Medical Center.
VIP Maternity Ward.
"So, how much longer is this gonna take?"
Rachel wasn't happy. 😣
"No one can say for sure. Just hang in there, okay?"
Dr. Montgomery finished up, gave a few instructions, and headed out.
"Adam."
Ross tugged at Adam's sleeve.
"What's up?"
Adam raised an eyebrow, curious.
"That trick you mentioned before… does it still work now?"
Ross whispered sneakily.
"…"
Adam's mouth twitched. He shot Ross a look like he was some kind of weirdo. 😒
"I'm just asking!"
Ross stammered awkwardly. "You know Rachel wants this baby out ASAP, and I'm only trying to help her… Can you not look at me like that?"
"You're a freaking university professor!"
Adam scoffed. "I only suggested that method back when her due date came and nothing was happening. It was a last resort to kick things off.
But now? Dude, her water's broken, her cervix is at 2 centimeters, and your daughter Emma's coming soon. You're officially useless at this point. That old trick? Out of the question.
Otherwise, it'd be like you're poking Emma with a needle.
Emmm… not that you could even reach her in your state.
But seriously, you shouldn't even think about stuff like that.
That's straight-up twisted.
If anyone finds out you had this idea, they'll 100% think you're a total creep!"
"…"
Ross stood there, fuming, as everyone stared at him like he was a pervert.
"C'mon, keep it down!" Ross muttered, mortified. "You don't have to yell it!"
"They're first-time parents, just married, and a little too lovey-dovey," Adam explained to Liz, the only outsider in the room, with a straight face. "He's really not a pervert."
"Totally get it," Liz said, her lips twitching like she was holding back a laugh.
"Oh my God, Ross!"
His little sister Monica couldn't help but chime in. "No wonder Mom could barely talk about your dates with those bar girls last time. What the heck have you been up to these past few years since you and Rachel split? What's going on in that head of yours?"
Chandler, Phoebe, and Joey all turned to Ross, shaking their heads in unison.
"I didn't do anything!"
Ross was beyond exasperated, ready to slap himself silly.
Why the hell did I even ask that?! 😤
"Maybe lay off the Discovery Channel for a bit," Phoebe said with a knowing grin. "Sure, animals get wild, but we're still human, y'know."
Ross loved the Discovery Channel—nature, biology, all that jazz. Like that time he tried cheering up a stressed-out Rachel, past her due date with no action, by mentioning how male seahorses carry the babies. Super clever, right?
"Yeah, Ross," Joey piped up, suddenly the wise guy. "Good guys know how to be gentle."
"…"
Ross was done talking.
"Alright, let's head out and wait," Adam said with a chuckle. "Ross, you stay with Rachel. Keep an eye on her—if anything feels off, call the nurses right away."
"Fine," Ross grumbled, throwing Adam a glare.
"Oh, and just watch her—no funny ideas…"
Adam added with a smirk, dodging as Ross lunged at him, laughing as he bolted.
An hour later, Rachel's cervix was only at 3 centimeters—still a long way from the 10 needed for delivery. No surprise there. This was gonna be a marathon.
Noon. Cafeteria.
"Hey, where's Chandler and Monica?" Phoebe asked, curious.
Adam sat down with his tray and grinned. "Think about it. Right now, in this setting—what do you reckon Monica and Chandler are dying to do?"
"Oh!"
Phoebe paused, then burst out laughing. "You mean… make a baby?" 😏
Adam nodded, still grinning.
"Here? Wow!"
Phoebe's eyes sparkled. "That's so thrilling!"
"The beds here are all sanitized," Adam said. "Perfect for Monica and her germaphobe vibes. Plus, we're already in a hospital. With Rachel giving birth as inspiration, Monica's probably going extra wild today. She can wear Chandler out completely—no worries, they're already at the hospital if anything goes wrong!"
"Hahaha!"
Phoebe cracked up, laughing nonstop.
"What about Joey?" Adam glanced around.
Phoebe mimicked his tone. "That young doctor in charge of Rachel? Pretty, great figure… What do you think?" 😉
"Joey never learns," Adam said, shaking his head. "How about you? How've you been?"
"Eh, same old," Phoebe shrugged. "Not great, not terrible… Oh, whoa!"
Her eyes lit up as she spotted someone, jumping up and dashing off with a quick, "See ya!"
Adam followed her gaze and saw a hot guy in a cast being wheeled by a nurse.
Emmm. Phoebe's still got that young-at-heart vibe.
After lunch, Adam headed to the ER. Rachel's delivery could take forever—he wasn't about to waste time just sitting around. He stayed busy until evening.
By then, Rachel's cervix had only reached 5 centimeters.
"Looks like we're waiting 'til morning," Adam told the gang. "You guys wanna head home and rest, or should I find you some beds here?"
"Home!"
"Here!"
Chandler's weak legs and Monica's hyped-up energy gave totally opposite answers.
"We're staying," Monica declared, shutting down Chandler's lazy escape plan.
"We've already taken time off," Joey and Phoebe added. "Might as well stick around."
But their sneaky glances gave away their real motives.
Adam didn't push it and got them rooms.
The night passed quietly.
Next Morning. Early Shift.
With a sharp cry from Rachel, after 21 grueling hours, her cervix finally hit 10 centimeters. Showtime!
In the original timeline, Rachel's baby was breech—Emma's butt down, making natural birth a nightmare. Leonard, maybe out of spite or whatever, didn't step up much, and Rachel's delivery turned dangerous.
But this time? Adam bridged the gap between Rachel and her dad, Leonard. Their relationship was way better than before, and they kept in touch. Rachel got all her prenatal checkups at the medical center. When Emma hit eight months and settled breech, Adam and Leonard jumped on it, using every trick in the book to flip her into position.
So, this time around, Rachel was still in screaming agony, but it didn't drag on forever. After nearly yanking Ross over for a beatdown during labor, she finally delivered Emma smoothly.
Afterward, everyone agreed Ross had it coming.
"Your wife's over there screaming her lungs out, accidentally bumps your head, and you've got the nerve to rub your forehead and say, 'Ow, nothing hurts worse than this!'?"
Lucky for him, Rachel was stuck in the bed and too nice to do much. Anyone feistier would've paused mid-labor, dragged him over, and wailed, "Hurts, huh? How's this for pain?!" while smacking him silly.
Pain's graded scientifically: 0-4. Level 4 is severe, constant agony with blood pressure and pulse spikes. Childbirth? Peak Level 4.
Folk tales rank pain 1-12—mosquito bites at 1, childbirth at 12. That nonsense about a laboring mom getting bit by a mosquito for a "1+12=13" pain level? Total garbage. In the face of delivery pain, a mosquito bite doesn't add up—it's just drowned out. You don't even feel it.
belamy20