Archive of Our Own ^beta

Garden Lodge, London, 1987
“It’s truly new to me; that affection. I, I don’t know what you do. You make me think that you will change my life forever. I, I’ll always want you near. Give up on you my dear, I will never.” -I’ve Been Waiting For You, ABBA (Mamma Mia 2 edition)

The second Jim was in the door he found himself with an armful of his husband. Freddie stood on the tip of his toes to hide his face in Jim’s shoulder, arms tight around his neck.

“Well, that’s a warm welcome,” he laughed. He expected Freddie to laugh with him but when his husband looked up at him Jim couldn’t read the look on his face at all. Something like nervousness, something like excitement and something else entirely. Jim couldn’t guess what he was thinking. But as Freddie stared at him the tension melted from his shoulders and he took Jim’s hand, leading him to the stairs.

“I have something to show you.”

“Promising,” Jim smirked.

“It’s not sex!” That got a laugh out him at least. He knew full well it wasn’t sex; if it was Freddie would have just dragged him upstairs straight away, or said so with a bluntness that made Jim blush. On the rare occasions Freddie was shy about it he’d whisper it in his ear or already be upstairs waiting for him. So no, it wasn’t sex. Whatever the surprise was though he supposed it must be a good one. But then again, Freddie seemed so nervous…

There was nothing out of the ordinary in their room from what Jim could see. The only thing out of place was one of Freddie’s old silk scarves; it was bundled up on the bed. Jim hadn’t seen him wear the thing in years. The last time Freddie wore it he’d deplored his choice to buy it at all and swore up and down to throw it out or “burn it like the trash it is.” Typical Fred, he forgot to do so. Still, he’d described it as “utterly fucking hideous” so why was it thrown on their bed in a ball?

“The um, the scarf...You’d better pick it up.” Freddie backed away from him, biting at his thumbnail, an arm wrapped around his waist.

And, okay, it was hardly the strangest thing Freddie had ever asked of him. He picked up the scarf.

Four pregnancy tests fell out, tumbling onto the bed.

They were positive.

They were positive.

All four of them were positive, they were positive positive positive! But how? Freddie couldn’t have children. He told him so. When they really started getting serious Freddie had told him so. They’d been curled up in Jim’s bed together, Freddie’s head resting on his chest as he quietly explained it all. As he quietly said he wouldn’t blame Jim for dumping him.

“Just...Just so you know, darling.” His black hair fell in his eyes as he peered up at Jim. He looked tiny and vulnerable and far from being put off or let down, Jim only held him tighter, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Freddie,” he said. “Don’t be daft. I want you. ”

“But…”

“No buts, love. You’re stuck with me.”

He knew about the false alarms, he knew about the miscarriage. It was just a fact of their relationship, one Jim had long since accepted; Freddie couldn’t have children. There had been a sense of loss there, of course there had, he was only human. But Freddie himself had been more than Jim ever expected to get; generous, loving, funny with an almost childlike innocence about him. Jim fell in love with him with an ease that was almost scary. He’d been more than happy to proudly introduce Freddie as his. He didn’t think he could be any happier.

Not until now. Now he was over-awed, more amazed than he had ever been. It was the last thing he had expected, but suddenly the last few weeks made sense. Freddie had missed his last heat (not too shocking, sometimes it just happened), but he’d been getting sick in the mornings and when Joe took a playful swing at him two days ago Delilah had flipped. She’d started howling and screeching and dug her claws into Joe’s arm. She’d never acted like that before. All the cats suddenly followed Freddie like their lives depended on it. No, more than that...It was more like they were trying to protect him. Protect him and...and their baby…

Grinning, he turned to his husband.

“Really?”

There were tears in Freddie’s eyes but he was smiling. He nodded. Jim felt the absurd impulse to laugh, to cheer, to scoop Freddie up in his arms and never let go.

“You’re really...But I thought you couldn’t…?”

“I still don’t know if...If it’ll end well, darling, but…” He could see the fear building in Freddie’s eyes and that just wouldn’t do. In a flash he was across the room; he pulled Freddie to him and kissed him, wishing more than anything that he could just take all of Freddie’s fears away, wishing he could make him believe 100% that it would all be okay. Because Jim was sure it would be okay. How could it not be? It was more than okay it was amazing, a miracle, even better than Freddie agreeing to marry him, to bond with him. He was pregnant. They’d made a baby.

“It’ll be fine,” Jim promised him. “It’ll be more than fine. Fuck, Fred, you’re pregnant. ” His hands went from Freddie’s waist to his stomach and he couldn’t stop smiling if he’d been paid to. “There’s a baby in there. Our baby’s in there.”

Freddie’s smile was a cautious thing, shy in a way Jim rarely saw anymore. They held each other tightly, Freddie’s cheek resting on his shoulder.

“It’ll be fine,” Jim swore again. “I promise.”

“If you promise not to cry, then I’ll tell you just what I would say if I could be with you tonight. I would sing you to sleep, never let them take the light behind your eyes. I’ll fail and lose this fight. Never fade in the dark just remember you will always burn as bright.” -The Light Behind Your Eyes, My Chemical Romance

Jim knew everything about Freddie; he knew about the miscarriage. He knew that when Freddie talked about it his voice became stilted and awkward. He avoided eye contact. He’d get quiet and more often than not he’d abruptly change the subject. He knew it still upset his husband to think about it; he knew the years of false alarms and getting his hopes up had left their mark.

He didn’t realise just how much it upset Freddie to this day.

The first time Freddie bolted up in bed with a small scream, Jim thought his heart would burst right out of his chest. He sat up to find Freddie shaking and gasping for breath; his husband’s hands flew to his own thighs, wiping away blood that wasn’t there, blood he had been certain was there.

“Fred? Freddie, honey, what’s wrong?” For a sickening second he thought Freddie was having a miscarriage. He snapped on the bedside light, illuminating the scene. There was no blood and he breathed a sigh of relief. But Freddie was still crying, face pressed into his knees now, sobbing and gasping the way he did during a panic attack.

Shit, he thought and pulled Freddie against him. He knew the drill; don’t squeeze him too tightly, no loud noises; keep his arms pinned in case Freddie hurt himself by scratching at his arms or pulling his hair. He rubbed his hand up and down Freddie’s arm, quietly coaching; “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re alright. Come on, deep breaths. In...and out...In...and out...There we go, you’ve got it. It’s alright, honey, see? Come on, calm down, we’re okay, you’re okay, the baby’s okay…”

“T-there was so much blood, ” Freddie sobbed. “It was everywhere. ”

“Fred, you were dreaming, love. There’s no blood, you’re okay; you’re both okay.”

“No I wasn’t, there was so much of it, I- I didn’t think it would hurt that much, I…” Freddie’s arms jerked, trying to raise to his hair and Jim’s grip tightened, keeping Freddie pressed against his chest. It clicked; Freddie hadn’t just been dreaming, he’d been remembering.

And fuck if that wasn’t heartbreaking.

“Freddie? Fred, honey, listen to me; it was a dream. You’re safe, our baby’s safe, I promise.”

“But you can’t promise that.” Freddie pulled away from him, pulling out of his arms entirely. His breathing was evening out, there were still tears in his eyes but he’d stopped crying. His shaky hands went from his stomach to his legs and back again; he didn’t seem to know where to put them. “I...I don’t want to ruin this. I don’t want to mess up again, darling, I can’t do that again, I just can’t. ”

For the first time ever, when Jim reached for him, Freddie flinched away. Even he looked shocked at that. After a moment of them both staring at each other, Freddie sighed and flopped onto his back, arms wrapped around himself.

“I can’t,” he repeated. “I just...I don’t know what I’ll do otherwise.”

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you,” Jim vowed. “Love, I swear it’ll be okay.” But he couldn’t promise that either, what was he doing? Freddie wouldn’t listen to him in this state.

To his surprise Freddie rolled over, pressing himself against Jim’s side.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“For what?”

“Just...all of this, I suppose.”

This time when Jim held on he didn’t flinch back or squirm away. “You can’t apologise for being scared,” he told him. “It’s alright.”

It may not be alright right that second, but Jim was certain, bone deep certain, that it would all be okay. He couldn’t see it ending any other way. Somehow, he’d find a way to make Freddie believe it too.

“I love you,” Freddie told him and Jim smiled, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“I love you too, Fred.”

“Life is a road and I wanna keep going, love is a river I wanna keep flowing, life is a road now and forever, wonderful journey. I’ll be there when the world stops turning. I’ll be there when the storm is through. In the end I wanna be standing at the beginning with you.” -At The Beginning, Richard Marx and Donna Lewis

Funnily enough the first time the baby kicked was also on a day of an ultrasound.

Jim was finishing some garden work, checking on the koi pond yet again when he heard Phoebe shout; “Jim! Jim, get in here!” There he was, leaning out of the kitchen window, a massive grin on his face. He gestured impatiently and Jim hurried indoors. He didn’t even have time to wash his hands; Phoebe grabbed his arm and dragged him into the music room.

Freddie was sat on the piano; both hands were on his stomach; he was grinning fit to burst, occasionally letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. Joe was kneeling in front of him, a hand on Freddie’s stomach. He looked totally in awe.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked, at his husband’s side in an instant. Without a word Freddie grabbed his hands, ignoring the dirt and placed them on his stomach.

And he felt it.

One kick, then another and another.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, kneeling down next to Joe, never moving his hands. Joe leaned back, pulling his hand away, still beaming. Phoebe sat next to Freddie, an arm around his shoulders.

Jim couldn’t explain what he was feeling. Awe didn’t cover it. Love didn’t come close. That was his baby kicking. He could feel it, right there under his hands, kicking away and safe as could be. Because if they were kicking then surely they were okay?

“Hey you,” he said quietly, feeling another small kick. “Feeling active today?”

It really swept over him then; he was going to be a father. That was his baby and he suddenly knew, knew right down to his bones that he would do anything, absolutely anything to protect them.

He looked up at Freddie who was (there was no other word for it) glowing. Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen him so happy before.

“They’re okay,” he said with quiet awe and Jim chuckled, leaning up to press their foreheads together.

“They’re okay,” Jim said. “Of course they’re okay.” His smile was gentler then as he ran his hand through Freddie’s hair. “Told you so, didn’t I?”

Freddie laughed at him, a soft, somewhat shaky sound. He pressed closer to Jim; Phoebe and Joe slipped out of the room.

“You okay, honey?” Jim asked him and Freddie nodded, eyes shut, that sweet shy smile still in place.

“Perfect.”

Their doctor was a tall Beta man by the name of Robert Platt.

Jim considered himself to be a mellow Alpha- and he was- but the first time Doctor Platt put his hands on Freddie, Jim’s jaw was twitching and he pulled Freddie closer to him, as close to snarling as he’d been in years. He was surprised at himself and judging from Freddie’s wide eyes so was his husband. Doctor Platt only laughed.

“You’re hardly the worst I’ve seen Mr Hutton,” he said with a smile. “Plenty of Alphas get more protective around this time, it’s natural.”

He supposed that was true, but he was still embarrassed about it. Still, he’d calmed down since then and as they prepared for the ultrasound, he returned Platt’s greeting with a smile.

Sure enough, the ultrasound confirmed what the kicks had shown them; their baby was healthy as could be, safe and sound.

“Still can’t quite tell the sex yet I’m afraid,” Platt said with a rueful shrug. “But we’ll know soon enough, gents.”

The sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room and, as usual, Freddie was staring at the screen in awe. Jim had an arm around his shoulders, torn between staring at the screen and staring at Freddie. The first time they’d heard the baby’s heartbeat it had actually been Jim who cried and Freddie who did the comforting. Now both of them stared at the screen in quiet wonderment, holding hands and smiling.

“What do you think?” Freddie asked him. “Boy or girl?”

“Hm...Boy I think. You?”

Freddie grinned at him. “I think she’s a girl, darling.”

“I won’t argue with you then,” Jim said with a laugh.

Freddie must be doing better, must have finally been relaxing if he was thinking about the gender. Jim hoped so. He desperately hoped so.

“I don't need more reminders of all that's been broken. I don't need you to fix what I'd rather forget. Clear the slate and start over, try to quiet the noises in your head, we can't compete with all that. So, what if it's us? What if it's us and only us? And what came before won't count anymore or matter. Can we try that? What if it's you, and what if it's me, and what if that's all that we need it to be? And the rest of the world falls away...” -Only Us, Dear Evan Hansen

If you had told Jim back in 1980 “You’re going to marry and bond with a famous singer and he’s going to have your baby,” he’d have laughed in your face. Heck, if you’d told him “You’re going to find the love of your life in a club, he’s going to literally walk right into you,” he’d have laughed. Did he want to settle down? Most certainly. But fame and fortune weren’t exactly what he aspired to; he was happy to live simply, to avoid the spotlight. And yet here he was, married to the best (and he would fight you on this) singer in the world. And yet, despite the seeming impossibility of it, said Omega was carrying his child.

If you’d told Jim back in 1980 “Your husband is 5’7” with a twenty-eight inch waist” he’d definitely have laughed. He preferred tall men, broad men, someone his size or larger.

And, well, then along came Freddie.

He wasn’t perfect, no one was perfect, but he was easily the kindest and most generous man Jim had ever met. He fell for Freddie fast and he fell for him hard. Even when Freddie had quietly said “If you want to break up I wouldn’t blame you,” Jim couldn’t imagine leaving. He just couldn’t imagine life without Freddie by his side. When he learned about Paul Prenter he wanted to hunt the man down and rip his heart out, wanted to finish what Roger started. When he learned about Dazmen Yazadi he snarled at the thought of someone else trying to lay claim to his Freddie, let alone someone who wanted to change his Fred at all. When he read the rumours the papers printed he wanted to destroy their agencies. Anyone, absolutely anyone that called his husband, his Omega a slut didn’t deserve to have their work in print.

Freddie was so much more than his reputation. He was so much more than his stage persona. The public didn’t seem to care that he’d been hurt; if anything they seemed eager to add onto the pile.

Of course, with Freddie pregnant and showing the press pounced. He tried to keep up a brave face but he was terrified of what the added stress might do.

“It’s like they don’t have any human decency!” he grouched to Roger. If anyone would understand he figured it would be Roger Taylor. The band’s drummer had taken it upon himself to look after Freddie years ago. He was fiercely protective to the point that he even scared Jim at times. It had been his idea to pretend to date to keep Prenter (and those like him) away. It had been him to beat Prenter up at the Farm. It was, to this day, still him who defended Freddie in the press, outright calling the reporters every name under the sun. It was Roger who snarled and snapped and kept anyone he deemed unsuitable at arms’ length for years on end. Sometimes Jim wondered how he did it, where he got that fire from. Sometimes he wanted that fire for himself. Maybe if he was more temperamental, more like a typical Alpha, he’d do a better job of protecting his husband and unborn child.

But Freddie loved him with or without massive shows of possessiveness, so he supposed he must be doing something right.

Roger, lounging on a sofa in the band’s studio, nodded in agreement with him. He looked perfectly pissed off; cigarette hanging between his lips, foot tapping, eyes narrowed. There was still a crowd of reporters outside the building, all wanting to get photos of Freddie, to ask him questions and generally invade his personal space. They had always annoyed Jim but it was more than that now. Now he was resisting the urge to just break all their cameras and throw their notebooks in the Thames.

“Too right they don’t,” Roger growled. His eyes were narrowed in anger but there was still a shine of anxiety in them as they flicked to Freddie. Said Omega was across the room with Brian and Deacy, going over notes for a new song. Miami was outside, doing his best to get the press to leave.

“It’s just...It’s none of their business! This is private, it’s our baby. I can’t...I won’t let them upset him in this condition, he’s anxious enough!”

“If I had it my way I’d run them over.” Roger put his cigarette out, still frowning. He turned to Jim. “How anxious is he?”

Jim sighed. “Better than before, but...He’s still having a few nightmares.”

“Fuck.” Roger’s eyes flicked back to his best friend. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “He is getting enough sleep though?”

“He is.”

“Still getting sick?”

“A little, but the tablets stopped the worst of it.”

“Hm…” Roger’s foot was tapping again, a sure sign that he was more anxious than he was willing to say aloud. “Look after him, yeah?”

Both of them were looking at Freddie; Jim’s husband laughed at something Brian said, slapping the Alpha’s arm. His t-shirt rode up, exposing his bump and Jim’s heart melted.

“Always,” he told Roger, eyes still on Freddie.

“Every night I lie in bed, the brightest colours fill my head. A million dreams are keeping me awake. I think of what the world could be, a vision of the one I see. A million dreams is all it’s gonna take. A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make.” -A Million Dreams, The Greatest Showman

“We can tell the sex now if you’d like to know,” Platt said with a smile.

They looked at each other, hands clasped as always. They’d already discussed it.

Freddie turned to Platt and said, “We want to know.”

Platt’s smile grew. “Then congratulations; you’re having a girl.”

How to describe what he was feeling then? Jim wasn’t sure he had the words. He’d been shocked to realise Freddie was pregnant; awed and amazed, and then completely euphoric the first time the baby kicked. None of those words described how he felt now. They were having a girl, a baby girl of their own and it was overwhelming in the best way. Would she look like him or like Freddie? Would she grow up to be tall or small? Pale or dark? Would she be shy or outgoing? Would she love music like Freddie or flowers like Jim? What would she be like, this little girl?

December suddenly felt so far away, he wanted to meet her now.

Freddie squeezed his hand, grinning up at him without covering his teeth, eyes shining, joy radiating from him.

“We have to pick names now,” Freddie said and the idea seemed to delight him.

They had to decorate a room for her too; they could buy all the dresses and ribbons they wanted for her because they knew now. Should they pick an Irish name, an English name or an Indian or a Persian name? Should they go all out and design the girliest room imaginable or keep it simple? Jim couldn’t begin to wrap his head around it all, couldn’t imagine how to decide on just one option.

One thing was for sure; she was going to be the most spoiled little girl ever born.

Phoebe was in heat when they told him and the poor, hormonal man burst into tears, alarming Freddie terribly.

“Darling!?”

“I’m f-fine, s-s-sorry, Fred, I’m j-just so happy for you.” He hugged Freddie so hard he nearly lifted him off the ground- then proceeded to frantically apologise and ask if he’d hurt the baby.

Joe on the other hand let out a resounding whoop! and went on to claim that they could still name the baby after him, since Joe was totally a girl’s name, just call her Joanna, come on, don’t be a drag, etc.

Freddie had a gleam in his eyes that Jim knew all too well. It was the gleam that screamed PARTY.

And sure enough…

“Dear, we simply must have a gender-reveal party!” Both his hands wrapped around one of Jim’s; his eyes were sparkling, beseeching, and Jim sighed, knowing full well when he was beaten. That didn’t mean he didn’t put up a bit of a fight though. An admittedly meager fight.

“Honey, we’ve already told Phoebe and Joe,” he pointed out. “Why can’t we just tell everyone else normally?”

Freddie pouted. Actually, full on pouted, puppy-dog eyes and all, head tilted adorably. “Now where’s the fun in that?” he asked. Standing on tiptoe, he kissed Jim’s nose and added, “Please?”

That did it. He was beaten.

“You’re playing dirty,” Jim said, causing Freddie’s smile to widen. “But fine.”

“Every day of our lives, wanna find you there, wanna hold on tight. Gonna run while we’re young and keep the faith. Every day from right now; gonna use our voices to scream out loud. Take my hand, together we will celebrate every day.” -Everyday, High School Musical 2 Soundtrack

It wouldn’t be a Freddie party without going all out. There were pink and blue decorations everywhere. Even the cake was pink and blue. Well, the icing was anyway. The inside was pink sponge, courtesy of Phoebe; they’d cut the cake, revealing the sponge and voila. That was part of the reveal anyway. Or rather, a post-reveal. The actual reveal was a subject of debate; Freddie wanted something explosive. Jim wanted something simple.

They managed to compromise.

It was explosive, but simple; pink confetti was hidden inside three massive yellow balloons. Freddie and Jim would stab them with scissors, letting the confetti explode everywhere. No fireworks, no craziness, but still enough of a show to keep Freddie happy.

Another problem was drink; Freddie didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, but the poor man looked utterly miserable watching his friends get hammered while he was stuck with water and various fruit juices. He was too careful to have even one glass of champagne. It was endearing but part of Jim still worried about how anxious his husband was.

Still, he was having fun.

“It’s a girl, right?” Mary demanded. Freddie just kept smiling sweetly at her, causing her to groan in annoyance. “Come on, you can tell me!”

“No can do, darling, you have to wait like everyone else.”

“You told Joe and Phoebe.”

“How do you know that!?”

“Do you really think Joe kept his mouth shut?”

“JOE FANELLI!”

And he was off on the hunt after Joe who Jim could see was running rapidly back into the house.

“Farewell Joe, it was nice knowing you,” Brian said, taking a swig of beer. “Deacy’s still sulking that Joe and Phoebe know and we don’t.”

“It kind of just came out,” Jim said with an apologetic shrug. “They were the first ones we saw- plus they live here, they’d have noticed anyway once we started shopping for clothes and decorations.”

“Oh, is that why the nursery is locked?” Brian asked mildly.

“Wait, what-?”

“Roger tried sneaking into it. He figured you’d have girl or boy stuff in there.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighed. “I figured at least one of you would try that.”

Mary smiled and didn’t look even a little bit sorry when Jim looked at her.

“You have no proof,” she said. He was going to ignore that in favour of paying attention to Freddie; his husband was back, still looking huffy but no longer murderous. He took a rather angry sip of his water.

“You okay, Fred?” Brian looked far too amused.

Freddie huffed, sipping the water again. “I’d be better with champagne.”

“You can have one glass you know.” Brian’s tone was soothing, his expression concerned and caring, but Freddie still shook his head.

Before Jim could say anything- ask how he was, assure him he could have a small glass if he really wanted- Freddie turned to him and said, “So, shall we do the reveal now, love?”

Jim decided to question him later. He took Freddie’s hand as his husband shouted for everyone to shut up and pay attention.

As the pink confetti came pouring down he heard Mary scream “I KNEW IT!” and saw Veronica hand Anita a tenner with a pout. Roger, Brian and Deacy cheered loudly. Jer Bulsara was wiping at her eyes and Kashmira wasn’t far behind. Bomi smiled mildly, but his eyes shone. Jim looked around at all the beaming faces, all their friends clapping and cheering and he looked at Freddie, radiant and beautiful and hugged his husband closer, burying his face in Freddie’s hair. His hand went down to Freddie’s stomach, resting next to Freddie’s hand. The baby kicked and Jim grinned.

“Any name ideas yet, honey?”

“A few,” Freddie said. “How do you like Maeve?”

Maeve. He mulled it over. Maeve Hutton. A warrior queen of legend. ‘The cause of great joy, she who intoxicates.’ He loved it.

“It’s perfect,” he said and patted Freddie’s stomach. “What do you think, sweetie? Are you Maeve?”

She kicked in response, causing Freddie to laugh. “I think that settles it, darling.”

It did.

“But did you see the flares in the sky? Were you blinded by the light? Did you feel the smoke in your eyes? Did you, did you? Did you see the sparks filled with hope? And you are not alone, ‘cause someone’s out there sending out flares.” -Flares, The Script

The invitation came in the mail.

His niece, Bridget, was getting married in November. Jim and Freddie were invited, naturally, but Jim took one look at the date and doubt swamped him. He brought the invitation to Freddie; said man was resting in bed, trying to get comfortable.

He showed Freddie the invitation, but he was struggling with his own anxiety now. Of course he wanted to see his niece get married, he wanted to be there, but…

“The doctor said travelling so late in the pregnancy would be a bad idea,” he pointed out.

Freddie sat up, badly trying to hide his wince as he did. He’d been exhausted all day and Jim had to fight the urge to coddle him; he knew Fred wouldn’t thank him for it in his current mood.

“ We can’t go,” Freddie said. “But you can.”

Well that just wasn’t happening.

“I can’t just leave you on your own!” Jim protested.

“Darling, the baby still won’t be due for another month by the time of the wedding- and I won’t be alone, Phoebe and Joe are here and Mary’s right down the road. I’ll be fine. ”

He wanted to believe him. This was the most certain he’d seen Freddie during the whole pregnancy. Jim had been worried sick about him; worried about his anxiety and nightmares, worried about how sick and tired he was, worried about how sore he was, but looking at him now you’d swear none of it had happened. His eyes sparked with their usual fire, there was that familiar, stubborn set to his jaw. He looked at Jim like he was silently daring him to disagree.

“I’ll think about it,” Jim sighed. Freddie reached out to cup his cheek, his thumb lightly tracing Jim’s cheekbone.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated, but now it was like the roles were reversed. ‘How can you be sure?’ a part of Jim wanted to ask, though he’d never be so cruel.

He kept quiet.

Within the week Freddie had gotten Phoebe and Joe to help argue that he’d be fine. Within the week they all three convinced Jim to go to the wedding.

November 16th, Carlow, Ireland

Being back home was so odd. He almost forgot how quiet Carlow was, especially compared to London. Compared to Dublin it was quiet, but compared to London it almost felt like a ghost town.

Inside his mother’s house was a different story.

There were so many family members crowded into the house it was ridiculous. Jim was sharing his old room with his younger brother and his brother’s ten-year-old son. Some cousins were stuck in sleeping bags in the living room. The only one with a room to herself was his mother, Colleen.

She’d been disappointed that he didn’t bring Freddie along and Jim knew why; she hadn’t made it to London once during the whole pregnancy, having to make due with phone calls. She was used to having her family near her for the most part. The second Jim entered the house she swore up and down that she’d make it to London by December, or at the very least that she’d be there after little Maeve was born. Luckily Jim brought a picture of the latest scan and she spent ages cooing over it and asking a million questions; how was Freddie doing? Did they have a name picked out? Was the baby’s room ready? Exactly how long to go now? It got to the point that his aunt, Patricia, had to laughingly tell Colleen to at least let Jim kick his shoes off before she started in on the inquisition.

There were only three days to go before Bridget’s wedding when Miami called.

Instantly, Jim knew something was wrong. Miami wouldn’t call him unless something was wrong. He wouldn’t call unless something was wrong with Freddie.

“What’s wrong?” he asked right away.

“He’s in labour,” Miami said and Jim had to sit down. It was too early, it was too early and he wasn’t even home. “The boys are with him.” That at least offered some comfort; he knew the band would sooner chop their own limbs off than let something happen to Freddie or the baby. Roger would tear the hospital down with his bare hands if he thought they weren’t doing a good enough job. “I’m arranging a flight for you now. Can you get to Dublin airport by eight?”

“Yes,” Jim said hoarsely and hung up. He turned to his mother, hovering worriedly in the doorway. His brother, Andrew, stood behind her. “I need to get to Dublin,” he said. “Freddie’s in labour.”

He had spent the whole drive to Dublin in a sea of anxiety and the flight to London was a blur to him. Miami arranged a car for him too and the drive to the hospital finally brought him back to himself. Not too long to go now and he’d see Freddie. Maybe he’d even given birth by now, it had been over ten hours by now. Maybe (hopefully) he’d get to the hospital to find Freddie sitting in bed with the baby in his arms.

But nothing was ever that simple, was it?

He found Brian, Roger and Deacy huddled in the hallway. They were sitting on those awful orange plastic chairs, arms linked; all of them were pale and had clearly been crying. Roger stared off into space like he wasn’t even sure where he was. Deacy looked utterly anguished. Brian kept glancing down the hall to a doorway (the doorway to Freddie’s room, he realised ) , biting his lip, face scrunched up like he was trying not to cry again.

The excitement and hope died a brutal death there and then; now he was terrified. Something was wrong, something was horribly wrong.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, skidding to a halt in front of them. “Where’s Freddie? How is he? How’s the baby?” Oh God, where was his husband? Where was his daughter? Why weren’t the boys with them? Why wasn’t Roger with them and why wouldn’t Roger look at him?

“We don’t know.” Brian’s voice broke and something in Jim broke with it. And Brian explained; something had gone wrong. Something had torn or Freddie had hemorrhaged, they weren’t sure, but the end result was the same; his husband had been left bleeding on a hospital bed, bleeding far too much. Roger had explained to Brian and Deacy and then broken down, leaving Brian to do the explaining now. They’d heard the baby crying but they didn’t know how she was. The doctors had taken her away but they hadn’t answered Brian’s frantic questions about her health. She’d been crying when they took her, but without any professionals to explain they didn’t know how she was either.

Jim couldn’t get enough air. Something had gone wrong, Freddie was hurt, Freddie might be dying, Maeve might be dying too for all he knew and he hadn’t even been there. He’d left Freddie alone and look what happened. He might lose his husband, he might lose his baby, he might lose the two people he loved most in one fell swoop.

He barely registered the pain in his knees as he fell to the ground. Someone was making a horrible keening sound, an almost animalistic cry and it took him a moment to register that it was him making that noise. He bit down on his fist but he couldn’t keep quiet; desperate fear overwhelmed him and he couldn’t think straight. He barely heard Brian and Deacy as they tried to calm him down.

It took both of them to get him back on his feet and then onto one of the chairs.

“It’ll be okay,” Brian said weakly, but Jim only shook his head and buried his face in his hands.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, please don’t take them. Please keep them safe. Look after my husband and daughter, please, oh please look after them. Please let me keep them.

Time was a blur then. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, but eventually a doctor approached them. For a moment, Jim braced himself- this is it, you have a funeral to plan, your husband is dead- but the doctor was smiling.

“He’ll be okay,” he said and that was the cue for Roger to burst into tears. Deacy let out a weak groan, hands over his mouth as he slid down the wall.

“Oh thank God,” Brian breathed. Words failed Jim. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even open his mouth. All he could do was stare as the doctor explained: Freddie had indeed hemorrhaged, but he was finally stable. Maeve had been okay from the off; they’d been concerned about her rapid breathing but they’d gotten her sorted quickly.

“You can see her now,” the doctor said. His eyes were on Jim but Jim gestured for the band to follow him.

“They can’t-”

“They’re Freddie’s brothers. They’re coming with me,” Jim said firmly. He used what many called The Alpha Voice, the tone that commanded respect. He used his height to its full advantage, standing at least three inches over the doctor.

The doctor wavered, looking at the four of them; pale, frightened and exhausted but all equally stubborn. He nodded and led them to the nursery.

The boys waited outside while the doctor led Jim to a cot at the back of the room. And there she was; a tiny baby girl, wrapped in a pink blanket. She was bawling her head off, absolutely screaming. She was darker than Jim but paler than Freddie with the pinkest cheeks; the smallest button nose and a thatch of fluffy black hair.

Jim fell in love on sight. He thought he’d loved her before but now that she was here, now that he actually got to hold her...There were no words. He’d never expected to have children. Before Freddie came along he wondered about it sometimes, an idle wonder really, mulling the idea over. Then when Freddie came along he’d gotten used to the idea that there would be no children. Then, miraculously, they made a baby.

Eight months later and here she was.

Tears fell down his cheeks and he made no effort to stop them, too engrossed in looking at Maeve, taking in her every feature.

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” he whispered. He turned to the hovering and doctor. “Is it okay to bring her to the boys?” he asked. The doctor nodded his consent and Jim brought her to meet her uncles.

“Boys,” he said with a proud grin. “This is Maeve. Maeve Primrose Hutton.”

“Oh, Jim, she’s beautiful, ” Deacy gasped.

She stopped crying then and opened her eyes. Jim’s heart skipped a beat; she had massive brown eyes just like Freddie’s. It brought a shiver of anxiety back, because he hadn’t seen Freddie yet and Freddie hadn’t seen Maeve yet. But it would be okay. Maeve was healthy and Freddie was stable at last; he’d bring Maeve to Freddie as soon as he could and then they’d all go home together. Joe would likely insist on cooking a massive celebratory dinner. Phoebe would probably cry again and fuss over Freddie like a mother hen. Honestly, Jim was all too prepared to do the same; after all this he didn’t want Freddie lifting a finger for a month.

Roger stared at Maeve and for a moment Jim couldn’t read the look on his face. But then Roger breathed out, smiling when Maeve opened her eyes.

“Hi, Maeve,” Brian said. He ran a careful finger down her cheek. “We’ve been worried about you.”

Freddie woke up the next day.

Jim brought Maeve to him only to find him awake in Roger’s arms; the drummer was bawling his eyes out while Freddie weakly asked after Maeve’s health.

“She’s fine,” Roger said, half laughing, half crying. “She’s perfect.”

“As beautiful as her Papa,” Jim said and Freddie and Roger turned to look at him. Freddie was still too pale and he looked exhausted, but the look on his face when he saw Maeve...It was angelic. Breathtakingly beautiful. “I thought she ought to say hello,” Jim continued. “Think she’s been missing you.” It was true; this was the calmest Maeve had been so far. She’d been crying when Jim took Jer and Bomi to meet her but as he approached Freddie’s room she’d slowly started to stop. Now she was perfectly silent, staring around her with wide eyes.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Roger said. Jim shot him a grateful smile as he left. Roger gave him a quick thumbs up as he headed to the door. It shut behind him just as Jim sat and handed Maeve to Freddie.

He’d half-expected Freddie to cry, but he didn’t. He sat there, grinning fit to burst, staring down at the baby.

“Hello, darling,” he said quietly. He held her close to his chest; Maeve yawned, her little hand clenching and unclenching as she pressed closer to his warmth. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” Jim agreed. Gently, he ran a hand through Freddie’s hair, pressing closer to him. He was loathe to leave him but he also knew Jer would lose it if he didn’t let her know her son was safe right away. He was torn; stay with Freddie or let the others know he was alright? He didn’t want to leave Freddie alone. But then the thought occurred to him- ‘Rog is outside, he can stay with them .’

“Shall I go get everyone?” he asked and Freddie nodded, still looking at Maeve.

He found Roger hovering anxiously in the hallway. “Can you sit with him? I just want to find the others, let them know he’s awake.”

Roger nodded and was already through the door before Jim could say anything else.

Typical really. It brought a fond smile to his face; Roger was going to be one hell of a godfather. Of course, they still had to ask him and Mary to be godparents but he didn’t doubt they’d be happy.

All that was left to worry about was Freddie’s recovery.

“I’m like a shooting star, I’ve come so far. I can’t go back to where I used to be. (A whole new world). Every turn a surprise. (With new horizons to pursue). Every moment red-letter. I’ll chase them anywhere, there’s time to spare. Let me share this whole new world with you.” -A Whole New World, Aladdin Soundtrack

“Another birth could kill you. I’m sorry, Mr Hutton.”

Freddie received the news with a blank stare. “Is that supposed to surprise me, darling?” he asked, ignoring the doctor’s (yet another one) shocked stare. He held Maeve close to his chest; she slept soundly. Jim knew his husband though; his eyes dimmed and he bit his lip. He may have looked okay, but there’d be an outburst soon enough, Jim was sure. Freddie may have expected it in light of what happened (Jim had expected it himself) but it was still gut-wrenching to hear.

The doctor, Dr Breen, looked at Freddie warily, but carried on. “We’d like to keep you in for another night or two, just to keep an eye on you. Your daughter is in perfect health and can go home tonight.”

At that, Freddie tensed. “What, I can’t keep her with me?”

“Well-”

“We’ll both stay,” Jim interrupted. “I’ll stay too, love, okay?” He had already spent the night on a mattress on the floor, he’d gladly so again. Anything to keep that frightened look from Freddie’s eyes. Anything to keep his husband and daughter in his sight. Forget Roger tearing the place down; if anything upset his husband when he was in recovery Jim would tear it down in a heartbeat. Freddie still wasn’t supposed to walk on his own, he was still clearly in pain and trying to hide it and Jim hated it. So no, Jim wasn’t about to leave him alone or leave him to worry himself sick about Maeve.

Breen didn’t look happy. But he looked at Jim who was close to snarling and nodded his consent.

They awoke to Maeve crying about four or five times that night. Really, time was a bit of a blur. Typical, stubborn Freddie, he tried to push himself up only to fall back with a wince and pained hiss.

“Jim, darling…”

Jim was already across the room and handed the crying infant to Freddie. “There we go, sweetheart, go to Papa.” Her cries became weaker, but she was still sobbing.

“What’s wrong, darling, hm? I already fed you.” And she wouldn’t drink further when they tried; she was clean and dry so that wasn’t the problem. Eventually it became evident that she just wanted attention.

“She gets that from you,” Jim informed his husband. Freddie slapped him on the arm, but he was smiling. Still pale, still exhausted with dark circles under his eyes, but somehow still glowing. And was there a more beautiful sight than seeing his own husband, his own Omega, holding their baby? No, he didn’t think so. This beat out everything that came before.

Eventually she quietened; snuffling a few times, Maeve eventually fell silent, only wailing again when Freddie went to hand her back to Jim, to put her back to bed.

“I think I’m stuck like this until she falls asleep,” Freddie’s laugh was weak but he was far from upset by the look of him. Jim lay next to him, an arm about his shoulders. “Then we’re both staying up,” he said. Freddie’s head rested on his shoulder and Jim reached down to engulf Maeve’s hand in his own. She peered up at him calmly, clearly not the least bit apologetic for the screaming.

“You’re gonna be a minx,” Jim yawned. “Calling it now.”

His predictions for their homecoming were correct; Joe was in the middle of cooking a bonafide banquet to celebrate. Phoebe took one look at Maeve cradled in Freddie’s arms and had to blink back tears.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Ignore me.”

Freddie, still a little wobbly, still a little pale, smiled tiredly. “Oh trust me, dear, I’ve been crying at every little thing.”

“You’re hormonal at least you have an excuse,” Joe grinned. Jim could smell cooking from the front hall; whatever the Beta was making it smelled delicious. There were savoury smells, sweet smells, spices...Knowing Joe there was enough food to last them for days.

Freddie sighed, shifting uneasily. “Well, first things first, darlings I’m having a bath and a lie down, I look awful.”

“You’re beautiful,” came the automatic response from Jim, Joe and Phoebe. Freddie blinked in surprise at them before laughing, shaking his head.

“You’re all impossible,” he said. “Jim, will you take her, love?”

He did and Phoebe helped Freddie upstairs.

“Everything’s alright then?” Joe asked, concern plain on his face. “Seriously, I mean?”

“It’s alright,” Jim assured him. He smiled down at the baby. “Perfect even.”

Freddie was out like a light by eight o’clock.

Jim finished calling his mother to once more assure her that everything was fine and yes, they would be delighted if she came to visit next week. Phoebe and Joe were watching TV, and Jim left them there to check on Freddie and Maeve.

The sight that greeted him when he entered their bedroom made him want to run for a camera.

Freddie was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his head; the other arm was wrapped around Maeve who was happily snoozing on his chest.

He couldn’t stop smiling; his heart just swelled and oh God, he loved them, he loved them both so much he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Still smiling, he lay down with them, pressed against Freddie’s side. His hand rested on Maeve’s back. As he reached for the bedside lamp, Freddie stirred.

“Darling?”

Jim stroked his hair back from his face, leaning down to press a light kiss against his lips. “Go back to sleep, honey,” he said gently. “You need to rest.”

Freddie blinked at him sleepily, only offering a quiet “Hm,” before closing his eyes again, pressing his face against Jim’s arm. He was asleep again in seconds and, thankfully, Maeve remained asleep as he snapped the light off.

“I love you,” Jim told them both.

With an arm around his husband and a hand resting on his daughter’s back, he fell asleep, soothed by the gentle sounds of their breathing.

They were safe and he’d do anything, absolutely anything to keep them safe.

He loved them. It was as simple as that.

“You’re here, there’s nothing I fear and I know that my heart will go on. We’ll stay forever this way. You are safe in my heart and my heart will go on and on.” -My Heart Will Go On, Celine Dion