Violent violet and bubblegum pink

There's blind panic in her eyes, he can see it.

"Look at me."

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With an effort, she does, her grey eyes locked on his.

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And if he wasn't holding her up with both arms, he'd cup her cheek, but he can't.

"Focus. Breathe. Breathe with me. You can do this."

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After a moment, she nods unsteadily, and slowly her breathing syncs with his.

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"Okay."

He chances a small smile as the contraction finally passes.

"You wanna walk?"

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A tiny smile, and she nods again.

"Yeah."

A bit sheepishly, "Thanks, Bernard."

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"No need," he murmurs, slipping an arm around her and starting to pace the floor.

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simon_doctor

Simon stands a little ways back, watching.

There's little he can do at this stage except reassure and comfort the patient, and Bernard's handling that well on his own.

He's keeping track of the contractions in his head.

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Nymphadora turns to Simon, finally able to relax a bit, and bites her lip. "Think I'm progressing at all, with the dilating?"

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There's a small noise from the doorway.

Aziraphael, come directly from the kitchen, was already looking rather pale; now he's almost green.

"Well that was - certainly an interesting welcome."

He comes a little further into the room, eyeing 'Dora with worry evident in his eyes.

"How are you coping, dearest?"

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"Oh-- angel."

Nymphadora holds out a hand to him, and Bernard flashes Aziraphael a weary half-grin. The Barman, confident she'll have a hand to hold for a few minutes, steps aside to quietly confer with Simon.

"I'm okay. Well, sort of."

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"'Sort of' is only to be expected, of course."

He takes her arm, supporting her - he's got a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"Er. Pardon me for asking, dear, but... I take it you're not far along enough that someone should be making ready to catch?"

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"No, no -- unfortunately I'm not fully dilated yet, so if he were t'make a break for it now, I'd be in a world of hurt." A feeble smile. "Well, more of one, anyway."

With a shaky sigh, she leans her head against his chest.

"How are you? Everyone out there doing okay?"

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There most certainly wasn't anything as undignified as a whimper. For someone who's lived so long, he's attended surprisingly few births - he tended to be off... summoning shepherds, and the like.

He gently strokes her hair, ducking his head to press a kiss to the crown of hers.

"Everyone's well supplied with tea and mildly alcoholic beverages, and there's even almost enough seating - not a thing for you to worry about."

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"Thank you for being here," Nymphadora replies, muffled against the wool of his jumper.

She might be sniffling, slightly.

"You all came, and it just means so much to me."

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He might flail, just a little.

"Oh heck, 'Dora, please don't. You'll set me off."

He does reasonably well at injecting a little laughter into his voice, which is explanation enough for the unsteadiness.

"Of course we came - we love you."

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"I love you too." Nymphadora tips her face up and grins, now, still looking a little red around the eyes.

She hestitates, slightly, before speaking again. "Did Crowley get here yet?" she asks, looking intently at Aziraphael.

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He smiles easily enough, but looks over to where Simon and Bernard are conferring rather than meet her eyes.

"Of course he made it. He's in the living room with a fresh cup of tea - and, no doubt, exceedingly sore flight muscles - as we speak."

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A relieved look. "Oh, good. I'm glad. Did you--"

But her query's cut off by a fresh contraction, and the witch's hand clenches tightly around Aziraphael's as she nearly doubles over from the pain.

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"Oh hell, love."

His voice is almost a whisper, and he lets her squeeze his hand as hard as she needs, supporting her.

When she straightens a little, pain still evident on her face, he brushes dark hair away from her eyes.

"Do you want me to help a little?"

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Nymphadora concentrates on breathing through the contraction, but nods a little, unable to speak.

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He holds tight to her hand with one of his, the other going to cup her face. A slight crease between his eyebrows as he concentrates, and the pain starts to ease. It's not gone, not entirely, but perhaps a little more distant.

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