I can’t do this.

My breath hitches, my body locking up as another contraction slams into me, stealing the air from my lungs.

Atlas is right there, his voice in my ear, his hands never leaving mine. His grip is the only thing tethering me to this room, to this moment.

“You can do it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, wrecked with something I can’t name but need more than air. “Breathe. Remember your training.”

Fucking training.

What’s next? Calling me Daniel-san and himself Mr. Miyagi? Because I don’t think so.

“I can’t—” I gasp, my head falling back against the pillows, exhaustion clawing at me. It’s too much. “Atlas, I can’t.”

His fingers smooth over my damp hair, gentle despite the tension thrumming through him.

“You can, baby,” he whispers. “You’re the strongest person I know. You got this.”

I shake my head, a sob breaking free. I don’t have this. I don’t have anything.

“You do it,” I choke out, voice raw. “I’m done. You fucking do it.”

A rough sound leaves him, something between a laugh and a curse. “If I could, you know I would.” His lips brush my forehead, his breath uneven. He’s scared, too. I can feel it in the way he holds me, in the way his voice falters just slightly when he whispers, “I know it hurts. But she’s almost here.”

“Blythe, it’s time.” Simone’s voice cuts through the haze, calm but firm.

I blink up at her through tears, through exhaustion. She’s waiting.

They’re all waiting.

“I need you to push.”

I squeeze Atlas’s hand so hard I might break it, but he doesn’t complain. Doesn’t flinch. He takes it, takes everything I give him, and holds me tighter.

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

I do.

His blue eyes burn with love, with pride, with something so deep it makes me forget the pain for half a second.

“One more push, sweetheart. One more, and she’s here.”

One more.

Just one more.

I nod. Not because I believe I can do it but because I believe him. If he says I can, then I can.

And then—I push.

The room blurs, my body shaking, the pressure swallowing me whole—and then it happens.

A cry.

Small at first, then louder, filling the room, filling me.

My breath catches, my body going still. The pain is there, but it’s background noise now.

Because she’s here.

“She’s here,” Simone says, voice thick with emotion.

Atlas shudders against me, his forehead pressing into mine.

“You did it, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing my temple, his hands still cradling mine. He’s shaking. “She’s perfect.”

Tears burn down my face, my entire body trembling as I try to catch my breath.

Relief, love, exhaustion—it all crashes into me at once, drowning me.