Chapter Text
Ben scribbled his signature on one of the last papers of the day and then dragged the back of his arm across his forehead before sending the paper on a little sandstorm into a filing rack beside the door. He glanced at the clock. It wasn't really late yet - only four twenty-five, but today had been one of those lazy, nothing-to-do days where he'd been able to go slow, talk to people in his meetings a little more in-depth, and then get everything done systematically - in a neat and calm order. The entire day had had a golden-like aura of peace covering it.
Someone rapped the knuckles on the back of their hand softly against the doorframe and Ben looked up. His mouth twisted into a tiny smile when he saw Mal leaning against the door, one hand up beside her head with the palm facing out - that would be the one she'd knocked with - and the other curled around her belly like she was trying to support herself.
"Hey," He greeted her, and let his eyes skim over her. She had this look about her - like she was nervous and prepared and wanting something to lean on all at once. He pushed his chair back and then waited for a second, expecting her to step into the room, before he finally stood up. "You taking a break from work?" He asked.
"I've been working up in our room," Mal explained with a little breath. "Just been feeling uneasy all day." She rubbed her hand up a fraction as Ben circled his desk and went to stand in front of her, reaching out and putting a hand to the small of her back as he did. As she'd gotten more and more pregnant, she'd refused to allow herself to slouch or even to walk strangely. It was a bit odd to see her move so quickly and smoothly when he knew that, logically, she was twenty pounds heavier and the weight of the baby should make her want to fall onto her face. But she managed it well and the only consequence was that her back got tired from holding the new weight all the time. She didn't show it - a principle of Isle endurance - but he knew she hurt.
"My water broke," She confessed, putting her free hand on his forearm. "That's what I came down here to tell you. I'm, uh, about to go into labor."
Ben's skin grew icy. He exhaled slowly. "Okay," he agreed. "Do you still want to stay here, or do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
"I want to stay here," Mal's voice was firm even if her hand shook a little from nervousness.
Ben forced himself to nod again. 'This is her endeavor. However she wants to go through with it, you support her,' he told himself. "Do you want anyone there?" He asked.
Mal's hand tightened on his arm a little. He took her hand from her belly and squeezed it. "I'll be there," he promised. "But… anyone else? Sophia? My mom? I could call someone, too."
"No," Mal declined. "Just you." She took another little breath. "Can you clock out and shut down now? It'll still be a little while, but I want you to be around."
"Of course," Ben agreed. His chest felt unnaturally tight - Mal still hadn't come around to the idea of doctors, and he didn't dare suggest for one after the last time she'd snapped at him. He sort of understood. She didn't want to be exposed to anyone besides him. She didn't want anyone giving her instructions. There had been bad things on the Isle - mistakes from people trying to help - and she didn't trust anyone who would do anything to her body. But still, it was hard to let go of everything he'd been told growing up as a sheltered kid in Auradon. 'When a woman goes into labor, you take her to the hospital.'
Ben shut down his computer, put all his work away, and then shut and locked the door before putting his arm around Mal and walking with her down the hall. For a woman who was probably experiencing some sort of intense contractions, she didn't lean on him very much. Just took deep breaths and let her arm settle around his waist as she walked.
"Our room still?" He asked. Mal nodded. "You realize you could have called me and I would have come up. You didn't need to walk all the way down only to go all the way back."
"Walking helps," Mal explained with a tiny shrug of her shoulders. "I tried sitting down for a few seconds and didn't like it."
Ben sighed. Mal's arm tightened around his waist a little. He rubbed his thumb up and down her spine until she loosened it with a tiny breath. "I could get you something?" He offered. "An Advil, at the very least."
"I get high on those," Mal huffed. "I don't have any drug resistance, remember?"
He did remember. But he had been hopeful she'd cave just a little, at least to calm his nerves.
He opened the door to their room for her. Mal walked in but waited while he shut the door before he retook the space by her side again. "Wait," She stopped him, holding a hand up as she reached behind him. He turned and watched her nimble fingers click the lock into place. "I don't want any of the servants or Sophia sneaking in," she explained.
Ben sighed and nodded a little before looping an arm around her shoulders. "It'll be a while still, right?" He asked.
Mal nodded. "The pain is lasting longer now, but it's still too far in between."
Ben found her hand and squeezed it. "Where do you want to be?' He asked. Mal shrugged and then walked out from under his grip. He followed her into their room without a word.
They ended up curled up together, watching videos on his phone as the sky outside grew darker. Mal would occasionally take a deeper breath or give his hand a little squeeze if he happened to be holding it, but that was his only indication of whatever she might be going through. She was responsive enough - stealing his hand once to kiss his fingertips, humming along softly when a song came on that she liked, laughing quietly when jokes were told - but he still worried when that stubborn look came into her eyes and she curled her toes up a little through her socks(his socks, actually. She'd stolen them) and he'd call her name and she wouldn't turn.
His hands varied position - sometimes on her shoulders when she stretched her head uncomfortably, sometimes clutched in her hand, and sometimes tracing little patterns on her back as they stayed silent, listening to other people talk and just waiting. He kept his head close to hers, kissing her cheek or her hair but mostly staying silent in case she happened to whisper anything. The only time he left her side between five and eight was to escape to the bathroom to get her and him a glass of water. She sipped hers, closing her eyes, keeping her hand on her stomach until he put his beside her and then she was back and it was as if nothing was going on at all.
"Closer?" he asked Mal after the first movie, watching her stretch out her legs out and shift her spine a little.
"Closer," She affirmed. "But still time. Not much; just some."
She moved around a lot. He hadn't realized a woman in labor would do that, but he had to almost consistently switch the angle he was holding his phone at as she rolled towards him, then away from him, then sat up, then laid back down with an exasperated sigh to set one of her legs across his. It didn't bother him. He wasn't watching the movie anyway - it was on to distract Mal. He himself was letting his gaze shift from the ailing fairy to the sky outside, so he could gauge how much time had passed.
Halfway through what he assumed was Moana, though he hadn't really been watching, and with the sun starting to set outside, Mal set her hand across his phone screen and led him to set it down on the bed. "I want to move to the bathroom," she announced. "For easier cleanup."
Ben's heart thudded against his chest. "Now?" He asked, taking a little breath to steady himself.
"Soon," Mal nodded, squeezed his hand a little, and then swung her legs off their bed. Ben shut down his phone and came around to help her. She still moved remarkably well, but Ben could see how all the muscles in her leg were tense and she was moving a little slower than she had been before. "I'm okay," she assured him. It didn't sound like a lie when she said it in that tone of voice, but Ben was sure she had to have some bit of sarcasm behind it.
He set a filled glass of water down beside the bathtub and took four large, fluffy towels folded in fourths to line up along the inside of the tub. She got undressed herself and then he helped her sit down. She was closing her eyes now, still taking deep breaths, but her hold on his hand was steady. He'd heard horror stories of broken hands and crushed fingers - even his dad had been teasing him about how many profanities Belle had screamed at his birth - but it didn't honestly surprise him that Mal wasn't one of those girls. Aside from her palm being a little warmer, there was no difference from the way she would have held his hand on any other day.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, though he felt a bit dumb about asking such an irrelevant, obvious question.
"I am," Mal affirmed, voice soft and steady. That made him uneasy - wasn't she supposed to be yelling at him and madder than a hornet?
"What kind of pain are you in?" He asked, squeezing her hand to see if she'd squeeze back.
"My hips feel like they're being pushed out at a little," Mal explained slowly. "My lower back has lots of pressure on it. And my stomach… it almost feels like I've done too many sit-ups and now I can't relax it."
Ben couldn't stop a small chuckle from escaping himself at her careful description. A ghost of a smile breezed past Mal's lips too. "The contractions are overlapping," She whispered. "But I don't think I need to push yet."
"How will you know?" He asked.
Mal shrugged. "I'm hoping I'll just know," She replied. "All the other girls on the Isle kind of knew when."
They were basing this off of instinct, then. Just him and her. Him with no experience ever having helped someone before and her with whatever demented experiences she'd had on that blasted Isle of the Lost.
Ben kissed her forehead. "Do you need anything?" He asked.
Mal hesitated, thinking. Then she shook her head and leaned her head back. Every single muscle in her body was tense except for her face, which he assumed she was keeping still to calm his nerves and maybe also to prevent headaches. "Talk," She demanded, closing her eyes.
Talk? About what? His mind was blank - he didn't have anything to say. The side of Mal's face twisted in pain for a split second and then relaxed again, and then words tumbled out of his mouth. "It scares me - what you went through over there."
Mal opened one eye. "I didn't do this over there," she told him. "I watched others do it, but not me."
"I'm not just talking about this," Ben spat. "I mean, yeah, childbirth and watching people die and that one girl you've told me about… that's scary. But I'm talking about the all, Mal. The small and the big."
"It's over," she reminded him. "This is my life now."
"I know that but every once in a while you do something like this and I realize that part of you is still living as if you'd never left," He reached down to touch her stomach. As she'd described, it was rock hard - like she was tensing all of her muscles at the same time. A chill ran over her skin and she gasped a little but schooled her expressions quickly.
"Like this?" She questioned him once the pain had paused.
"Like when you wake up beside me and you blink and you're so confused as to who I am because some part of you thinks you should be waking up in the dark on that Isle," Ben began. It surprises him how quickly it all comes out now that he's started. "Or when we're walking past a buffet table and you're hungry but can't stop so you hide things up your sleeves and in your bag - you've put crackers in your hair before, Mal. And then this…" He trailed off, watching sweat drip down her forehead. "I could call someone. Someone to help you."
"You're here," Mal shook her head. "And I know what I'm doing." She scrunched her forehead up then and then braced her legs against the tub for a few seconds. He squeezed her hand tightly, leaned forward to press his mouth to her cheek in a long, desperately worried kiss, And she smiled sideways at him like she found his worrying to be somewhat sweet.
Part of him thought she was absolutely insane, doing this at home in their bathtub without any medicine or a doctor or even a scream. The rest of him was blown away.
She didn't cry. Didn't even whimper. Occasionally her face betrayed her, but the majority of the process was just slow breathing and him rambling softly about her and their baby and everything under the sun until he suddenly had nothing to say and his mouth went dry. There was a part where she had to stop pushing and when he asked why, it's because she could feel the baby crowning. And that thought just turned his stomach because he couldn't physically get a handle on how she was just doing this all by herself. She released his hand. "I need something sharp," she told him. "Some scissors or something. And if you could get some clean thread, that would be useful too."
When he turned back around Mal was leaning forward and removing something from in between her legs. He couldn't hear anything for a few seconds because his ears were ringing, but then he focused and he could hear crying as Mal wiped her forehead off with the back of her arm and looked up at him with a tiny, reassuring smile. "I need those," She nodded at his findings - some scissors which were usually used to cut hair and two thick strings that had been tying a box closed. He collapsed beside the tub and handed them to her numbly. His hands didn't have any feeling in them and his knees felt like jelly as he watched Mal cut her baby loose from herself and then hand the newborn to him.
"Can you clean him off?' She asked. "There's still an afterbirth that I have to take care of. You'll probably not want to see it - it can be a bit nasty."
He took her word for it and turned around. He took her son - his son - their son - to the sink and made sure the water was warm before rinsing the child off.
How was he supposed to do this? He knew from Madison to not let their head drop too far back and don't twist their little arms and - god, he was so little! He fit in Ben's hands and he was taking tiny little breaths as he squealed(Ben didn't quite blame him for crying - he felt a bit like breaking down too and it's not like he was the one who just came out of-) and all Ben could think about is 'WhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhatWhat.'
Still, he managed it and then wrapped the little one up in a towel to examine him in something like shock. The baby started to calm down as he warmed up, but he fussed still as Ben looked down at him. His head was conical - that's probably normal. His eyes were puffy and swollen. Tiny fists curled up beside his cheeks and he had Mal's nose and everything was just 'WhatWhatWhatWhatWhat.'
The 'what's' got slower as he started to take it all in. This was his son. What? It was their baby. What? His and Mal's little one. What? This was the crown prince. What? The heir to the kingdom. Wha-how?
He still had no clue.
He didn't realize Mal was all done and cleaned up until she leaned against his arm and nearly scared him into satellite orbit. She rested her head against his and then the ringing stopped. He looked back down at his son in his hands and then up into the mirror to examine his brand new family. Mal had stolen one of his bathrobes - they hung on the backside of the door and they were too big for her, but she tied it up snug around her hips and it was like a very large and furry dress. He glanced over his shoulder. Everything was clean. She must have taken the towels and dumped them into the laundry while he was in a daze. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to tune out,"
"That's fine," She assured him, waving a hand a little. "It's overwhelming."
He nodded with a long, slow breath. Mal sat back up and held her hands out for her little one. "Can I have him now?" She whispered. "I need to do some skin-to-skin with him so my body will start recovering."
Ben took her word for it that that was a thing and immediately turned to place the baby in her arms. She pulled down the collar of the robe and leaned her baby's weight against her collarbone before turning and walking back into the bedroom with him. Ben assumed it was so she could lay down or sit on their bed. He followed her, barely remembering to turn off the light as he left.
It was dark outside. Mal laid down on her side with the baby leaning up against her chest, his head pressed onto her chest, just far enough down so that she couldn't rest her chin on him. Ben went and laid down at her side. His phone was still on the bed where it had been abandoned. He put his head on her shoulder and then rested a hand on his son's back so he could feel the baby breath.
"Are you okay?" The question felt more justified now.
Mal shifted her weight. "Yeah," she agreed. "I think I tore a little, so I'll be sore for a day or two, but having him here helps." She ran a hand through his fuzzy hair with a little smile. "His head will look more normal in a day or two. And he'll open his eyes up later too."
"He's perfect," Ben breathed, letting his eyes trace the little person's frame. He had calmed down almost immediately after returning to Mal's arms. It appeared skin-to-skin was good for baby too, and not just mom. Now he was curling up into her frame, little rear end sticking into the air a little and breathing against Mal's skin with a little pouty lip. The baby had her natural pout. Oh dear, was Ben screwed.
"You can hold him again in a moment," Mal offered. "I think I'm supposed to hold onto him for the first half-hour or onwards, but you can hold him afterward."
"I'm okay to just watch," Ben exhaled. "And what are you doing?"
Mal shrugged. "It's just skin-to-skin contact. For baby and I. Evie explained it once to me on the Isle - it helps them adapt to breathing and eating outside of me and then it signals my body that I'm not pregnant anymore and that I need to start taking care of them."
"That sounds like a lie," Ben shook his head. "It sounds like you're lying to me just so you have a good excuse to hold him."
Mal laughed and kissed his cheek. Then she looked back down at their baby and ran a soft hand down his back. "We need to name him," She whispered.
"Not yet," Ben protested. "Mal, my brain is fried and I don't know how you're processing anything. We can't pick a name like this."
"I like Zach," Mal informed him, ignoring everything he'd just said.
"Apparently we can," Ben sighed, leaning his head back into the pillows. "Zach's not a bad name."
"Do you have any good middle names?" Mal asked.
Ben shrugged. "I don't suppose we could call him Zach Hades or Zach Adam, huh?"
"I don't want him to have anyone else's name," Mal wrinkled her nose. "He's his own person."
"That throws out Ben as well, then," Ben nodded. That didn't bother him too much, to be honest. Zach Ben didn't have the best flow. "We had a list. There was Charlie and Booker and Zane and Marshall-"
"I like Marshall," Mal cut him off. "Zach Marshall. Is that kingly enough for you?"
Ben's mouth felt a little dry. "Yeah," He agreed, voice cracking a little. "Yeah, I guess," He exhaled and watched Mal look down at their little baby. She scooted down to put her head against his chest and rolled toward him a little so that tiny Zach was nestled between them but still touching Mal's skin. He put his arms around her and watched her blink once, twice, before closing her eyes and falling asleep. He chuckled.
This was his family. That was his son and that was his wife. This was something he'd built. Built it with Mal and then welcomed Zach. Ben exhaled and then he, too, leaning into the covers and closed his eyes. No matter what happened or where he went, he was always going to remember this. This first perfect night with his two favorite people and the quiet being welcomed in with the peace. The first night of his next new adventure.