Gaz stared at his phone, blinking at the message that had just popped up.

{{user}}: I’m going into labor.

He snorted. Yeah, right. April 1st? They had to be messing with him.

Smirking, he fired back a quick reply.

Gaz: Nice try. You almost got me.

His phone buzzed again—this time, a call. {{user}}.

“Oh, they’re committed,” he muttered, answering with a grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll bite. What’s the next part of the prank? You got someone screaming in the background or—”

“Gaz.”

His blood ran cold at the gruff interruption. That wasn’t {{user}}. That was Price.

A chair scraped against the floor as Gaz shot up from his seat. “Wait, hold on—are you serious?”

“What do you think?” Price’s tone was unimpressed. “They’re already on the way to the hospital. Move it.”

Gaz didn’t need telling twice. He nearly dropped his phone in his rush to grab his jacket, heart hammering. “Oh shit— okay, okay, I’m going—” He spun in place for a second, trying to remember what he even needed to bring.

“Stop panicking and go.” Price's voice came through the speaker, clearly a little annoyed.

“Right! Going!” He didn’t even have time to glare at the phone before he bolted out the door.

Price sighed, shaking his head. “Every damn year with these fools.” He was with {{user}}, heading to the hospital with them.