Barricade Birth [Closed with TheDyingDay]

[Kazda]

In a flurry of motion, the barricade began to grow. From a few pieces and scraps of furniture to an actual wall, structural and strong. Jehan was helping, moving as quickly as he could in his current state. Clearly in the last days of his pregnancy, the young poet's belly was round and ripe with child. Less obvious was the fact that his belly was besieged by pain. He panted under his breath, ignoring the strain in his womb, focused on his task, on the revolution at hand, and not on the fact that each pain was following closer on the heels of the last. "Not now..." he thought desperately. He kept his pain carefully bottled up around Courfeyrac, afraid the man would catch on to his current state, and send him away. With a shove, he pushed an old writing desk onto its side, where they could easily take cover beneath it. He placed a hand on his back, feigning the effort of moving the desk had strained him, and not the fact that he was in the clutches of a strong birthing pain.

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac has only come back with a case of his cartridges, an old hat upon his head and a satchel slung around his shoulder, he scanned the barricades to search for Jehan but was called by Enjolras to distribute the cartridgws he has, he sighed and decided to follow what Apollo told him before continuing his search for his pregnant lover.
"Everyone gather round, the cartridges are here!" called out the fanmaker, in a flash, Courfeyrac was surrounded by many rebels asking for the cartridges so they may have ammunition. Hurriedly were they given the cartridges by the centre and soon when all cartridges were distributed, he closed gis suitxase and tossed it to a corner before rushing off in search of his lover.
"Jehan, where are you?" he called out trying to calm himself but failing as his voice trembled with anxiety.

[Kazda]

Jehan heard Courfeyrac's return, but he did not move to greet him. He hid himself in the narrow alleyway between two buildings, feigning he was looking for more furniture, but in truth he knew a pain would be upon him soon. He almost cried out, biting into his own sleeve as he waited for the pain to pass, doubled over and clutching his stomach with one hand. The minute crawled by slowly. Once it was gone, he wiped the sweat away, calming his breath before he stepped out, trying to look as normal as possible. "Courfeyrac," he called toward him, smiling at the sight of his love, and moving to greet him. "Don't sound so troubled. I'm not going to vanish," he promised.

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac sighed in relief at the sight of Jehan, "I was merely anxious for your well being, the same for our child's well being also." he whispered as he rubbed Jehan's round belly.
"Are you alright? Are you not feeling any pain whatsoever?" Courfeyrac inquired as he remembered the poet's current condition.

[Kazda]

Jehan kept himself from biting his lip as he gazed at Courfeyrac, his hands folded over Courfeyrac's against his belly. He knew if he told him the truth, the man would make him leave, and there was no promise they would see each other after that. He was terrified of that possibility, but it did not make lying to him any easier. "No, not yet," he said softly, leaning up to kiss Courfeyrac on the cheek. It was not easy, with his belly between them. "How much longer do we have until...?" he glanced toward the barricade meaningfully, knowing the Guard would be upon them soon.

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac followed his gaze and frowned, "I don't knowz Combeferre did say the guards would come at nightfall." he told the young poet, he sighed, "Enjolras suggested you leave the barricades, so that you and the child would be safe...I think that he is correct with that." he suggested, earlier that day before Courfeyrac went back to get his things, he was called by theie leader on an important matter, his lover. He was told that Jehan was in no condition to fight and must be sent home, this advice however was pondered on by Courfeyrac since he ce back. "Jehan, I want you and our child safe." he whispered.

[Kazda]

Jehan's fear briefly reflected in his gaze. "I know, and I will leave, when it's no longer safe. But I want to be with you, and I feel safe when you're here," he objected, desperate to stay with him, even knowing the baby was coming. But the cloudy sky was already streaked with orange, the sun close to setting. "Don't make me go yet." He was taken by surprise by how quickly the next contraction came, only a few minutes after the last, expression suddenly drawn into a grimace. His hand went to his stomach, mouth knocked open by the pain. "Courf.." he cried out suddenly, following his body's demand to squat and spread his legs, and gasping as a heavy weight pressed into his pelvis. He sat down, his hand resting numbly on his belly, as he glanced up at his lover with horrified, guilty eyes, tinted with the pain of another contraction already building.

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac was horrified at what he saw, now realising what Jehan was going through and that he needed to leave soon, he bent down and placed a hand on his lover's hardened belly and frowned, "How long has this been happening?" he asked, but before Jehan could answer, they heard the sound of marching in the distance, Enjolras called out to the rebels and instructed them where to take theor positions, after doing so he tossed Courfeyrac a carbine and a musket before running off to his post

((Could we give Jehan large triplets by surprise Nd could we give him a VERYdifficult and painful labour and birth?))

[Kazda]

Jehan was trying to stammer out an apology, or some kind of explanation. The sweat which had gathered on him hadn't just been from moving furniture, that was obvious now. But the sound of footsteps stepping in unison made his blood run cold. He stared at Courfeyrac with horror, but suddenly his expression turned fierce, taking a fistful of Courfeyrac's shirt. "They're coming-- Fight them, but don't leave me alone. Please. I can't do this by mys-- auugh!" Jehan curled over his own stomach, face the picture of agony as his body struggled to bring the baby lower. "It hurts!" he cried, begging the contraction to pass. The bulk of the baby was already in his hips, and it felt huge. He did not think he could stand and walk even if he wanted to.

((Sure, sounds awesome!))

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac was about to protest before he decided to do what Jehan has told, he nodded and was about to take position when he saw Jehan curl over his belly, he frowned in concern, "The baby's close isn't it?" he asked as he placed a hand on the poet's belly, "Has your water broken yet?" he asked again as the poet's body was wracked in endless contractions, Courfeyrac watched, pondering if he should fetch Joly or Combeferre until he heard the officer in charge of the Garde Nationale yell, "Fire!" which he immediately went in front of Jehan and shielded him, musket and carbine in hand, "Keep breathing Jehan, keep breathing." he thought to himself.

[Kazda]

Jehan felt guilty and stupid for trying to hide this, but mostly he just felt pain. It tore through his laboring womb in waves, ebbing away, only to build slowly and surge through him again. He shook his head. "That's why I thought I had more time. My water hasn't broken," he explained, between pained breaths. He was still fully clothed. He whimpered in fear when he felt another contraction growing, panic rising. The pain shot through. He gritted his teeth and groaned, at the same time hearing the horrifying, deafening rapport of gunfire blazing around them. It was so loud everything seemed silent a few moments after, Jehan unable to hear his own agonized panting. "Don't get yourself killed because of me," Jehan tried to beg, but another contraction came swiftly, and harder, leaving Jehan twisting and crying from the intense pain, as if his body was fighting itself to open as much as it needed.

[TheDyingDay]

"Hush." Courfeurac whispered, he picked Jehan up and brought him to a safer side of the barricade where Joly was taking post, holding a musket in one hand and his handkerchief in the other. Joly took notice of Jehan and frowned, "Courfeyrac, why did you let Jehan stay?" he asked, Courfeyrac simply shook his head, "He did not want to leave." he said, the two hurriedly spoke of the young poet's predicament and Joly sighed and handed Courfeyrac the musket, he then went near Jehan and started removing Jehan's lower garments.

[Kazda]

Jehan clung to Courfeyrac as he was carried, breathing softly into his neck as he waited for the next pain. It did not occur to him how difficult he must have been to carry. The poet was naturally slender, almost too skinny, before his pregnancy. Most of his body retained its small, narrow shape, but his belly was awkwardly big with child, weighing painfully on his small frame.

Between gunfire and shouts and the fire of another contraction, he could barely make out what the two were saying, but then Joly was beginning to strip him down. His back felt as if a knife was being driven into it. Dizzy with pain, he reached out for Courfeyrac, but did not ask for him, knowing he had told the man to fight. His legs were bare then, and he had enough grace to blush prettily at his indecency. But there was a battle, and no one was paying attention when shots were still ringing through the smoke-filled air. Even his laboring cries were drowned out by the sound.

[TheDyingDay]

"How far apart are your contractions?" Joly asked, from nearby, Courfeyrac was cornered by a Garde Nationale, a musket pointed to him, he called for help but none was there, Bahorel was killed through the musket bayonet and Gavroshe had the bayonet pinned to his throat, all hope was lost for the two trapped rebels, until two gunshots were heard and the two Guards holding them captive fell, behind them stood the Pontmercy boy, he tossed the two pistols away and helped Courfeyrac up.
"Good grief, for a moment there I thought I'd have died!" Courfeyrac said as his friend mutely helped him up on his feet, Gavroche on the other hand rushed off.

Courfeyrac went to Jehan, his lip was cut and a bruise on his cheek, he placed a hand on the poet's hardening belly and sighed.
'Joly, have you checked his dilation?" he asked Joly bodded, "His progress is slow, he is only two centimeters."

[Kazda]

Jehan whimpered as Joly inspected him. "I don't know, a few...minutes, sometimes less." They didn't feel regular. Sometimes he would get rest, but other times one contraction seemed to bleed into the next, twisting his stomach into knot after knot. He thought he heard Courfeyrac's voice amid the chaos, crying for help, and he rolled half onto one side. Between the smoke and the lines of defense breaking, Jehan could not make sense of the scene. He turned pale, and looked away, when he saw the body of one of his friends fall and hit the ground. He gave a gasping sob, unable to be quieted until Courfeyrac returned to his side.

"You're hurt," Jehan said anxiously, taking Courfeyrac's face in his hands. Under Courfeyrac's touch, his stomach tightened again, and the poet's hands went to Courfeyrac's shoulders, squeezing them, head falling back with a frustrated cry. "It can't be two," he gasped through the pain. "They hurt too badly to only be two." He knew what two meant, but it didn't make sense to him, the contractions as strong and fast as they were. "Is something wrong?"

[TheDyingDay]

Joly frowned, he checked Jehan and pressed in on Jehan's belly to feel something, his eyes widened, "Courfeyrac, you're having three children." he whispered, Courfeyrac paled, "W-will he be fine?" he asked as he looked at his labouring lover.
"I'm not sure, let's just hope that he'll pull through." Joly muttered as he went back to Jehan.

[Kazda]

Jehan grimaced as Joly pressed on his tight stomach. It hurt, and he didn't know what Joly was doing, what he was looking for, and Joly didn't tell him. He went to straight to Courfeyrac. He watched them through eyes clouded with pain, hair clinging to his face and cheeks, his shirt damp and sticking to his skin, even though he was doing nothing but waiting, fighting his way through each pain. "What are you whispering about?" he demanded, fear soaking his voice. "I deserve to know."

[TheDyingDay]

Courfeyrac looked at Joly, the malade imaginaire shook his head, "I'll tell him Courfeyrac, you go and call for Combeferre and Boussuet, we need to move him indoors." Joly said as Courfeyrac ran towards the tavern. Joly knelt down beside Jehan and placed his hand on Jehan's stomach, "Don't be frightened or worried or alarmed, but you're not having one child, you're having three." he said as he placed Jehan's hands on the spots where he felt the heads of the three little ones.

[Kazda]

Jehan's mouth fell open. "Three..?" He clearly did not take Joly's advice, fear running through his veins. He knew the odds of him birthing a single child were poor. So many with better hips and stronger bodies than his own had died in childbed, unable to get the babies from their bodies. But here he was, expecting to do it three times in a single night. And Courfeyrac, the man he was supposed to be doing this with, could die at any moment during this battle, and leave him alone. He felt his children in his own belly and that pushed him over the edge, as he began to cry. "I can't. I can't--" Jehan screamed more in frustration and fear than in pain through the next contraction.

[TheDyingDay]

Joly shushed him, "It won't do good if you were to panic, we will keep you safe as much as we can." Joly whispered when he heard Combeferre's and Boussuet's footsteps., Boussuet's eyes widened when he saw Jehan, "I thought you were supposed to be out and safe by now." he whispered as he and Combeferre helped him up.