Finn's POV

___Nine Months Later___

Hospitals have always made my skin crawl. The stark, sterile smell, those too-bright fluorescent lights that feel like they're searing into your soul, and the relentless beeping of machines—it all grates on me. But today? Today, it's like all of that has been cranked up to an unbearable level. Lily's in labor, and I've turned into this pacing, anxious wreck. My nerves are so frayed I've lost count of how many times I've run my hands through my hair or muttered barely coherent prayers under my breath.

We're not alone in the waiting room. Kam, Shawn, Kai, Jennie, Lily's mom, her sister, and my dad with his girlfriend, Joanna, are all scattered around, trying to act normal. They throw me small, reassuring smiles, but I can see it—the worry behind their eyes. Kam shoots me these sympathetic looks every time I pass by her, like she knows I'm hanging on by a thread, but even she looks rattled.

Though, considering she's three months pregnant herself and pacing almost as much as I am, she's probably more rattled than she lets on.

"Hey man," Shawn's voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts, pulling me back into the room. "If you keep pacing like that, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor, and the hospital's gonna charge you extra."

Kam snorts, rolling her eyes. "Shawn, you're calming someone down? Should I be concerned? You're normally the one having a meltdown when I walk around like a human being."

He shrugs. "Hey, I figure someone should be less of a mess, and today it's Finn's turn to lose it. I'm just here for moral support."

Kai joins in, leaning back in his chair with an amused grin. "Honestly, Finn, you've got the pacing down to an art form. You should teach a class or something—'Anxiety 101: How to Pace Your Worries Away.'"

Jennie nudges Kai in the ribs, her scolding glare almost comical. "Stop teasing him, Kai. He's already nervous enough. We all know how much he's been through."

"Ow, okay, okay!" Kai chuckles, rubbing his side. "I'm just saying, if anyone needed a masterclass in freaking out, it's this guy."

Kam is laughing now, the sound light but somehow comforting, and even Lily's mom and my dad chuckle softly from their corner of the room. It's almost enough to distract me from the bone-deep terror gripping my chest. Almost.

Another scream from the delivery room freezes me in place, and suddenly, the light-hearted banter dies off. Every time Lily cries out, it's like a knife twisting in my gut. The tension in the room thickens, and all the jokes and smiles fade into anxious silence.

And then—that scream.

"FINNLEY BARTHOLOMEW BROOKES?!"

I'm already moving before the echo of her voice fades, pushing open the door to the delivery room without a second thought.

Lily's POV

His full name echoes through the halls like a death sentence, but in this moment, I don't even care. The second the scream leaves my lips, I want to reel it back, but the pain rips through me, leaving no room for pride. I've never felt anything like this before. It's like my body has become a war zone, each contraction an explosion, and I'm the one caught in the crossfire.

"FUCK SAKES, FINN I'M GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T APPEAR IN 0.5 SECONDS"

I hear his feet before I see him, the frantic patter of shoes against the hospital tile. He rushes in, looking like a mess, hair dishevelled, shirt rumpled—he's not fooling anyone. I know he's been pacing outside like a madman. His eyes, wide and panicked, search mine as if they're expecting the worst.

"I'm here, butterfly. I'm here." His voice is softer now, and I latch onto that sound like it's my lifeline. His hands—those hands that have held me through my darkest moments—are on me in an instant, one clutching mine, the other smoothing back the damp hair sticking to my forehead.

"You're okay. You're okay," he repeats, though I can hear the quiver in his voice, like he's trying to convince himself just as much as me.

"It hurts," I manage to choke out between breaths, my voice shaky. "I can't—" The words get stuck in my throat because what if I can't do this? What if something goes wrong? What if we lose another?

The fear that has shadowed this entire pregnancy claws at my chest. I've tried to stay strong, tried to shove it down and pretend that I'm not terrified, but it's there—always there. Finn sees it too, and I see the mirror of my own fear etched across his face. His grip tightens on my hand, and for a moment, neither of us breathes.

"You've got this, Lil. We've got this," he says, but his words don't do much to calm the storm brewing inside me.

Another contraction hits like a tidal wave, and I can't help it—I cry out. I feel Finn flinch beside me, and it nearly breaks me. I know he feels helpless. I know he wants to take the pain from me, but there's nothing he can do but hold on as I ride it out.

Finn leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, his lips warm and steady against my skin, a brief moment of calm in the storm that's raging through me.

"You're doing amazing. Just breathe, okay? We're almost there."

I nod, even though my body is screaming at me to give up, to let the pain swallow me whole. But his words—his voice—anchor me. I focus on that, on the way his thumb keeps tracing those circles on my hand, steady, constant.

Another contraction hits, and this time, it's different. The intensity builds, and then I hear the doctor's voice cutting through the haze.

"One more push, Lily. You're so close. I can see the head."

A surge of adrenaline floods my veins, and I grip Finn's hand tighter, my knuckles turning white. I can feel him tense beside me, but he doesn't let go. He stays, whispering words of encouragement, his breath hot against my ear.

"One more, Lils. You can do this," he whispers, kissing the top of my head again, his lips lingering just a second longer this time.

With one final push, the world seems to stand still. And then... the sound. The most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

A baby's cry.

Tears spring to my eyes as the doctor lifts our baby, its tiny body slick and wriggling, into the air. Finn lets out a strangled laugh, his voice thick with emotion, and I feel a sob tear from my chest.

"It's a girl," the doctor announces, smiling down at us as they place her on my chest.

I'm shaking, my entire body trembling with exhaustion, but nothing in the world matters except for the tiny, perfect life in my arms. I stare down at her—our little girl—her face red and scrunched as she cries. She's so small, so fragile, but she's here. She's here.

Finn is quiet beside me, staring down at our daughter like he can't believe it's real. His eyes are wide, filled with wonder and something else—something deeper, like all the love he's been holding onto for the past nine months is pouring out of him at once.

"She's perfect," I whisper, brushing a finger across her soft cheek.

"Isla Sofia Brookes," Finn says, his voice trembling as he says her name for the first time. He leans in again, this time pressing a kiss to her tiny forehead. "Welcome to the world, Isla."

I smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten as I watch Finn's face soften, his whole being wrapped around this moment. He lifts his hand to stroke her head, careful and gentle, his eyes shining.

"Hey there, little caterpillar," he murmurs softly, almost to himself.

I laugh, though it comes out shaky, my voice weak from the effort. "You've been calling her that for months. Why 'caterpillar,' Finn?"

He glances at me, a small smile tugging at his lips, before turning back to Isla, who's now nestled peacefully in my arms, her tiny fingers wrapped around Finn's pinky.

"Because you're my butterfly," he says quietly, his voice tender. "And just like you, she'll grow into something beautiful. But for now, she's our little caterpillar."

I feel my heart swell at his words, a lump forming in my throat. Finn looks up at me, and for a moment, it's just us—our little family.