A/N: Yeah, that summary is a little crazy.

This is a sequel for Remy's Pursuit but you DO NOT have to read the first one to be able to know what's going on. This whole story will take place in the hospital up until the baby is born and then we're done. Ok? Ok? Ok.

Thanks for reading and please review :)

This story is dedicated to Ariana, who gets more and more awesome everyday and inspired this story more than she knows.

…

AH! Oh no...I'm worried and what else was I going to say? Oh yeah, gross.

This is gross. But even though it is gross, I'm excited. But also scared. My water just broke. This should be a time of happiness. But it's very gross. And it makes me panicky. This is my first, I've never had any babies before, and even though all of the baby books told me that it couldn't happen…what if the baby just FALLS OUT?

What do I do then? Well…I suppose I would catch it. Oh my…The baby is NOT going to fall out. I'm ok, the baby is ok, and Remy…Well, Remy is freaking out more than I am.

Exactly one minute ago my water broke. And exactly one minute ago, I came out of the bathroom and told Remy what happened. To my surprise, Remy is running around our tiny apartment, grabbing things we need and seemingly not hearing when I tell him that I already have a bag for the hospital packed.

Suddenly he stops running halfway to the kitchen to look over at me. He's got my suitcase in one hand, his coat in another, and a towel for me slung over his shoulder. Somehow during his frantic searching for the suitcase his hair has come to stick up in every direction. His face is flushed and his eyes are a little wild.

"Wait…" he says slowly, "are we going to need to bring bottles?"

I shake my head as I heave my big butt up from leaning on the wall and reach for the towel over his shoulder. "No, I'm breastfeeding. But I do need some pants." I indicate my soaked pants from where my water broke.

Nodding, he drops everything on the couch and runs to our bedroom.

Hm…I hope he's ok. He looks nervous, though I'm the nervous one. I'm the one who has to deliver a baby. Oh crap….for nine months I've tried to forget that part. But now it's hitting me. The baby has to come out. One way or another, it's coming out and it's up to me to get it out.

But I should take a deep breath. They have epidurals now. An epidural makes it so that you don't feel anything when you have a baby. That's good. I want one of those. Or ten of them. I've been cramping all day…I think these are early contractions. Or maybe I just have gas.

Oh yeah, I should call everyone. They're going to want to know. But maybe I should wait until I get settled into the hospital. Yes…that would probably be a better idea.

But just as this thought goes through my mind, the phone rings. I waddle across the living room and pick it up just as Remy comes back in with a fresh pair of sweat pants for me.

"Hello?" I ask, a little out of breath from my short trip. Don't laugh at me! I can't help it, the baby weighs me down! It's heavy.

"Rogue, do you have something to tell us?" Kitty asks with barely controlled excitement.

Wait…no…surely they don't know. They can't.

"Um…do I?" I ask uncertainly as Remy frantically waves the pants in front of me. I take them and start slipping my soaked pants off.

"We know." Kitty says simply. "We're at the hospital."

I gape at Remy as she says this. HOW the hell do they KNOW?

"What?" I ask incredulously as I ignore Remy's waving hands telling me to hurry up.

"Yeah, somehow, Jean just knew it was going to happen today so we came ahead up here. We're in the waiting room. Hurry up." And she rudely hung up with a click.

Wait…what? Kitty hung up the PHONE? Jean knew it was going to happen today? Jean knew it was going to happen today and didn't TELL ME but she told everyone else? EVERYONE is up at the hospital? And—oh great I'm leaking again. Stupid water breaking.

Remy looks a little grossed out as he hands me the towel quickly.

"Come on, we have to hurry." He says frantically. "If you talk on the phone for another hour, we're going to end up having the baby right here."

I roll my eyes as I try to clean myself up. "I did not talk on the phone for an hour that was about a minute."

"A minute too long," he says shortly before grabbing my suitcase. "I'm taking this to the car, I'll be right back."

Sighing, I pull my fresh pair of pants on and wait. I try to put my tennis shoes on, but it was all in vain. My stomach is too big nowadays to allow such privileges. I can't wait until I'm able to put them on again. Or until I can put on my non-maternity jeans. Or drink a beer. I turned twenty one eight months ago and I never got to drink anything. Though if I'm breastfeeding, I'm going to have to wait a lot longer to be able to have a drink.

I also can't wait until my emotions are more under control, but apparently, according to all the know-it-all doctors, my emotions will probably be a mess even after the baby is here. I just hope I don't cry over buying the wrong kind of oatmeal again…oh…I can't think about that. That was a horrible experience.

But I'm not going to cry about it! Not again anyway.

But I will sit on the couch and cry over not being able to put my shoes on. I've cried over that a lot of times but it never gets less depressing.

This is how Remy finds me. He rushes over to me and gets on his knees, looking more alarmed than he did a few moments ago.

"Hey now, what's a matter?" He asks gently as he pushes my hair back behind my ears.

I sniffle sadly as I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. "My shoes…" I say sadly, indicating the evil shoes lying by my feet, looking so innocent when they really are EVIL. Who knows why I bought evil shoes. I didn't know they were evil when I bought them. But if I knew that the factory they were made in was stationed in hell, I never would have bothered.

Remy smiles softly and takes my feet in his hands. "Don't you worry about nothin' now, Remy's got it." He slips my shoes on and starts to tie the laces as I stare at him.

Aw…he's so sweet. So very…very…very…

I burst into tears again. But it's nothing out of the ordinary, it's perfectly normal for people to burst into tears when someone does something nice for them. I…uh…used to do it ALL THE TIME before I was pregnant. Ahem. That is not a lie! Don't you think it is! You wouldn't want to make a pregnant woman cry, would you?

I didn't think so.

Remy, who has come so used to this by now, finishes tying my shoes before leaning forward and hugging me. He kisses my forehead and shushes soothingly at me. I wonder why he's not freaking out anymore. A few moments ago he was acting like I was a ticking time bomb.

But…oh my lord. I AM a time bomb. I'm going to explode any minute! No…the books said that wouldn't happen either. But what if the books are all wrong? WHAT if I do explode, the baby falls out, we don't catch it and—and—and…no! I have to catch the baby! I am going to be a TERRIBLE mother!

"Remy, I'm scared," I whisper fearfully. "What if I don't do it right?"

Remy leans back a little and searches my face. "What if you don't do what right?"

"Everything!" I say as a fresh wave of tears come flooding to my eyes. "What if I'm a bad mother? What if I can't breastfeed? What if I don't push right? What do I do if I get sick when the baby spits up or poops or-"

"Um-"

I suddenly gasp as something else comes to mind. "Oh my God! Remy! We never bought any baby wipes! We got a butt-load of diapers in there, but no baby wipes! What are we going to do Remy? How are we going to live without baby wipes?"

Remy takes my face in both hands and leans forward, staring intently into my eyes. "Rogue, I love you." He says firmly, "I will call Kurt and ask him to pick us up some baby wipes. We will get some, no matter what. If you get sick when the baby poops or spits up, that would be the most natural reaction in the world. You can breastfeed, but if you can't, we'll get formula." He smiles a little as I start to calm down. "And honey, I'm not a woman, but the doctor said pushing out the baby is like going to the bathroom. And we all know how to do that, don't we?"

I laugh softly at this. Ok…he's right. There's no need to freak out. I can push out the baby. I can feed the baby and change the baby…

"And Rogue," Remy says, "you're not going to be a bad mother. You're my favorite person in the whole world; I can't imagine that you could ever be bad at anything."

Aw…See, that's why I married him. He's sweet…sometimes anyway…and he loves me. That, and he's got an amazing body, but that's not important right now.

"I love you Remy." I give him a watery smile and he stands and pulls me to my feet.

"And I love you, chérie," pulling me close, he slips an arm under my knees and another across my back. "But right now we have to get to the hospital. Put your arms around my neck."

"But I can walk-" I protest as he easily lifts my weight up and starts for the door.

"We should have been at the hospital ten minutes ago," he says gently as we slip through the door and he somehow pulls it closed behind us. "I'm not takin' any chances."

"Oh…ok then." I concede and lay my head comfortably on his chest. I'm thankful at this moment (as I've been at many other moments) for the power inhibitor Remy provided me with so long ago. I keep it on a chain around my neck, tucked under my shirt so that I can be safe always.

We live in a tiny, dirt cheap apartment but we're never able to get a decent parking spot. Most of the time we end up parking on the side of the road. And the road is a good ways away from our apartment, so that sucks. I'm not sure where Remy parked the car today. He just got back from an impromptu trip to New Orleans to help out his sick father in the hospital. I'd only gotten to see him for five minutes before my water broke.

Fortunately, the car wasn't very far away. It wasn't in front of our apartment, but it was in the parking lot at least and in front of someone else's place. Remy eased me down and helped me in; gently closing the door behind me as if he thought the vibrations would rattle the baby. I feel like I'm being treated more like an accident victim than a pregnant woman, but it's nice. I like being taken care of.

It's June, and the weather is disgustingly hot. This is made even worse for me by the whole pregnant thing which just makes me ten times hotter than I usually am in the summer. So I blast the air conditioner as high as it goes the whole way to the hospital.

Remy doesn't say much. He looks like he's concentrating on the road. Well, actually, he looks like he's dying to put his foot down on the accelerator, but he's driving like an old lady. Thirty is the highest speed he'll go. He actually brakes at the yellow light instead of speeding up (huh, is THAT what you're supposed to do when it's yellow?) and he slows down to a crawl whenever he sees a bump in the road coming up.

When we went over a particularly deep pothole and I lightly bumped my head on the window, he cursed and threatened to sue the city.

I'm not kidding.

My nerves are barely holding on. I really wish he had let me drive. This is driving me nuts. It makes me want to cry. But I won't! But it is something worth crying about, so don't think it isn't. At the speed that we're going, I'm pretty sure that if I jumped out of the moving car right now, I would be perfectly fine. In fact, I don't think I would have a scratch to prove that I'd jumped out of the car.

Just when I've reached the point when I'm about to grab the steering wheel, we roll up to the emergency exit.

"Ok," Remy says, suddenly sounding panicked again, "I'll take you in and-"

"NO!" I nearly shout as I try not to think about how long that would take. "I can walk," I tell him sweetly and I jerk my door open and scramble out before he can protest. "Park the car and bring the bag in. I'll sit down and wait for-"

I'm cut off by the sound of some kind of weird and loud squealing. For a moment I figure that someone's car nearby must have bad brakes or something. But then when I turn towards the source of the noise, it's to see Kitty bounding toward me.

Oh wow. Let's forget about what I said about the bad brakes….and let's not mention that to Kitty.

"Rogue! Rogue! We knew it! We KNEW! Jean just knew!" She stops and starts bouncing on the balls of her feet excitedly as Remy speeds off. Wait, speeds off? NOW he speeds?

"Ok, that's nice," I grumble as I start to waddle towards the sliding emergency doors. Oh wow, my back hurts. And my feet hurt. And my ankles. And my legs…and pretty much my whole body. Being pregnant hurts. And good lord it's HOT outside.

I place my one hand on my back as Kitty walks beside me, still chattering like an annoying little bird.

"Are you having contractions? How far apart are they? When did they start? When's your due date again? Jean already went ahead and booked you a private room."

"She did?" I ask. Jean works in the hospital as a nurse now, but she doesn't work in the maternity ward. She actually works in the ER (emergency room).

"Yep," Kitty nods happily, sending her ponytail bobbing up and down behind her.

As we walk through the doors of the ER, I'm immediately rushed at by Jean (in a pair of green scrubs), Kurt, and Professor X. It was kind of freaky. I'm not used to everyone paying so much attention to me all at once. And I'm especially not used to everyone coming towards me at the same time…it's creepy.

They all start talking at once, asking me question after question that I can't possibly answer when they won't give me any time. I can't get a word in edgewise and it makes me want to cry. Again.

Fortunately, I'm saved by Remy who runs in behind us, nearly toppling over me he's running so fast.

"You haven't checked in yet?" He asks wildly before taking hold of my hand and herding me over to the counter.

He signs me in as one of the nurses brings a wheelchair around the desk for me. I eye it distastefully before I ease down into it. I don't need a stupid wheelchair. It's completely unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of walking to the room myse—OH crap, contraction. This one's a little stronger. But it's not unendurable. But with it comes more leakage.

Lovely.

"That happens when you're water breaks, you don't have to be embarrassed," the nurse tells me in a soft little voice as she wheels me through a pair of swinging doors.

"It just keeps coming like that?" I ask nervously as I try to cover up the wet spot on my pants with my hands.

"Oh yes, that's completely normal."

Remy is suddenly beside me again, a little out of breath. He slips a hand into mine and squeezes it.

The nurse (whose name is Shelby) sets us up in a humongous private delivery room up in the maternity ward and helps me into a gown and up onto the bed. The room is large (I'm guessing because they would need a lot of room to move around) and has five sitting chairs, a TV, a nice view of the city out of the window, and a bathroom connected to it.

Nurse Shelby is just checking my blood pressure when a doctor comes in. I recognize him—though I only met him once. He's got brown curly hair and he's as short as I am. This is not the doctor that I want to help deliver my baby but apparently you don't get to choose. I didn't really care for this guy because…well…he's very strange. I could swear that he was a pervert but I can't seem to catch him in the act…Oh, you'll see what I mean.

"Good afternoon, Rogue," he smiles…creepily. Yeah, is smile is creepy. He's just one of those unfortunate people who have a creepy smile. "Are you in labor?"

I really have to fight not to sling something at his head. Of course I'm in labor you dumbass. Why the hell else would I be here?

"Yes Doctor Mason," I manage to grind out through a plastic smile. "My water broke."

"I see that," he says happily as he places my file on the counter and pulls out a pair of gloves. "Well, let's see what we're working with."

Wait, so he saw that my water broke, but he came in and asked if I was in labor? Oh, I'm in for a crappy experience aren't I?

Nurse Shelby lowers my bed and then runs off to do something across the room. Doctor Stupid comes to stand at the end of the bed and lifts up my gown without any preamble. Remy, still holding my hand, leans down to kiss me on the cheek for seemingly no reason at all.

"I just came back from lunch," Doctor Stupid tells us from between my legs, "I ate a sub sandwich. It was SO good. Yes, it seems that your water has broken."

I fight not to roll my eyes. Good thing he was here to tell me that. Otherwise, I might not ever have been able to tell.

Doctor Stupid nods. "Yep, nice and juicy. The sandwich, I mean," he says quickly when both Remy and I jerk our heads at him. "Lots of juices. And crispy lettuce, MMMM, I'm getting hungry just thinking about it."

OK, SEE what I MEANT? The guy is a pervert! Or is he? I can't tell. He's very weird.

"You're three centimeters dilated," he says, finally pulling away and heading over towards the sink. "Are you having contractions?" He asks as he strips off his gloves and starts washing his hands.

I nod.

"How far apart are they?"

I think for a moment before answering. "Um…about every ten to twelve minutes."

"And how long have they been that consistent?"

"I got up at nine this morning and I've had them since then," I say. "Five hours ago."

"Ok," he finishes drying his hands and then comes over to stand next to the bed. "You're most likely in labor," I try not to roll my eyes again, "but this might not be the end."

"Um…what?" I ask quickly. This BETTER be the end. I'm sick of being pregnant. I want my baby already.

"Sometimes when the water breaks and it's too early, it'll heal itself back up. I saw on your chart that your due date isn't for another week."

"But…you said I was three centimeters dilated."

He shrugs. "That actually doesn't mean anything. Women have gone for weeks while they were three centimeters. You can still do normal, everyday things when you're three centimeters and sometimes you can't even tell that you're that far along."

Oh great. So I might be pregnant for another week or two? NO. Hell no. This baby is coming out today, whether it wants to or not.

"But I wouldn't worry; I'm positive that you're in labor."

What! Then why the hell did he say all of that? Was it just to scare the crap out of me? I'm gonna end up killing this guy, I just know it.

"So I'm going to have Shelby set you up. She's going to hook you up to a machine so that we can monitor both your and baby's heartbeat. That way, we can see how far along your contractions are coming and how long it will take for the baby to come."

Remy and I both nod. Shelby already explained this to us. I really want to tell Doctor Stupid so, just to make him feel even more stupid, but I…oh wow, being pregnant has made me mean. Oh…that kind of makes me want to cry. What…what IF I'm mean to the baby? I certainly don't want to be, but what if I can't help it?

"So, what are we expecting, girl or boy?" Shelby asks us a few moments later after Doctor Stupid has left.

We both shrug. We decided to be old fashion and wait to find out. It was definitely more exciting that way. I think so anyway. Everyone has bet that I'm having a boy because I crave blueberries constantly. I'm leaning more towards a boy, Remy thinks it's a girl, and Kitty thinks it's a girl too.

Who knows…maybe its twins.

Oh good lord. Thank God it's not twins. We have ultrasound pictures to prove it, too.

Wait…that wasn't nice. I should thank God if it was twins. Blessed with two children, that's a good thing. I'm so horrible. I think I'm going to cry about it. And I just thought of this, but maybe we should have found out if it was a girl or a boy. What if the baby has its feelings hurt when we go back to the apartment and it sees its nursery? We didn't know the sex of the baby so we painted it green.

What if the baby hates green? Oh my gosh…WHAT if the baby hates the apartment? What if…what if…

Ok, I'm gonna go cry now.