Tom opened the door, only to walk in and find plentiful photos and magazine articles spread across the floor with Tord in the middle of it all.

"Babe, what are you doing?" he asked, thoroughly stumped as to why Red Leader would need so many photos of himself in a single spot.

"I'm making a collage," came the simple answer, Tord not looking up from his task.

"Well, it looks like you're at war with these pictures."

"Haha, very funny Tom."

The eyeless Brit grinned, shutting the door behind him as he left. Tord then reclined on the floor, surveying the work he'd done so far. Over a fourth of the poster board was covered with photos from different points during his pregnancy. Some of them were his official photos, like the one hidden in the far corner of his desk. He and Tom had to pose for plenty of those, at least once a month. As his stomach distended further, he eventually had to wear Tom's coat instead and finally, no coat at all. He chuckled at how the photographer squawked at him to button up his coat, despite telling them that he had already attempted and failed.

Other photos were more light-hearted, like the plentiful magazine photos he'd taken. These ones were taken in a plethora of different outfits, from a cute pair of overall shorts that he'd received as a gift afterwards (and unfortunately couldn't wear any longer) to even animal pajamas. He picked up a magazine clipping of him and Tom off the floor, smiling wistfully. Tom had made a heart with his hands over his stomach, and they'd taken the photo while he was in mid-laugh, making him look youthful and sprightly. In reality, he was extremely tired that day. Chuckling at the irony and how the photoshop artists graciously removed his dark circles from lack of sleep, he glued it down to the paper.

He picked up another one, and immediately cringed at the memories it held. It was a large photo, taken for the cover of a gossip magazine. It was of him, taken with a dark background and minimal light to illuminate his frame. He was completely nude in this one, thankfully from the waist up, with both hands on his baby bump. He head was held high, giving of an air of regality. Tom in particular liked that one, but he sure didn't like posing for it. The studio was cold, and him being half-naked sure didn't help. He glued it down in the center, as it was the focus of his collage.

Picking up the magazine it was cut out from, he flipped through it until he found a particular article. '10 Things about Red Leader's Pregnancy that the Media Hasn't Told You.' It was a cheesy cash grab, and the selling article for this edition of the magazine, but he had to admit he was genuinely interested in what they thought he was hiding. They weren't anything special, just general statements and wild guesses. None of which were right, by the way. He set the magazine down, sighing softly. He stood up slowly, wincing at the pain in his lower back. He really needed a back massage.

After stretching for a good bit, he went back to work, clipping and gluing pictures of himself and Tom. A fourth became a half, a half became three-fourths, and three-fourths soon became the entire poster board covered with photos. Standing up to admire his work, he nearly screamed. Another pain washed through him, causing his muscles to contract painfully.

"God, I really hope these are just Braxton Hicks contractions," he gasped, clutching his belly.

When the pain had gone down a little bit, he turned his attention back to his handiwork. The collage was beautiful, he would have to get it framed for the nursery after he gave birth. He cleaned up the supplies, sweeping up any paper scraps. He had to stop halfway through, however, when the pain became too much for him. Tom always suggested that he rest if he feels tired or is in pain, so he decided to take up that advice. He sat down in his chair, a shock going up his spine, and caressed his large belly. His twins were pretty active, shifting around in his lower gut. He gasped aloud when one of them moved, a part of their body digging into his stomach and creating a noticeably bump in the skin. He pressed down on it a little, only for them to kick back against his hand. It was pretty painful, and he tried to coax them in the other direction to no avail. His belly twitched from the force of their kicking, and he let out another gasp followed by a moan when one of them shifted near the top of his belly.

"G-god this hurts," he hissed, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

He could feel his twins moving and kicking, only worsening his pain. He moaned in agony, clutching his belly.

"T-tom!" he yelled, clutching at the armrests.

Pounding feet could be heard outside, and the door opened as his water broke. Fluid trickled down his thighs, and he screamed in agony as the contractions seemed to get more intense.

"Are you alright, love?" the eyeless Brit asked.

"What does it look like, babe?"

"Alright, I get it. We're heading to the infirmary in a few, I just need to grab somethings."

Tom scrambled to collect a few items in a duffel bag, before slinging it over his shoulder and picking Tord up bridal-style. Soldiers parted as the two made their way down the hall, accompanied by shouts of "Congrats!" and "Good luck!". Tord groaned, another contraction making his legs tremble from the effort.

"Oh god babe it feels like I'm going to die," he gasped, clutching at Tom's vest.

"Shh, It's alright," he comforted, "Just breathe."

Someone had apparently gone ahead and told Otis that they were coming, because the brunette doctor had a room already set up for them. The trip down the hall was awkward to say the least, as Tord could barely walk. Eventually they got him settled and began the wait.

Tom had read up a ton on how this process went (way more than he'd like to admit), so by asking his husband a few questions on how he was feeling, he easily deduced that they still had a couple of hours left in here.

"You alright love?" he whispered, clutching the Norwegian's robotic hand.

"Ngh, could be better," he replied, moaning softly.

Rubbing Tord's baby bump, he whispered, "You're doing great, they'll be here in no time."

"Better be," Tord groaned, "I don't want to have to resort to a C-section."

"I know love, Otis will try his best."

Speaking of, Otis strolled in calmly, handing Tom a cup of coffee before sitting in chair next to Tord's bed.

"H-how are you so calm during this?" the Norwegian asked.

"It's because I'm not the one having the baby," he said back smugly.

"Haha, very funny."

The three of them talked, discussing random things about the twins, giving and receiving advice, and plenty other things. Only an hour later, Tord let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Oh god, Otis I can't! I'll die, I can't do this!" he whimpered, holding Tom's hand like a lifeline.

"It'll be okay Tord, I promise," the brunette replied, using his real name instead of his title. Tord let it slide this one time, he was in way too much pain.

"Do you have an urge to push?"

"Y-yes!"

The Norwegian "mother"-to-be groaned and even screamed as intense contractions rolled through him, one after the other. After a while of pushing, however, Otis told him to stop.

"W-wait, why?"

"Something's wrong."

The two words Tord was dreading to hear from the second he found out he was pregnant. Almost immediately, he began to panic.

"Oh god something's wrong and I'm probably going to die," he whined, eye blown wide.

"Don't blow it out of proportion, I figured it out," Otis said, slightly snappily.

"Well, what is it?"

"Your first one procrastinated, and didn't fully turn downwards. They're sideways."

"Probably from how much they were moving around earlier."

Tord then had the realization that to safely birth his first child, he'd have to get a C-section.

Turning to Tom, he said, "Babe, is there any alternative to a C-section?"

"No, don't think so."

Tord looked up, only to find Otis bustling around getting things ready.

"Tom, time to vacate the premises," he instructed.

With a last goodbye to his laboring husband, Tom left, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Alrighty Tord, I'm going to need you to lay on your side," Otis instructed.

Tord did what he was told, rolling onto his side on the small hospital bed. He was confused as to what was going on, but finally got the hint when there was a prick at the small of his back. He yelped, until Otis shushed him.

"Everything's fine, just setting up your epidural," he reassured him.

A catheter was then inserted into the hole, and Otis taped it in place.

"All good, you can lay back down now."

Tord continued to wait as the brunette medic continued his mad dash to get everything ready. An IV was gently inserted into his shoulder, and (embarrassingly) a catheter was used do drain his bladder before the procedure.

"Alright, everything's ready. Let's do this," Otis said.

The rest of the staff seemed to pop out of the ground like daisies the second those words left his mouth. The checked him over one last time to make sure there was nothing that could cause complications, before standing by as Otis made the first incision.

Tord originally wanted to watch, but immediately regretted ever having those thoughts. He could see blood welling from his stomach, and just watching him make the first cut on the outside of his body made him squeamish enough to not want to watch him make the cut on the inside of his body. Oddly enough, his mind flashed to his second in command, Pau, and how utterly frightened he probably would've been, had he be present in the room with him. He laughed, his drug-addled mind imagining the man's horrified face.

"Sir, please keep still," one of the nurses asked him politely.

After a few minutes of silence, in which Tord was very paranoid, there was a sharp cry. Tord cracked open his eye, only to see Otis holding his first born child. He gasped, admiring the human being he and Tom had created. The baby was handed off to a nurse, who immediately rushed off to get them cleaned up. The brunette then went back to work delivering his younger child. Tord tried to watch this time, and he was mesmerized at what he saw. Despite all the blood and guts he could see, he watched as his second born child was pulled from the confines of his womb, squirming up a storm. Otis cleaned their airway, and they began to cry. His youngest was handed off to another nurse, before the brunette turned back to his leader.

"Alright Tord," he said, "We're going to stich you back up, okay?"

He nodded, not really processing his statement. He didn't know when he dozed off during the final stages of the procedure, but after what felt like a couple seconds of sleep he was tapped on the shoulder. Tom was holding both of their children, the duo wrapped up in pastel blue blankets.

"They're both boys, healthy fraternal twins," the eyeless Brit said, tears in his eyes.

He handed on of them to their "mother", who watched as their eyes fluttered open for the first time. Their grey and red orbs were trained on him, and Tord couldn't hold back his tears any longer.

"Tom," he whispered, voice choking up, "We're dads."

"I know love, I know."

"Jeg elsker deg mine små."

aaaaa thank you for writing my baby boy Tau. you're the best :)

- Preggo Sauce

Holy shit this is amazing. Beautiful story and I love it.

If you want me to [or if I'm allowed haha] I could put this into What The Hell and make it a partial-offical chapter and give you all the credit.

In all honesty I was going to write a C-section at some point, just didn't know when or what group to surround it on. [Reminds me that there should be a mild gore tag on the book on AO3 due to all the babies born covered in blood]

You are surely a blessing to me and oh my god ;3;

~Mari