My week continued on strange after missing counselling. Hendrix and I, following our short exchange on Monday morning, haven't spoke since. I'd half hoped I'd see him walking to Miss Harry's office, but of course not. So, I didn't take myself there either, and proceeded the day slightly downtrodden. After school on Thursday, I return to an empty home.

I imagine that my parents are at work, and Oli and Ezra must've taken the day out. So, in my pyjamas, I curl up on the sofa with a big bar of chocolate and a movie on the TV screen. Bliss, pure bliss.

Only, I'm interrupted. The door opens and I crane my head to view who enters. Ferne, much to my surprise. "Hey you!" She calls out. I pause my movie and sidle over to her, gleaming as I take her into a hug, an awkward one, thanks to her bump which is now absolutely huge.

"I wasn't expecting you." I tell her through a grin. She takes off her shoes, struggling greatly, so I offer a hand for her to use for support. "Do you want to sit?" I ask her.

She shakes her head emphatically, her dark hair swishing around her. "I've spent half of today trying to get up. I'll stand." I laugh, the pair of us walking into the kitchen where I proceed to make the pair of us a cup of tea. Decaf, for the baby of course. "I came to visit; where is everyone?"

"The 'rents are still working. Oli and Ezra must've gone out. I haven't seen them since I got home." I smile at her, offering her the biscuit tin, her eyes lighting up as she dives her hand in. She's had a sweet tooth this entire pregnancy, abnormal for her, because Ferne has a known preference to all things savoury. "It's just me, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I don't mind. I've missed you little squirt." I roll my eyes at the nickname. Ferne is ten years older that me, so I've always been a baby in her eyes, desperate to catch up despite it being unachievable. I was the annoying little sister that always wanted to be involved in her sleepovers, wanted to do makeup and paint nails and go out when she did.

"How's Roman?" I ask, dunking a biscuit in my tea.

"Yeah, good," she answers, with her mouth stuffed. "Busy with work, but what's new?" I smile at her softly, not ignorant to the hint of bitterness in her tone. It's one thing she's always hated, how Roman is so completed absorbed by work. He's a lawyer, and while it's a fabulous job to have, it means he's away from Ferne more than she cares for. I imagine she's particularly concerned now, what with the baby on the way. She's had to take extra maternity leave because he only plans to take two weeks.

"And how's little pea?" I continue, nodding to her bump.

She pats it delicately, then smiles. "Pea's good. Still today, to say they're usually a squirmer." Just as her sentence finishes, she winces, holding her breath as she places a bracing hand to the side of her bump. "I've had Braxton-hicks all day today, it's been a nightmare."

I raise a brow to her in question. "Braxton what's?"

"Fake contractions." She answers, the look of pain having completely disappeared now as she plunges her hand into the biscuits again, forgotten to the moment before. "They feel more intense than usual though."

"Is that a bad thing?" She shrugs.

"I've had them a lot. We were really worried in the beginning because we didn't understand what they were but –" she seizes up again, bracing her bump with both hands as she inhales sharply, holding it for at least a couple seconds before she exhales heavy, breathing staggered.

"Ferne are you sure they're normal?" I inquire, walking around to stand beside her. I recoil slightly, at the sight of her soiled jeans. "Shit! Ferne, your waters!"

She braces herself slightly on the bar stool, holding her stomach as she continues to breath deep and heavy. "No, can't be. I'm not due for another three weeks." She tells me.

I look at her bewildered. "Well unless you've pissed yourself Ferne, I don't think there is another explanation as to why you're wet through." She glares at me, but her daggers are quick to diminish, overcome by another look of pain as she crouches with a groan.

"Okay," she concedes after her contraction has passed. "Okay, it's coming."

"What do I do?" I ask frantically, hopping around like a maniac. Why, oh why, did she have to go into labour here? Talk about fucking bad luck.

"Calling an ambulance might be a good start." She snaps, wrapping an arm around her stomach. "In fact, scratch that. Call mum. This kid's coming right now." She tells me.

"Right now, right now?" I ask incredulously.

She glares again. "No, tomorrow!" She cries out, fumbling with the waist band of my jeans.

"They can't come now! We're not in a hospital." I inform her unnecessarily.

"Oh, really? Well I'll just tell them to hang on, shall I?" She shouts at me. If she wasn't red in the face, I'd laugh, but right now, I'm feeling nothing more than mortified. We're about to have a premature baby, in my house, on the floor, with blood and goo and stuff.

"God, I'm going to be sick." I mumble as she faces another contraction.

"Call mum! And get me some towels!" She screeches. Flustered, I dash upstairs, calling my mum on the way. I grab an armful of towels and wait for her voice to chime down the line, but nothing but her voicemail reaches me.

"Shit, shit, shit." I mutter. I try call dad, but nothing. I call Ezra and Oli. Nothing. "Fuck!" I'm going to have to call an ambulance and have them talk me through how to birth a baby. I'm going to have to birth my niece or nephew. Oh my god I think I might faint.

I don't bother trying to call my friends. Nat is half an hour away and totally squeamish. Collins is at cricket practice, so I don't doubt his phone is off. Lena is currently on a plane to the Philippines to visit her sick grandma, and Seb would be about as much use as a brick window.

It's down to me, isn't it?

Ferne screams my name out from downstairs and I panic, a wave of nausea coming over me that I can hardly push aside. I can't do this on my own. I don't know anything about babies. I don't have children. I look through my phone, desperate for a lifeline, then I find one.

"Come on, come on."

"Osborne, I told you not to annoy me for a week." Hendrix says tiredly.

"Hendrix! Is Tanya home?" I ask frantically.

Seemingly sensing the worry in my tone, he answers far more sincerely. "Yeah. Why?"

"My sister is in labour and the baby is coming and no one is home and there is totally going to be blood all over the kitchen floor and – oh god, I'm really going to be sick." I hurry out, slumping myself against the wall as nausea hits me again.

"Alright, we'll be ten minutes. Get on the phone to an ambulance and we'll come as quick as we can, alright?" He tells me calmly. I nod, despite knowing he can't see me. "Hey, Charlotte? It's going to be alright, okay? I promise." He leaves following a quick goodbye and I hurry downstairs, dialling emergency services as I do.

Ferne is slumped on the floor, her pants off, and I cover her in a towel to preserve her modesty. Though, considering the way her face is twisted in agony, I doubt that the first think on her mind is how she's flashing her sister.

"Hello? Yes, my sister is in labour and I don't know what to do." I say to the woman who answers.

"Okay, try not to worry. I'm going to dispatch an ambulance. How is mum doing? Is this her first birth?"

"Well, she's screaming. But that's normal, right, considering she's about to push something the size of a pot roast out of her vagina. And yeah, this is her first baby." I say quickly, rubbing Ferne's shin in a miserable attempt to soothe her.

"Okay, and what's your name?" She asks me softly.

"I'm Charlotte, her sister." I tell her hurriedly, wincing when Ferne cries out in agony again.

"Okay Charlotte, I'm Amanda and I'm going to stay on the phone with you until our responders reach you. Now, I need you to tell me if you can see anything." Reluctantly, I lift the towel and peer down at my sisters private region.

"There is something there, oh my god it's huge, Ferne how the fuck are you doing this?" I gag slightly at the sight, reaching out to take her hand in comfort. She crushes my bones. Good job an ambulance is on the way.

"Okay, if the baby is crowning, mum is going to need to push okay? Charlotte, I need you to help her do that. She needs to push during contractions, as hard as she can." Amanda tells me.

"Ferne, the woman says you need to push during contractions. They're going to get here as soon as possible but until then it's just me and you, alright? You're doing really well." I tell her. Ferne whimpers, bracing herself on her forearms as another contraction begins, her face red as she tries to push this child from her body.

Oh my god, this is horrifying. I'm definitely getting sterilised.

"Charlotte, the ambulance is just under ten minutes away, you're doing fantastic. Can you tell me what's going on?" The woman urges.

"She's pushing but nothing happening. Shouldn't it be coming out?" I ask her frantically. I'm very aware I'm shaking now, really fucking shaking. I'm petrified. She's doing this with no pain relief, and her midwife is a seventeen year old without a single fucking clue. "Why isn't anything happening?" I yelp down the phone.

"Charlotte, try not to panic alright? First births can be long. You're doing fantastically, I just need you to keep mum calm and offer her help the best you can, alright?" She tells me, her tone soft yet demanding.

Just as I'm about to tell this woman I certainly can not do that, two people burst through the door. Tanya and Hendrix.

I nearly sob at the sight, thanking the Lord above that I'm no longer alone. "My friend is here now; she's going to help me. She's got a kid; she knows about this stuff." I tell Amanda.

"Okay that's perfect. Do you want to pass the phone to your friend?" I barely hear the end of her sentence, thrusting the phone to Tanya, my whole body shaking with trepidation. I scurry towards Ferne's head, supporting her in my arms as Tanya sits herself between her legs.

"Tanya, yeah. Right, okay. Well she's definitely crowning, but I can't tell if she's dilated enough. No, she's torn already." I gag. She's torn. What the fuck does that mean? She's not a piece of paper.

"Where the fuck are the paramedics?" I cry out, framing my face with shaky hands. "She's prem, she needs a doctor!" I tell no one in particular, the fear quick escalating in my shrill voice.

"Charlie," Ferne turns to me, grasping my hand. "Please shut the fuck up." I choke out a laugh, sobbing between. "My body knows what it's doing. Get my phone. Call Roman." She instructs me. I nod erratically, not even paying attention to how with a child practically hanging out of her, she's still in charge.

I rush off to the foyer, rummaging through her bag. I hardly can though, what with my hands still shaking at a hundred miles an hour. A soft hand finds my shoulder and I look up, met with green eyes that I'm so fucking pleased to see. He helps me look through my sisters bag, with my go ahead of course, and he finds the phone before I do.

I take it from him and when, as expected, Roman doesn't answer, I text him. "Charlotte, you're shaking." Elijah points out. I look at him, completely terrified.

"She's not even due yet. What if somethings wrong? What if it's stuck? I've been making her push when she's not even dilated, what if I've done something wrong?" I choke out, my trembling hands slapping over my mouth. He says nothing, just pulls me into an embrace, stroking my hair and my back to calm me.

"Lottie, it'll all be fine, alright?" He tries to assure me, planting a soft kiss on my head. I nod, though I'm not entirely sure I believe him, and bury my face into his chest. "Look, ambulance." I jump away from him and turn to the door. Four paramedics barrel inside, one of them stopping to talk to me.

"You're the sister?" He says to me. I nod. "We're going to take over. Do you want to stay?" He asks.

"Only if you want to perform a resuscitation when I die from watching." I tell him plainly, though my voice still shakes.

"Okay. But stay close. We'll find you as soon as we have a baby." He tells me with a smile before following his colleagues to where my sister in yelling out in the kitchen. Tanya leaves not long after, smiling at me as she does.

"Can I use your bathroom?" She asks, lifting her hands which are covered in all sorts that I'd rather not specify. I gip, clamping my hands to my mouth before I tumble out into the garden and empty my stomach into my mothers flower bed.

This is grossest, most stressful, amazing day of my life.

~~~

A/N - honestly writing this book is my favourite thing, I've been dying to get to this chapter for so long because I know this is exactly how I would be, I just love Charlotte