Work Text:
Grant paces around the waiting room of the hospital, it had been nearly 9 hours since he and his husband had received the call that their surrogate, Angel, had gone into labor and been brought into the hospital. Marco had tried to drive them since Grant could barely manage to calm himself down enough to answer the phone call, but he couldn’t be persuaded to sit idly in the passenger seat as they rushed towards the moment where their son would be born. The anxiety was still written on his face, on every inch of his body, as he paces, hands trying to keep themselves busy with nothing to do. As he tries not to glance at the clock on the wall, only to see that the minutes have only been seconds, and there still hasn’t been any word.
Marco watches his husband from his seat against the wall, holding a fair amount of anxiety of his own in the pit of his stomach. He stands and walks to his husband, catching him by the shoulder and turning him towards himself. “Grant, calm down. You’re worrying a bald spot into the floor.”
Grant looks down as if to check for evidence of his path, before taking a dead breath and looking into his husband’s eyes. “What if something’s gone wrong? With Angel or the baby? What if they’re dying in there and we don’t know?”
Marco tries to exude a calmness that he doesn’t actually possess at the moment, “They’d come out and tell us, love. My mom was in labor for over 70 hours with me, and both of us were fine. Let’s try not to be overly worried until we’ve got a reason to be, okay?”
Grant presses his palms against his eyes, taking a deep inhale, before exhaling slowly, and giving a small nod, “Okay.”
Marco guides him to the chair next to the one he had been sitting in, before standing up straight and saying, “I’m going to get us some coffee, wait here,” he turns around before he adds over his shoulder, “and stop pacing.”
Grant presses his arms tightly against the armrests on either side of him, his knuckles turn white from his grip. The ten minutes between Marco leaving and coming back with the nastiest coffee Grant has ever had go by excruciatingly slow. Stuck in his own mind he thinks back to his childhood and his own father. The mistakes he made, and the amount of work he put in, that they had both put into fixing the broken mess that their relationship was after leaving Faerûn. He makes a silent promise to himself that he won't make the same mistakes. He won’t hurt his son in the same ways his own father hurt him, even if he hadn’t meant to. will do better. He refuses to think about the fact that he will probably make his own new mistakes.
When Marco returns and presses the hospital coffee into his hand, he lifts it to his lips and takes the smallest drink possible. The two of them sit quietly, side-by-side, waiting for an eternity to end until they can see their son. A hopefully healthy and happy baby boy. He tries not to think of his son as a chance at redemption for a family that had failed.
Two more hours pass before a nurse comes in to bring them to Angel and their new child. As they walk into the small hospital room, the two men walk to Angel’s bedside, a newborn held against her chest.
“How you feeling, Angel?” Marco asks, placing his hand on her shoulder.
“Like I just pushed a 7 pound 12 ounce, and 21 inch long baby out of my vagina.” Her tone is light but she sighs in pain when she tries to laugh, “You two owe me big.”
Marco laughs and Grant replies, “I will cook you whatever you want when we get out of here.”
“I’ll actually pass unless Marco’s cooking.” Both men laugh, Angel tries not to, her muscles still sore after the delivery. “Do you want to hold him?”
Grant nods, as Angel silently passes him the baby, who looks at him with what seems like wander in his eyes. “Hey little one, I’m your daddy.” Marco appears over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Grant’s waist, “And this is your papa. We’re so excited to meet you.”
The room is calm and full of soft smiles, of the relief of a happy, healthy baby boy finally being here after months of worry. Grant looks at the tiny body in his arms, silently promising to him that he would keep him safe, would make sure that this innocent little soul will never have to deal with the terror he has, or the mistakes his father made, he feels guilty at that thought but hold firm. He kisses the forehead of his new son, before looking at his husband and his friend, and feels so much love overwhelm him, he can’t do anything but hum his happiness.