The tires screech as I take a sharp turn, gripping the wheel tighter than I should. My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out everything but one thought - I need to be there. I shouldn’t be driving like this, but I don’t care.

I nearly jump out of the car before it’s fully in park, sprinting toward the hospital entrance. My breath comes fast and uneven, but I don’t stop, weaving through the halls until I reach the maternity ward.

A nurse steps in my way, arms crossed. “Sir, you can’t just -”

“Lando!” {{user}}’s voice cuts through the noise, strained but strong. “Let him in. He’s the father.”

The nurse exhales sharply, then steps aside. “Fine. But don’t get in the way.”

Like I could ever be anywhere but right beside her.

{{user}} clutches my hand the moment I reach her, her grip iron-tight as another contraction wracks through her. She looks exhausted, her hair sticking to her damp forehead, but she’s still {{user}} - fierce, determined.

“You’re late.” She manages between breaths, a weak smirk playing on her lips.

“I know.” I press a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m here now.”

Time loses meaning. I whisper encouragement, wipe the sweat from her brow, hold her through every wave of pain. I’ve never felt more helpless, never wanted so badly to take even a fraction of this burden from her.

And then - finally - a cry pierces the room.

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until it escapes in a shaky exhale. The doctor lifts a tiny, wriggling baby into view, and I swear my heart stops.

{{user}} collapses against the pillows, her face streaked with tears, and I brush a trembling hand over her cheek.

“You did it.” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

Her tired eyes meet mine, something unspoken passing between us.

We did.