Work Text:
7:00 PM
Samira stepped into the unusually tranquil ER at PMTC, her senses heightened despite the calm of the beginning of the night shift.
In the locker room, after removing her hoodie and stuffing it in her locker, she grimaced as an unexpected wave of pain coursed through her lower abdomen.
Ellis, who had changed into her scrubs and was clipping her dreadlocks out of her face with a silver claw clip, frowned seeing Samira brace against the locker. "You good?" Ellis asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
“Just period cramps,” Samira replied, her voice strained. “They've been kicking my ass all day.”
“I have some Tylenol,” Ellis offered.
“I've taken some already, but thanks anyway,” Samira smiled as she slung her stethoscope around her neck. The pain passed and she took a deep breath, prepared for the shift ahead.
9:00 PM
As the hours ticked by, the discomfort in Samira's abdomen intensified, much to her annoyance. The ER was relatively calm that evening, but wincing while stitching up a laceration on a patient was hardly the confidence booster she or the patient, a teenage girl already scared of telling her mom she scratched the car, needed.
After finishing up her notes, slowed her pace, and Shen, leaning against a nearby counter, made a light-hearted jab about her meticulousness.
Despite the ache, she had to admit it was funny. Still, she leaned against one of the workstations and took a deep breath, trying to ease the growing tension in her lower back.
Abbot, ever observant, noticed her struggle as he guided Whitikar through a tricky procedure. Samira had been uncomfortable since the afternoon at home. She shook it off, usually able to handle it but this seemed different.
After disposing of his of his gloves, he approached Samira at one of the stations as she shifted in her chair. She offered him a small smile.
“Patient in six has been referred to neuro, just to make sure there's not internal damage. CT isn't too backed up so maybe her Mom won't be too mad.” Samira told him and he nodded, pleased.
“Good. Are you still in pain?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with concern. “Your period?”
“I can still work,” Samira insisted, attempting to appear composed, although the gnawing cramp challenged her resolve.
Jack nodded slowly, “Okay, but tap put if you need to. Really, Mohan. Do you need anything for it?”
“A new uterus?” Samira quipped back, prompting a quiet laugh from Abbot, who managed a faint smile despite his concern.
“I can't help with that but take a break,” Abbot replied gently. He hated seeing her in pain, especially since she hadn't had a good night’s sleep because of the cramps.
Thankful for his kindness, Samira squeezed one of his biceps, a gesture of appreciation. She would kiss him in a heartbeat for his support, but their workplace rules were clear: no public displays of affection.
“Go save lives.” Samira ordered gently, and he smirked, nodding.
11:30 PM
Ellis glanced around, the stillness of the ER now replaced with a hushed urgency.
“Ellis? Where's Mohan? Her headcase patient can be discharged,” Langdon called out, breaking the quiet.
Ellis scanned the ER. She couldn't see Samira anywhere, “I think she’s in the bathroom. I’ll let her know,” she replied, and Langdon nodded, satisfied.
To her surprise, Ellis found Samira on the floor of the staff ladies’ room next to the sink, her hands pressed hard against the cool metal countertop, brows furrowed in pain.
“Hey, hey. What's going on?” Ellis knelt beside her, a rush of concern flooding her voice.
“I don’t know, it just started getting worse and—” Samira interrupted herself with a sharp inhale, “My blood pressure is definitely rising.”
“Is this a miscarriage?” Ellis asked, her tone shifting to one of urgent concern.
Samira shook her head firmly. “I’m not pregnant.”
“We need to get you examined,” Ellis insisted, her authoritative tone leaving no room for argument, one she typically reserved for intoxicated patients.
With a reluctant nod, Samira braced herself against the wall, trying to steady herself. Nausea surged through her as the pain escalated, and she couldn't suppress a loud yelp. “Can’t move,” she gasped, her voice laced with distress.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Ellis replied, carefully cradling Samira’s waist and guiding her out of the restroom.
As they shuffled past, Shen, who was casually strolling by, dropped his coffee onto a nearby cart. “Mohan, Ellis, you good?” he asked, worry etched into his features as he held the door open to the examination room for them. “What’s happening?”
“Really bad period pain,” Ellis stated, her mind racing as she hoped it would turn out to be something benign, like appendicitis.
Once inside the exam room, Ellis assisted Samira onto the bed, her instincts kicking into gear as she sensed the gravity of the situation. “Don’t get Abbot,” Samira whispered, and Ellis nodded.
Samira exhaled heavily as another wave of pain peaked, the discomfort forcing her to grip the railing of the hospital bed tightly.
“What's happening?” Shen asked.
“Cramps my stomach since last night, the pain has intensified.” Samira explained through clenched teeth, “The pain has spread to my hips and lower back,” she let out a sob and buried her face in the pillow.
She had never felt pain like this before. Her appendix was out, so she had excluded that. But it appeared her body had missed the feeling and thought to torture her with it again.
“Shen, page gynecology and be discreet,” Ellis instructed, and he nodded, casting a sympathetic look at Samira as he hurried out of the room.
“Can I examine you?” Ellis asked gently. She put on some gloves, “Internally?”
Samira nodded, and Ellis helped her in removing her scrub pants and underwear. Samira focused on trying to breath, inhaling through her nose and letting out a shuddering breath, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the bed railing.
“Holy shit,” Ellis exclaimed as she examined Samira, her eyes widening. Hardly anything fazed Ellis, “Uh, when exactly was your last period?”
Trying to focus amidst the pain, Samira shut her eyes tight. Her periods were often irregular, making it difficult to recall the exact date, but a fresh wave of cramps rippled through her, forcing her to bite her lip to stifle cries.
“Breathe, breathe,” Ellis urged, demonstrating deep inhales and exhales for Samira to mimic.
“What's happening to me?” Samira whispered.
Abbot paced the ER, noting the unusual calmness yet feeling a growing unease about the absence of several staff members. He turned to Jesse.
“Is it just me, or am I missing a couple doctors?” he inquired, concern knitting his brow.
“I think there’s a birth happening. Hill just came down,” Jesse replied, having caught a glimpse of the OB on call in the elevator after admitting a patient, “Exam room 16,”
Abbot pushed open the door to exam room 16, heart racing with a mix of concern and curiosity. The sight that met his eyes was far from what he anticipated.
Samira lay on the bed, drenched in sweat, her face pale but determined as Shen checked her vitals with practiced urgency. Dr. Hill was focused intently, lifting the sterile sheet and blanket to examine her lower half. Ellis was holding Samira's hand, telling her to breathe.
“What’s going on?” Abbot demanded, his voice a sharp edge in the tense atmosphere.
“Abbot, I need you to leave,” Ellis said sternly, her gaze fixed on him with a warning. But he disregarded her instruction, unable to tear his eyes away from Samira.
Jack slipped to Samira's side, gently pushing the damp strands of hair away from her forehead. “Hey, talk to me,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” Samira replied, her voice barely a whisper as she clutched his hands, her grip betraying her fear.
“She’s in labour, Dr. Abbot,” Hill announced, the gravity of her words hanging in the air like a lead weight.
“What?” both doctors exclaimed, their heads snapping towards her in disbelief.
“I am not pregnant!” Samira protested vehemently. Another wave of pain surged through her body, her back and pelvis screaming with pressure. Like she needed to push something out.
She couldn't possibly be pregnant; she would’ve known. The multitude of conditions that could explain her current state rushed through her mind, but none felt like the answer.
“Well, all the signs show, and I saw the head right now,” Ellis explained, urgency tinging her voice.
“Looking at the head right now - this baby is coming now.” Hill said, calm as ever.
“Head? - Oh!” Samira gasped, cutting off her own protest as a new wave of sensation washed over her, something primal igniting within. An image flashed in her mind of the movie Alien, fear gripping her as she wondered if something was about to burst from her stomach.
Swallowing hard, Jack leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m here. I’m right here,” he reassured her. This was a lot to process, his heart was racing but Samira needed him right now.
“I’m scared,” Samira whimpered. Just then, her body betrayed her again, the overwhelming urge to push washing over her.
“Okay, I need you to push, Mohan,” Hill ordered, her tone firm.
“I'm not pushing,” Samira protested, shaking her head.
Jack leaned down, cupping her cheeks in his hands and she stopped her thrashing, focusing on eyes.
“Samira, you need to push.” He told her firmly.
“Don't leave.” She whispered
“I'm not going anywhere.” Jack promised, “You need to push. Now.”
Those were words Samira had never anticipated hearing, yet instinct took over, and she complied.
Samira had read a little about cryptic pregnancies. They were horrifying nightmares to most women: the thought of giving birth without even realizing you were expecting.
The OB had explained that the ultrasound revealed a retroverted uterus which could account for the lack of bodily awareness of the pregnancy, alongside an anterior placenta that muffled any kicking sensations.
Later, as she recovered in the OB ward with an IV drip in her arm, Samira was relieved they provided her with a private room. She hadn’t felt ready to mingle with ecstatic parents celebrating pregnancies they had planned.
She had never given much thought to babies—respected them, yes—but they weren't a part of her world. Not yet anyway. She and Jack only moved in together a month ago, and the topic of children had never crossed their minds.
Now, in a tiny cot next to her, a little boy
When Abbot entered her room, shutting the door softly behind him, Samira turned her heavy-lidded eyes to him. “Hey,” she murmured, her voice a mere whisper, laden with exhaustion.
“Hey,” he responded, his gaze instinctively darting to the bassinet where a tiny figure stirred, letting out a soft whine.
“How are you feeling?” Abbot asked, concern etched on his features.
“Physically? Sore. I totally get why Heather didn’t recommend this process.” Samira attempted a joke, though her heart felt heavy. “Everything else? I don’t fucking know.”
Jack nodded, remaining quietly supportive, his presence grounding her as she continued to process. That was one of the things Samira appreciated most about him, the way he offered space, no judgment, just patience.
“He's healthy. Results came in normal.”
“So normal whilst being an abnormal pregnancy.” Samira mused to herself. She had always been an overachiever. Her mother was going to have a field day.
“I mean, it’s- he not bad," she continued, glancing at Jack. “But also, I had no idea, and I had no choice in this. I mean, what the fuck?” Her voice trembled with disbelief.
“Well, I always say that you’re a rare person,” Jack quipped dryly, a faint smirk curling on his lips, which earned him a soft smile from her.
Samira let out a deep sigh. “How are you?”
“I’m just glad you’re not dying,” he responded, running a hand over his face, anxiety creeping back in. “I mean, fuck, ‘Mira? I’m just as shocked as you are.”
“But it’s not awful, is it?” she asked, searching his eyes.
Jack's expression relaxed and he shook his head silently, “No, no not terrible.” He said.
“Well, the other option was my death,” Samira added, a small smile breaking through the tension. “I have no idea what we’re doing.”
Their baby let out a yawn and a whimper, prompting Jack to move and pick him up from the bassinet. He was small yet healthy, possessing a tuft of dark hair atop his head.
“I think he looks like you,” Samira remarked, her heart swelling with warmth. She had noticed immediately how he seemed to carry both their features—the olive-brown skin and hair were hers, but that little face was undeniably Jack’s.
As she watched him cradle their baby in his arms, awe washed over her, and she felt an indescribable warmth fill the room.
“He’s beautiful,” Jack murmured, his voice soft and reverent. He swayed gently, as the baby settled into a sleep again, “Have you held him yet?”
“No.” Samira whispered, suddenly feeling ashamed, “What if I hurt him? I mean, I didn’t even know I was pregnant!”
“You know what was wrong. You won’t hurt him.” Jack assured, “Do you want to hurt him?”
“Don't be an asshole.”
He gently transferred the baby into her arms. Startled, Samira felt a pang of anxiety as the little one let out a few soft noises. She feared she might make him cry, but instead, he blinked up at her, and in that moment, she thought he recognized her.
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you,” Samira whispered, her heart racing as he curled his tiny fingers around her pinky. He was so small, and yet so perfect. Holding him close to her chest, she felt Jack press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
“We need stuff,” Jack suddenly noted, realization dawning that they were now parents. He was making a mental list in his head - diapers, bottles, a crib. The spare bedroom in their apartment would need to be converted.
“A lot of stuff,” Samira agreed, her eyes still glued to their son as she instinctively rocked him gently. She recalled watching Heather do this and some of the nurses too. “Do you have diapers in your go-bag?” she joked, teasing a smile.
Jack snorted, an easing of the tension in his posture. “Not yet,” he admitted, moving to plan their next steps, his eyes reflecting his own mixture of awe and responsibility.
Robby usually wasn’t surprised when he received a call from Jack in the middle of the night; their work often blurred the lines of normal hours. But tonight felt different.
“A baby? You know the protocol. DCFS—” Robby began, tired. His own baby was keeping him and Heather awake and they only just put her down.
“No, it’s not about just any baby. Samira had a baby.” Jack interrupted, his voice urgent.
Robby sat up in bed, his heart racing. A smile crept onto his face as he processed the news. “Jack, you nearly got me there. I can’t lie,” he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Did Shen put you up to this?”
Before Jack could respond, Heather stepped into the room, shock all over her face. She held her phone high to Robby. On the screen was an image of a small baby nestled in a hospital cot, swaddled in a soft, pastel blanket.
“Babe, Samira had a baby,” Heather exclaimed. Robby felt his jaw drop.
“What the fuck?”
Jack chuckled over the phone, “My sentiments exactly, brother.”