(CW: Male pregnancy and pain)

  Life is fragile. Shieldy knows this much. He lives life for the fun of it, almost too carefree and happy. Dangerous stunts aren't a problem. Spontaneous decisions make up his daily life.

  Yet deep down, in the back of his mind, he knows life is fragile. He knows someone could get hurt. He knows consequences exist. But that underlying thought shouldn't stop him from living the way he wants to. He's still a kid, just wanting to have fun.

  But as Party Hat lies in the hospital bed, breathing silently, Shieldy is again reminded of how fragile everything is. How fragile Party Hat is. How anything that happened to Party Hat would have a devastating effect on their baby.

  For nine months, everyone was extra careful around Party Hat. Recovery is a miracle. It's why Shieldy can afford to be so reckless in the first place. But an unborn baby isn't valid for recovery.

  Party Hat being made out of paper made it even worse. Everything was suddenly dangerous, and Shieldy couldn't deal with it for a while. It was...frustrating. Party Hat is his first choice to do stupid things with. He spent a lot of time pestering other people to hang out with him.

  And it still got worse. Party Hat had to be hospitalized early into the pregnancy because moving around hurt him. The baby's weight put too much pressure on his fragile body. He's been bedridden for nearly five months.

  Shieldy remembers his shouts of pain whenever he got up. He remembers his labored face and heavy breathing. He remembers Party Hat insisting he's fine, before Shelly convinced him to go to a hospital.

  He's grateful Shelly was willing to be their at-home doctor, even while she had a job. She worked like a true professional, and being able to monitor Party Hat every day helped them catch problems early, or eased the parents' minds to know another day had gone by without trouble. He has to thank her again.

  Shieldy stares. It's not as sad now, Party Hat is sleeping normally, and not hooked up to four different machines. The bump isn't that big on his body, but Shieldy can't be fooled. It's nearly time.

  In a few days, maybe a week, Party Hat would finally go into labor. Shieldy's been struggling with this thought for some time. It's going to be the most dangerous part of the pregnancy. Party Hat could easily tear, easily die, and their daughter would never see daylight.

  At the same time, it's their daughter. First-time parenting is really a wonder. He can't help the surge of protectiveness when he thinks about her. He and Party Hat will teach her everything they know. How to be kind, how to enjoy life, how to make the most out of everything...and the list goes on and on.

  But Shieldy worries. He worries that he'll never get to see her open her eyes. That it'll put too much strain on Party Hat. That she might grow up with the wrong people. He doesn't think he's worried so much in his entire life.

  Seeing Party Hat is helping him, though. After nine months of struggle, more so than Shieldy has dealt with, he's still able to sleep peacefully. In truth, Party Hat is the strongest person Shieldy knows. Having such a fragile body is certainly the work of irony.

  He's selfless. A great companion. Compassionate. Loyal. He knows how to have fun. He doesn't let things get him down for long. He's clever and witty. Resourceful. Shieldy could never ask for a better best friend or lover.

  And watching Party Hat like this soothes Shieldy. Because whatever happens, they can handle it. If Party Hat can be so calm and peaceful, so can Shieldy.

  He's sure Party Hat is worrying as much as he is, he's just better at keeping it under control. Enough to not be constantly whining, but still leaving room for openness and vulnerability.

  Shieldy leans over to kiss Party Hat's forehead, and eases back down to lay his head on the edge of the bed. With his arms folded in front of him, Shieldy closes his eyes and sleeps.