"How lucky are we that we happened to be performing so close to our hospital?" Heath remarked as he looked out the window at the Santa Monica freeway.

"Yeah, we're so lucky," MJ responded, and something in her voice made Heath turn to look at her.

He didn't like what he saw.

MJ was leaning against the door on the far side of the car, feet up on the seat between them. The seat belt was twisted to such a degree that it probably wouldn't do much good if they were unfortunate enough to get in an accident.

She was very pale, and even though the back of the car was quite cool, Heath could see perspiration trickling down her temples. Her eyes were closed, and she was gripping the head rest very tightly.

Heath unbuckled his own seatbelt and slid across so he could grasp the hand closest to him. It was clammy, and the fingers closed very tightly on his.

Heath lowered the privacy window to talk to the driver. It was Ramon, one of their regular drivers, and someone he knew quite well.

"Could you go faster, please, Ramon, yeah?"

"I'm already going over the limit, Mr. Heath," Ramon replied. Amazingly, there was little traffic on the I-10 that night, possibly because it was close to eleven o'clock on a weeknight. And no one went the speed limit in California, Heath knew that.

Next to him, MJ shifted her hips and let out a long, hissing breath, squeezing his hand painfully tight as she did so.

"Ramon, MJ's in a lot of pain, and we need to get to hospital as fast as we can," Heath said, trying manfully not to yell. "You need to go as fast as this car will go. If you get any tickets, I'll pay them, and I'll square everything with your boss, and make sure you don't lose your job, okay?"

"Please, Ramon," MJ spoke up from next to Heath, and the pain in her voice was palpable. It terrified Heath to hear her sound that way, and it really motivated Ramon, because Heath felt the car speed up immediately, and they began passing the houses and other cars on the freeway at a much faster pace.

Every few minutes MJ would sit up and hunch over, as she felt another contraction. She pulled on Heath's hand, squeezing, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He could smell the floral scent of her hair, and he remembered when they'd first met, how that fragrance used to drive him crazy.

He reached to rub her back once when she was leaned forward, and MJ gasped, "Don't!"

Heath dropped his hand right away.

When MJ leaned back against the car door, he looked into her eyes for an explanation.

"Does your back hurt when I touch it?" he questioned.

She shook her head. "Sweaty," she answered. "Gross," she added.

Heath rolled his eyes. "Oh my god, MJ, stop, please," he said. "I didn't notice when your contractions started, so how long do you think you've been having them?"

MJ shrugged. "Hard to say. Maybe two days?"

"TWO DAYS?" Heath repeated. "Have you lost your fucking mind? You've been having fucking contractions for two days and you didn't think to fucking tell me?"

"Thought they were Braxton-Hicks," she gasped, keeping her eyes closed. "Hours apart, like five on Tuesday, maybe eight yesterday, didn't think it was a big deal." She shrugged.

"You didn't want to cancel the gig," Heath accused. "Don't lie to me, MJ. You just--"

MJ shuddered as another painful contraction overtook her, and she leaned forward, grabbing Heath's shoulders with both hands, pressing her face into his chest, and pulling her legs up.

"They didn't feel like this, Heath, ohmygod they didn't," she gasped as she clutched him. "You know me, you know I'm not a pussy about pain, but this--" she relaxed as it subsided.

She released her painful grip on Heath, and turned a tearful face to him. "The babies were really active until yesterday, and then nothing since this morning. And something feels weird, like I've got something wedged in."

"How do you mean?" Heath asked, wiping her face with his shirt. "Wedged in how? What does that mean?" He was frustrated at his lack of understanding.

"Just what I said. Like I've got a board or something wedged sideways between my hips," MJ replied." She stared at Heath, eyes huge. "Oh god, Heath, what if something's wrong, what if something's wrong because I didn't say anything because I didn't want to miss the gig? Oh my god, what if something's wrong because--"

"Shh, nothing's wrong, petal," Heath responded, kissing her forehead. "You've been going to the doctor every two weeks, they've been monitoring everything, you've been doing everything right, no hypertension, no pre-eclampsia, no swelling, no diabetes--" he broke off and smiled. "Listen to me, I sound like a medical textbook," he added.

"Almost there, Miss MJ," Ramon called back. "You doing okay?" He sounded nervous and alert.

"I'm okay Ramon," MJ responded.

"My wife, she's so excited for your babies, she'd kill me if I let anything happen to you, so don't worry about anything, okay? Two minutes and we'll be at the hospital," he assured her.

"Thank you," Heath answered.

🌟🏥🌟🏥🌟🏥🌟🏥🌟🏥🌟🏥🌟

"Okay, MJ, let's see what these babies are up to, shall we?" Dr. Gettleman's cheerful voice called out as she entered the room.

MJ and Heath both felt relief, just from hearing her voice.

She lifted MJ's gown and looked at her enormous belly.

Heath was still amazed and humbled every time he saw it. The fact that there were babies inside, two, that he'd helped create, boggled his mind. He could never see it as anything but a beautiful thing, and never understood when he saw some men online complaining that they wanted their wives' bodies to "go back" to the way they were.

"Well, I think just from looking that one of the babies has turned into breech position," Dr. Gettleman said. "Let me just confirm, okay?" She put her hands on MJ, touching and pressing very gently when she had to, listening with her stethoscope. While she was performing the exam, MJ explained what she was feeling, and how long she'd been feeling it.

"Yes," the doctor finally said, agreeing with herself. "Remember when you were in last Friday, we felt one head here, and the other down somewhere around here?" She smiled. "Well, they've been doing some baby gymnastics in your uterus, because the one that was upside down, with her head down here, is now right side up, and it feels like she's kind of cross-legged. That's what's causing the 'wedged in' feeling you're describing." She pulled MJ's gown down and patted her arm. "That's why your contractions are so painful, I'm afraid. Your uterus can't contract very efficiently when there's no head pressing down to stretch out and efface the cervix."

"So does this mean my labor's going to be harder?" MJ asked.

Dr. Gettleman looked at Heath, who looked back at her, understanding in his eyes.

"Actually, it means your labor will be a bit easier," Dr. Gettleman said gently. "I'm afraid that with a baby in breech position after you're in active labor a vaginal delivery is no longer an option."

"What? What does that mean?" MJ had another contraction, and she held Heath's hand while Dr. Gettleman helped her sit up and breathe through it.

"MJ," Heath said, his voice, quiet. "You can't have a vaginal delivery if one of the babies is breech. You know that."

MJ looked at Heath as the meaning of his words, and the doctor's, finally made it into her pain-addled brain. "No, Heath, no, I don't want a C-section." Her face crumpled and she finally gave in to the tears that had been threatening for the past few hours.

"We had a birth plan and everything, Heath," she reminded him through her tears. "A natural birth."

"It was a long shot, we both knew that," Heath said, smoothing her hair. "With twins, everything's riskier, right? We hoped for a natural birth, but we knew it might not happen."

"But I'm such a big, giant, healthy girl," MJ sobbed, her voice bitter with sarcasm.

Heath's heart twisted. He hadn't heard her refer to herself in this sad, biting way in so long.

"Come on, Heath, look at me," she said, brown eyes swimming with tears as she grasped his hands. "I come from people who gave birth while working in the fields or whatever, I should be able to do this." Her voice rose. "I mean, what's the point in having 'huge, child-bearing hips' if I'm not even going to fucking bear children through them? Hmm?"

Both Dr. Gettleman and Heath couldn't help their smiles at her inadvertently hilarious words, but, luckily, MJ was so wrapped up in her misery that she didn't notice.

"No."

"Sorry?" Heath looked at MJ's miserable face.

"No Caesarean section," MJ declared, her voice strong.

"What do you mean?" Heath asked. "What do you want to do, then?"

"Wait."

"For what?"

"We'll wait for her to turn back around," MJ said, nodding confidently.

Dr. Gettleman looked at Heath over MJ's head and shook her own head slightly.

Don't argue with her, she's not herself right now, the look said.

"We can wait a bit before making a final decision," the doctor said. "We'll do it your way for now, but we'll have to figure something out soon, okay?"

MJ and Heath nodded, MJ with confidence, Heath with unease.

As soon as the doctor left, someone came in and hooked up two external monitors to keep track of the babies' vital signs, and soon the room was alive with the various beeps and noises of the equipment that was recording the stats for MJ and her two unborn daughters.

"Heath?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

MJ gestured. "For all of this. It's all my fault." She started to cry again, silently.

"No, no, don't think that, it's not good for you, or for the babies, please."

As he moved to put an arm around her, a nurse came to check the equipment, and moments later Dr. Gettleman came back in.

She, too, checked the equipment, and turned to talk to them.

MJ had a contraction while she was speaking, and didn't hear her, but Heath spoke to her as soon as she relaxed.

He wiped MJ's forehead and helped her get a drink of water while Dr. Gettleman watched, waiting for a response from both of them, it seemed.

"MJ, did you hear her?" Heath asked.

MJ shook her head.

"One of the babies' vitals are dropping, darling," Heath said, and MJ could hear the whispery quality in his voice, the naked fear. "The doctor thinks that when all the moving around was going on, maybe one of the cords got wrapped around the neck or something. At any rate, we can't wait any longer, darling, okay?"

"They have to come out, now, I'm afraid," Dr. Gettleman said. There was no room for argument in her voice.

MJ nodded. "Okay," she agreed. A fresh tear spilled down the side of her face. "Okay. Let's do it, then.

"Where's my dad?"

"He's on his way, darling."

There were already people waiting to transfer MJ to a gurney.

"I love you, MJ, let's go, yeah?"

MJ nodded.