. They never judged you for them or offered to smooth them over
After you defeated the Devil together, he told you the truth about them and what they meant, even though he didn't know the details of why you had them
It was also their chance to give you an apology for not noticing before you died, when they were still your friend and cared about you. They know it's not their fault, but the guilt was still there
He kisses them every morning and night
Nadia
She's heard vague stories from her family members about people who were in so much pain that they would self harm, but she'd never seen such a strong example in person
Which is why she initially assumed they were the result of some fierce battle or tragedy, and planned to ask you later
She first noticed them when she was fitting you for a new outfit, and saw how hesitant you were to let her look at them. Everything she's made for you since covers them completely
She finally asks about them several months into your relationship, expecting you to either not remember or to hear a moving story of conquering some fierce enemy or fighting for a loved one
To say that she doesn't expect your answer is an understatement. It surprises her so much that her only response is "oh," in an unusually small voice, before moving on to the next topic
She's able to process it the next time she's alone, when she's struck both by her awe at your capacity to fight something so dark and by her grief that you've been doing it without her all this time
Clears her next evening to have a private dinner with you, first so she can apologize for her initial response and second so she can invite you to tell her more about it and offer her support
Likes to dress you herself so you know you're not alone or unseen
Muriel
Knew exactly what they were as soon as he saw them, which was less than half a day into your travels South with Morga
And promptly refused to talk about it because he can relate to those dark impulses more than he'd like to and because he didn't see it as being any of his business. But he does start to watch you
He watches for any sign of pain, he watches how you fix your clothes, he watches how your gaze falls on any sharp object, because even if it isn't his business he cares more than he expects
He becomes less and less discreet about how closely he's observing you until you finally notice it one evening, how the firelight falls on your scars and how his eyes fixate on them
At this point the reciprocated staring is so awkward that he'll do anything to fix the tension, so he shuffles and mumbles something along the lines of "You can talk about it if you want to. I don't mind."
So you do, and he gets hit square in the chest with how much he's come to care about you over the course of the trip
He's especially frustrated because he empathizes so deeply, and since he doesn't know how to fix himself, he's worried he'll only mess you up further
In the end, he learns to apply the kindness he feels towards you to himself as well, and sees your scars as valid as he sees his own
Portia
She's still very embarrassed (and slightly ashamed) for how things went the first time she saw them
She'd noticed something peeking out from your clothes, and how you seemed focused on covering them, and falsely assumed that it was some cool magical tattoo
Which only piqued her curiosity. This has to be juicy, and she's determined to get a closer look. Which is why, as soon as you'd become friends, she took her first chance to snatch a look
And then froze. And then dropped you, and then burst into tears. How could this happen, MC? Why would you do this to yourself? It looks like it must have hurt so much -
It's unfortunate but you're going to have to comfort her first while she works her way through the five stages of grief. She loves you, and she's heartbroken and confused about why this would happen
She needs time to process how she feels about it before she can listen to you without having a meltdown. Her normal response to self-destruction is a fist to the gut (Ilya) and that wouldn't do
Ends up following your cues when it comes to how she talks to you about it. If it's in the past, it's in the past. If it's a current struggle, then she's your partner. She'll be right next to you
She does think your fighting spirit makes you badass, though
Lucio
He's not great at noticing details unless they directly correspond to physical strengths and weaknesses. Any kind of scarring from a wound is (from his experience) a totally normal thing to see
When he starts to notice how you cover yours or get weird about them being touched, he asks about it right away
You've got such cool scars, MC, why are you hiding them? You should show them off so everyone knows how battle-tested you are! Here, he'll show his off too! *cue him stripping off his shirt*
It's a little difficult to know how best to respond to this. You're each other's life partners by now, he should probably know the truth, but you don't know how to burst his bubble
You do end up telling him later, once you're settling into your inn for the night, and watching the realization and hurt dawn across his face is anything but easy
MC, why? You deserve the best, you are the best, you're his best, you're telling him that you treated someone like yourself this poorly when you were showing him so much forgiveness?
He's not trying to guilt you at all, but it comes close to having that effect. The only thing he can think to do is hug you really really tight and hope it convinces you that you deserve better
Still refers to them as your battle scars, because to him they are
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I don’t know if this would be of interest to you to write for the AYW universe, but I’m kinda curious about Eddie & Brittany in the early years. Like Eddie’s reaction to becoming a dad for the first time, poor sweet Eddie trying to make things work with Brittany (I’m a sucker for angst, what can I say 🤷♀️) just a little insight to how our favourite mechanic was in the beginning
I love the opportunity this gave me to think about Eddie's past, especially in relation to his relationship with Brittany. @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write this with me and she came up with the best possible title for this story: It's Brittany, (The) Bitch
Warnings: childbirth, pre-Reader, Brittany being Brittany
Words: 4.6k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Eddie pulls his rusted van into the driveway of the small shoebox that currently serves as the Munson residence. He’s been working overtime to help save up for a bigger house, proving difficult with childcare expenses already beginning to pile up despite the fact that the baby won’t arrive for two more weeks.
He takes a deep breath as he kills the engine, preparing himself for the daily crisis; sure enough, he hears Brittany yelling on the phone before he even sees her. It can only be one of a few people that she’s talking to, and he just hopes she’s at least sitting down in a chair and not pacing back and forth.
Eddie lets out a sigh as he steps into the kitchen to find Brittany basically walking laps around the kitchen as far as the phone cord allows, one hand holding the receiver and the other on her 38 week baby bump.
Careful not to interrupt her conversation—if one could even call it that—he clears his throat with a soft ahem. Brittany raises an eyebrow at him in question, to which he responds by nodding his head to the vacant kitchen chair closest to her.
Brittany looks irritated, but takes the seat nonetheless.
“I have told you,” she shouts into the phone as she lowers herself into the chair, “I don’t give a shit what you think Uncle Julian is entitled to, he’s not getting a goddamn dime of Dyeda Alex’s money.”
Eddie long ago learned that it’s all around better for him to stay out of whatever drama Brittany’s family is currently brawling about—and there always is something. If there isn’t, they’ll create it, as evidenced by the Great Cheesecake Battle of 1990.
Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Brittany’s head, and she gives him a small smile as he walks out of the cramped kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. He cleans himself up from work, washing motor oil from his palms, and slips back into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Sometimes Brittany would make it, but Eddie’s been more and more insistent that she stay off her feet lately. Besides, Wednesday evenings mean that Wayne is coming for dinner; there’s something about providing a meal for the man who put his life on hold to raise him that warms Eddie’s heart. He only wishes that his cooking skills improved with practice, but based on the food he makes never tasting any better, they’re not.
He’s in the middle of tediously peeling potatoes when Brittany pushes herself up out of the chair, waddling over in the direction of the phone base on the wall. “If you tell her that, I swear on all that is holy, I will end you.”
Eddie smiles to himself as he goes back to the potatoes. He very well knows his wife means what she says, and her threat should not be taken lightly.
“Whatever. Bye.” Brittany slams the receiver down on the phone base and lets out an irritated groan.
“So,” Eddie starts off smugly, “how’s the Sobachkin family doing?”
“They’re all assholes,” Brittany mumbles as she walks over to get a water bottle from the fridge, chugging it like she’d just run a marathon.
Your sister is the biggest asshole of all, but you seem to love her, Eddie thinks as he washes off his hands, drying them on a nearby dishtowel.
“How was work?” Brittany asks as she plops herself back in her chair, already relieved to be off of her feet again.
“Okay,” Eddie says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Wish they’d fire Mark, though. He’s more trouble than he’s worth with all of us having to fix his mistakes every time.” Eddie glances over his shoulder and sees Brittany staring at her nails, tuning out his side of the conversation. He sighs and goes back to preparing dinner. His fault for thinking she might actually be listening to him, he thinks. “How’re you feeling?”
“Pregnant,” she says flatly, placing a hand on her stomach. “Remind me why I decided to have your kid again?”
Because you allegedly love me, he says to himself, biting back the retort to avoid her wrath. But he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been thinking the same thing.
After a dinner of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes (neither of which were burnt, to Eddie’s delight), Eddie and Wayne sit on the front porch in identical wicker chairs. It’s a warm summer night, the fireflies occasionally blinking in the dusk, crickets chirping their familiar mating calls.
Brittany is inside resting; Eddie had asked if she wanted to come out with them, but she’d just wrinkled her nose and said it was too hot.
Wayne watches his nephew’s leg bounce up and down and his grip tighten on his can of Budweiser. They remain in silence until the older man can’t ignore it any longer.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on before you crush that full can of beer you got in your hand?”
Embarrassment paints a blush on Eddie’s cheeks, unable to deny the surge of relief flooding his body that Wayne brought it up. “Just…anxious, I guess.”
“‘Bout what?” Wayne asks, taking a swig from his own can.
“Becoming a dad. I mean, I had you raising me, but before that…” he bites his lower lip as he searches for the right words. “I’m worried I’ll be more like my old man than like you.”
Wayne shakes his head. “Eddie, you were meant to be a dad. And that kid is gonna adore you.” He offers a small smile as he recalls, “You’ve always taken care of people. Even back in high school, you were always looking out for the younger kids in that fantasy game club you ran.”
Eddie chuckles, but everything Wayne says is true. If he saw someone looking lost and lonely, he brought them into the fold. Don’t know how to play D&D? We’ll teach you. Welcome to Hellfire.
“I guess so. It’s different when it’s your own child, though.”
“I know you can handle it.” Wayne claps him on the back. “And I’m always here for ya. Whatever you need.”
Eddie smiles at him as Brittany comes outside, wearing the frown that seems to be permanently etched on her face.
“Eddie.” Her tone is clipped and irritated, though Eddie can’t remember doing anything wrong.
He quickly stands up, nearly spilling his drink. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”
She rolls her eyes. “You left me inside by myself while you two bullshit out here.”
“Eddie just needed to talk to me,” Wayne tries explaining. “We were about to head back in.”
Brittany crosses her arms on top of her baby bump. “Forget it. Clearly, I’m not a priority for you.” She motions to Eddie. “I’m going to bed, and I want to lock up, so you can come in now or sleep outside tonight.”
Eddie bites back his anger. She’s having your baby; just be patient. “Yeah, let me just toss this…” He shakes the empty can.
Brittany huffs, waddling back into the house without even saying goodbye to Wayne.
Eddie stops and gives his uncle a long hug. “Next time I see you, I might be a dad,” he grins. “Scary to think about, isn’t it?”
Wayne chuckles. “Nah, kid; you’re gonna be great.” He pauses for a moment, contemplating his words, before deciding to say what’s in his heart. “Listen, Ed; about—”
“Eddie! Let’s go!”
Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets. “I, uh, gotta get going. Thanks for coming over.”
Wayne slowly exhales as he watches his nephew shuffle into the house. “God, I hope he realizes he’s worth so much more than how she treats him.” He shakes his head and trudges to his car.
The sound of crying jars Eddie out of a peaceful sleep. His first instinct is that he needs to go check on the baby, only…the baby hasn’t been born yet. The fogginess of sleep clears away just enough for Eddie to realize it’s not the sound of a baby crying, and it’s coming from right next to him.
The moment he recognizes Brittany’s sobs (as he’s heard them many times over the course of this pregnancy), Eddie bolts up in bed and flicks his bedside lamp on.
“Britt? Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, voice hoarse from disuse.
Brittany’s shoulders shake as she cries into her hands, awkwardly—and probably uncomfortably—leaning back against her pillows. She tries to calm herself enough to speak, but she just keeps sputtering over her words. It makes Eddie even more nervous as he scoots closer to her and gently rubs his hand along her arm.
“T-The nursery isn’t done y-yet,” Brittany weeps before hiding her face back in her hands. She leans forward, bent in half as much as she can get with the swell of her belly so large.
The adrenaline coursing through Eddie’s body starts to calm down now that he realizes the life of his wife and child aren’t in danger. He yawns and reaches one hand over to rub soothing circles into the back of Brittany’s silky pajama top. Slowly, she pulls away from his touch and situates herself so she’s able to face him better.
“It’s not done yet!” she repeats, as if he didn’t hear her the first time. A hint of anger has joined the despair in her voice, the amalgamation of hormones creating another perfect storm.
Eddie lets out a sigh and runs a hand over his face. “Britt, I—”
Brittany doesn’t let him finish; she throws the blankets off of herself and starts pacing back and forth in the space between their bed and the wall. It’s not a large area, so really, she mostly looks as if she’s waddling around in a circle. Under different circumstances, Eddie might laugh.
“The baby could be here at any time and the nursery still isn’t finished!” A wail comes from Brittany’s lips and he knows that, as difficult as Brittany could be sometimes, this is fueled by hormones—not even she would be this worked up in her usual state.
Quickly, Eddie jumps out of the bed and walks around to her. He places his hands on her shoulders and stands in front of her so she can’t continue her walking. When she doesn’t look at him, Eddie ducks his head until their gazes catch.
“The walls are painted. The crib is put together. The shelves are up. Clothes are in the closet. All that’s left to do is put the last pieces of furniture together.” He tries to logic this out with her, hoping it’s the best course of action to get her to calm down.
“The dresser, the changing table, the toy chest…” Brittany rattles off the list.
“Which all can be done after the baby is born if it needs to be,” Eddie assures her. He cups her cheeks in his hands and takes a deep breath, wanting her to copy his actions.
Brittany begrudgingly takes a few deep breaths with Eddie, following his inhales and exhales until her system is a little calmer.
“They should be done before the baby is here,” Brittany says, sounding only slightly less upset than a few moments ago. She rubs at her runny nose and Eddie wipes a few stray tears from her face.
“We’ve got two weeks until your due date, hun. Don’t worry, it will get done.” Eddie truly believes this, but he knows his words probably don’t sound the most convincing since he was just jolted out of sleep.
Brittany nods but the emptiness in her expression leaves Eddie unsure if she actually heard his words or not. He’s too tired to question her on it though, so he gently leads her back to bed and helps her get situated. Or at least, as best as she can be this far along. Eddie knows how hard it’s been for her to get comfortable being this close to the end of the pregnancy, so he does anything he can to help.
Finally, Brittany is settled down in bed and Eddie goes back around to his side. He sits down on the edge of the mattress and flicks the lamp off. Regardless of the dark room, Eddie closes his eyes just to give himself a moment to try and compose himself.
By the sounds of the steady breathing, Brittany is already back asleep. These last two weeks were going to be hell for Eddie, he just knows it. They’re almost at the end of the tunnel when it comes to the pregnancy, but who knows what insanity will come along when the baby is finally here.
Figuring he should try to lighten the load that will be put upon him, he pushes himself off the bed and walks into the bedroom across the hall. Eddie tugs on the longest string connected to the ceiling fan and light floods the room, illuminating the partially completed furniture and the pale yellow walls. Eddie winces at how bright the lights are and tries to avert his gaze until he finds the small pile he put his tools into once he finished putting the crib together.
“Well,” Eddie sighs, “here we go.”
His stiff bones protest as he sits down on the floor. A few plush rugs are rolled up in the corner of the room, but since they’re not yet laid out, Eddie’s bony ass is about to be sitting on a hardwood floor the whole time. Pulling the necessary tools over to him, he gets to work on the remaining pieces of furniture.
By the time he’s done, he only has about an hour until his alarm goes off for work. The tightness and achiness in his body are even worse than they were before as he trudges back to bed, ready to take full advantage of those precious sixty minutes.
When his alarm goes off, Brittany gets up as well—she has to pee, unsurprisingly. Eddie takes a cold shower to try and wake himself up, and the moment he steps out of the bathroom, Brittany is sobbing and wrapping her arms around his neck.
He wasn’t expecting her to be there, let alone, coming at him with a force like that, so he staggers back a few steps as he holds onto her. He’s glad he tied the towel around his waist as securely as he did, or he’d be a lot colder standing there in the hallway.
“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. Brittany sniffles as she pulls back and looks at her husband through watery eyes.
“You put the rest of the furniture together,” she says through some wetter sniffles.
“Mhmm,” Eddie hums, still half asleep.
Brittany just buries her head in his neck again. Eddie loosely drapes his arms around her waist and lays his head on hers. He’s pretty sure he almost dozed off that way when Brittany pulls back and wipes the tears from her rounded cheeks.
“Thank you, Eddie. I know I overreacted last night.”
Eddie knows it too, but he’s not dumb enough to say that out loud.
“You’re allowed to have emotional reactions to things, babe,” Eddie tells her. He softly trails his fingertips down the swell of her belly. “You’re carrying our baby. Kinda gives you a bit of a hall pass.”
A week later, Eddie’s finishing up a brake job at work when his boss tells him his wife is on the phone. Immediately, Eddie knows it’s about the baby. He could probably count the number of times that Brittany has called his work on one hand in all the years he’s been working here.
“Hello?” Eddie answers the phone, not caring that he’s getting black, greasy fingerprints all over the receiver.
“In labor,” Brittany pants out, clearly in pain. “M-Meet at the hospital.”
“I’m on my way, hun.”
Everything is a blur as Eddie washes his hands, punches out, and climbs into his truck. Brittany’s in labor. Which means the impending arrival of the baby is upon him. Eddie feels a little dizzy at the thought, which is probably not great since he’s going about twenty miles over the speed limit on the way to the hospital.
The truck is barely in park as Eddie hops out of it and jogs over to the hospital doors. He asks the woman at the front desk where the maternity ward is, and he keeps mentally repeating the directions to himself so that he won’t forget them.
A nurse tells Eddie that Brittany is in room 361 and points him in that direction. The only noise filling the sterile, white corridor is the occasional beeping of machinery from the different rooms, and the squeak of Eddie’s work boots on the shiny linoleum tiles.
The first person that catches Eddie’s eye when he walks into room 361 is Sandy, Brittany’s sister. It takes everything inside of him to keep the disgusted noise he wants to make to himself. She’s not really his focus right now though, so Eddie forgoes a greeting to push past and get to his wife. Brittany is lying in the bed, a hospital gown on, and what seems like dozens of wires connected to her.
“Hey,” Eddie says as he approaches the bed. “How are you—”
“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Brittany gripes, looking him up and down. A nurse steps into the room, walking over to read some of the numbers on the machines Brittany is hooked up to, so his wife leans in and says through clenched teeth, “This is a hospital, and our baby is about to be born. Go home and clean up.”
Eddie’s tired and frazzled. He figured Brittany would want him by her side while she’s dealing with this initial pain. But her face clearly tells a different story. Eddie looks down at his coveralls and sees the oil smudges and grease handprints all over it. He should change, but he can’t bring himself to leave.
“Go home?” Eddie asks, voice small and confused. “By the time I get there, get cleaned up, then back here, it might be too late. Babe, what if I miss the birth?”
Brittany doesn’t seem too concerned with this, simply shrugging her shoulders and eyeing every little speck of dirt on the dark blue jumpsuit he’s wearing.
The nurse who is inspecting the machines looks up at Eddie and gives him a smile. “It’s still going to be some time now before the baby is born,” she assures him. “How far do you live?”
“Uh, about ten minutes away,” if Eddie recalls correctly—which he thinks he does, there’s just a lot flying around his brain right now.
“Oh, you should be fine, sweetheart,” the nurse says, waving a dismissive hand. “She’s still not fully dilated yet.”
As reluctant as he is to leave, the nurse’s words make the hesitancy lessen a little.
“I’ll, uh, be back.” Eddie turns and heads out of the room. He follows the reverse directions that got him to the maternity ward, back to his car in the parking lot. With speed that any NASCAR driver would be jealous of, Eddie gets back to the house and jumps in the shower.
In total, Eddie was probably in the house for ten minutes. But to him it felt like eternity. He’s itching to be in that hospital room with his wife and zooms back down the way from where he just came.
When Eddie gets back up to the room, nothing has changed—except for his clothes and cleanliness. Brittany’s in the same position, same miserable expression on her face. But in what is a pleasant surprise, Sandy vacates the chair next to Britttany’s bed so he can sit at his wife’s side. Eddie gives his sister-in-law a nod of acknowledgment as he takes his seat.
Eddie reaches for Brittany’s hand, and this time, she lets him touch her. He presses a few kisses to her knuckles before he gives her a small smile.
“How ya feeling?”
“Like I’m about to shit a bowling ball,” she responds, flopping her head back against her pillow. She does give Eddie a small smile in return though, which has him questioning how much pain medication they’ve already given her.
“Did your water break?” Eddie asks.
Brittany nods and her eyes dart over to her sister. “Sandy came over to keep me company and went into the kitchen to get us something to drink, but as I went to sit down on the couch, I could just feel this trickle of water going down the leg of my pants.”
“I heard the pop and thought she knocked something over with her pumpkin of a belly again,” Sandy says from behind Eddie.
“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Eddie says. No matter how much he may dislike Brittany’s family, he does have to give credit to Sandy for always being a good big sister to Brittany.
The nurse from before wasn’t kidding when she said that Eddie would be fine to come home and then come back. The next couple hours just turn into a waiting game. Each time a nurse comes in, the three in the room will perk up and hope there’s some news about when Brittany can start pushing. But so far, no dice.
Eddie tries to talk with Brittany to keep her occupied and her mind off the pain. Anything that seems to come to his mind is deemed stupid by Brittany and she won’t carry a conversation. So, Eddie tries to get her to talk about things that she enjoys.
“Do you still want to see that surfer movie that’s coming out soon? Hmm? The one with Patrick Swayze, who you love so much. Should I be jealous?” Eddie smirks, to show he’s just playing around with her, but Brittany couldn’t care less.
“Do you honestly think I’ll be able to go to a movie theater at all this month, Eddie? Really? I think I’ll be a little busy being up to my eyeballs in dirty diapers,” she snaps.
Her constant putting-down of his attempts at conversations is wearing on Eddie. He clenches and unclenches his fist as he takes a deep breath. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now, he thinks to himself. Eddie nods to himself, as if he’s psyching himself up to take all of this in stride.
Finally, one of the nurses’ visits pay off when she brings a doctor in who informs them that Brittany is fully dilated. Now, the staff scrambles to get necessary tools that are needed and set up near the foot of the hospital bed.
“They couldn’t have done this earlier?” Brittany grits out through her teeth, low enough for only Eddie to hear.
“All right, Mrs. Munson,” the doctor says as he slips his hands into a new pair of latex gloves. “Are you ready to try pushing?”
“You’ve got this,” Sandy says. She walks over closer to the bed and Eddie can feel his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s grasping the bed rail. The nurse who told him that he had time to go home earlier is in the room now and must notice Eddie’s obvious distaste for Sandy. The nurse catches Eddie’s attention by walking into his peripheral vision. When he glances up at her, the nurse looks in Sandy’s direction, then back to Eddie. Her eyebrows raise and eyes widen, as if she’s asking, “You want this bitch gone?” Eddie gives a subtle nod of his head, and amongst the flurry to get the room ready, the nurse leans in so that Sandy and Brittany can hear.
“It looks like we’re going to try pushing now,” the nurse says, a sweet professional smile on her face. “Which means we can only have the father in the room.”
Part of Eddie knows he should feel bad. But he’s paying for this room, and he wants it to be just him and his wife welcoming this little bundle of joy to the world for the first time.
Sandy presses a kiss to the top of Brittany’s already sweaty head, and even pats Eddie’s shoulder before heading out the door to find a waiting room to relax in.
Eddie tentatively takes Brittany’s hand, unsure whether or not touching her is the right choice, breathing a sigh of relief when she accepts and squeezes the hell out of it. Maybe it’s to offset the pain—or to punish him for getting her pregnant in the first place—but he chooses to believe it’s because she sees him as a source of strength and support.
“You’ve got this, Britt. You’re strong as hell, you can do this,” he cheers softly, tears already prickling in his eyes in anticipation of meeting his child. “Come on, baby. Just a little bit more to go.”
Thirty minutes and nearly one broken hand later, shrill little cries fill the room. It’s the most beautiful music Eddie’s ever heard.
He cries as the doctor announces that Baby Munson is a healthy little boy, handing Eddie the clamp to cut the umbilical cord. His son—his son!—is still covered in blood and vernix, but he’s still absolutely perfect.
While the nurses take the newborn to clean him up and wrap him in a blanket, Eddie takes the opportunity to give his wife a kiss on her perspiration-soaked forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You did so, so well. And…and now we have a son.”
Brittany is exhausted, making her a bit more mellow, and she hums her approval. She moves her head to kiss Eddie, eyes starting to flutter closed from exhaustion.
Once the baby is all bundled up, the nurse hands him to Brittany, maternal instincts kicking in as she awakens to hold him. Eddie watches in complete awe, unable to comprehend that this baby is his son. A little being that’s half him.
When Brittany hands the baby to Eddie, he holds him close and starts crying again, this time through a beaming smile. The way his tiny body fits perfectly in the crook of his arms sends a surge of overwhelming joy through Eddie’s veins. He instantly knows that being a dad is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and is the best thing that ever will happen to him.
He brushes his forefinger against the baby’s knuckles, comically small compared to his own. “Hi there. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m your daddy.”
“Do Mom and Dad have a name picked out for this little guy?” The nurse asks with a grin.
Eddie nods; they had already decided on Ryan for a boy or Riley for a girl.
“Ryan Wayne Munson,” he announces proudly. He’d always planned to honor the man who had raised him, even if it meant arguing with Brittany, who had claimed the name was “too old-fashioned.” Eddie rarely put his foot down with his wife, but this was a matter he’d insisted upon.
Two hours later, between constant check-ins and breastfeeding demonstrations, Brittany is able to sleep. Eddie sits in the corner of the room, just holding Ryan. He stares down incredulously at the baby in his arms, unable to take his eyes off of him.
Softly, Eddie begins to speak to his son. “I promise you that I will be the best dad I can be for you. I won’t be perfect, but I will do my best.” He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s amazing how I’ve loved you since the moment I knew about you. And now you’re here, in my arms. God, I love you so much more than you will ever know. My little Ryan.”
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