#the nurse asked me if I could be pregnant right after going and reviewing my chart

[theforesteldritch]

Explaining to doctors and health care workers that if I’m pregnant, it’ll be with Jesus 2.0 or something, now even more impossible! My friend I do not have the internal organs needed for that, I’d be like the Virgin Mary but intersex.

[makahimetenshi]

Follow me inside the wastelands -  Chapter 27  -Arthur Maxson x Female Sole Survivor Fanfic

Hello to the ten maybe twenty people who keeps reading this fic 26 chapters later…its funny because I don’t see you in the numbers but I see you when I make an update. Which makes me wonder where the hell are the 60 people of chapter two, maybe in the middle of the road…and it’s a long road

If you are very very very delighted with one fic and want a continuation I didn’t write or post you can donate me at least $5 bucks, most of this fics have next chapters I don’t finish because lack of motivation but hey a $5 is a $5, I see a few reviews and comments that fics that are abandoned months laters receive comments of wanting to know what happens next. Here it is, I finished my handling with you all, enjoy the fic

Maccready keep writing letters for the Elder Maxson, giving him as much information he could “Be ready for everything at any moment” was the thing that craved on his mind after Reading it 500 times. Arthur was so stressed he wanted to cry all the time, cry and punch things, he started drinking more and more because he felt like needing something all the time, of course what he needed was his pregnant woman and his baby, there was no way to calm the absence.

One day he received a package from the mercenary, it wasn’t exactly a letter, it was a holotape with information, a medical report and…the signs of the report says vault 111. It was Noras vault…the mercenary could be a killer but was a good fella and keep his word, so…she may be there or she is there right now…in the moment he read that his chest started to go up and down in anxiety, should he go out there? Take Nora from the vault by force? Pull her out to the Prydwen? He was suffering so much this loneliness…

The report says that…she was okay…according with what Cade teach him, this numbers were…fine…knowing that his baby was okay really put him in ease, she knew what she was doing despite all, despite making him suffer like this. So…she was there…locked on a tomb by herself.  Their son will born trapped in a vault…but at least with good, spotless, pure, and sanitized medical equipment, didn’t Nora had a nurse robot also? He meet the robot at the party in Sactuary…oh remembering that place make his head hurt, everything started to go downhill there

Why Maccready revelead this information to him? Sure he don’t expect the ignorant mercenary of the Commonwealth to know how to write or change information of a terminal file, maybe he just take out the holotape and it’s the better he can do but there must be something else, the location was there for some reason. Should he send his spy there? It was extremely difficult to break into a vault and Nora will be extra careful about this subject to even let him have the chance to break inside…

For now…he will wait…the wait will be over soon after all, they expend most of the pregnancy apart from each other, the best months she push him away, at least he secured her during the first two months as much he could.

But one day one month later…

Preston Garvey and a bunch of mercenarys around a caravan appeared in front of the Boston Airport. That man and Maccready were recently authorized to be escorted directly to the command deck in the Prydwen without asking but when the elder was informed that the minutemen was carrying a crying baby…he run to the deck and wait for the ventibird to go up and land. Heart pounding, feeling like almost vomiting of anxiety, needing to hold himself to the bars feeling his knees failing. Ohmygodohmygod this was the day.

He was prepared since Maccready give him that letter, super mentalized but still he was today…meeting his baby.

Wait why Nora wasn’t with him? The realization made his heart ache.

The ventibird went up and settled in the landing port, a man quickly came out with a bundle in his arms, a bundle that was crying loud and strong. The elders heart stopped as he went closer meeting with Preston eyes, the man immediately give him the bundle of blankets opening his arms and Arthur pick him like…he knew…he never hold a baby before and this wasn’t the best place to learn but it felt correct to want to have it on his arms, it was a need.

He moved away a bit from the wind and air forces that the helicopter blades do, going to the center of the flight port, walking back into the zeppelin as Preston followed him, there was a lot of noise and chaos around but his eyes can only focus on…the crying baby squirming and moving on his arms.

It was a pink and very small newborn strangely chubby but it looked so healthy and fine. Once the Paladin in power armor guarding the entrance open the door both men went inside, hearing more clearly the crying and screams of the scared baby. The sounds resonate all over the zeppelin and the first ones to come and give a visit were the scribes and Lancer Kells, the first people when you enter into the Prydwen.

The people down there at the control port went up the steps to meet the elder and the general, not wanting to say much since it was a sensitive subject, all this family pregnancy thing with the sentinel was a sensitive theme of conversation but it just felt correct to congratulate the elder of the brotherhood for his first newborn.

-Ad Victoriam Elder Maxson –just said all in chorus, nothing more, no congratulations, no what a cute baby, no questions, nothing, just say that and leave down back to work, not wanting to get in trouble for sneaking their noses into the elder troubled business

Preston looked strangely at it, Arthur just raise up the head to nod not sure if in agreement or gratitude he surely wasn’t paying attention and look back at his baby, starting to move his arms thinking it would calm it, walking slowly to the command deck. The man stood in front of the view of the Commonwealth, all the fight led him to Nora, and all this horrible months led him to this baby, it was worth it.

Preston hold a little paper to Arthur, who take his time to take off the eyes of the baby and try to catch it with his hand still holding the blankets- It’s a girl –said the minutemen.

“Her name is Arya. Arthur+Nora” said the note written in the perfect Noras calligraphy. He was able to read it with her voice even with the babys crying around.

Now, in a more quiet place without all the chaos of the ventibird he see that the baby had the blankets he send a month and half ago.

-Wheres Nora? –ask Arthur unconsciously, in any of this days he take the time to try to imagine what future after the baby was born  they will have, or how events will develop because it will only hurt him, thinking on something that changes constantly for worse.

-Fine, I was with her the whole time and the birth went all fine

-But where is she? –one of his hands move to the babys cheek, placing the side of his fingers against it, ohmygosh it was so soft.

-Still in Sactuary

-Recovering? Was it difficult? –the crying was stopping slowly thank god. For some reason he felt so relieved

-Not exactly, she is preparing some stuff –Preston take a holotape from his coat and leave it on the small table, calling Arthurs attention while he was still shushing the baby

He stood there, frozen, unable to move or think at all when he saw her light blue eyes between her crying eyelids, it had his same color, the crying starting ago take him out of his trance and he reacted to shush the baby again, calming her.

-Stuff like what?

-Even I don’t have that many details

-She is not planning to stay around? –ask the elder shocked, was she going to abandon their daughter with him?

-She gave me Arya, the note, the holotape and said “take her to Arthur immediately, tell him to listen the holotape in a moment of peace” and I did what I was told…she was born in the early morning so we spent most of the morning and noon walking here. I left her under Curies cares

Idiot, how can he leave the other general in such a vulnerable situation under the care of a robot?

-I can believe it, how can you know she isn’t dead by now? –ohgoshnodontthinkonthatnoraisstrong

-She isn’t, you will see her around wandering the commonwealth in a few weeks maybe –he place the baby against his shoulder, caressing her back, she was becoming quiet

-Wait she has to nurse her and…-Preston look at him sad and Arthur felt his feets heavy- you gotta be kidding me

-I cant talk for her but…she gave me Arya immediately like it was something I needed to deliver fast –she wouldn’t be with her?- we were talking this days and…she said it was your daughter, never wanting to talk about her like her mother –Arthurs hand moved to the baby head to secure it, caressing lightly, do in it almost automatically, unable to think straight

-She cant do this, this is not going to last, she is going to come back like other times, this is her daughter –he said confused, moving in circles.

-You were the one searching for her elder- that make Maxson stop in his place, annoyed, crossing his eyebrows, but it was true- Nora is still to attached…to his dead son Shaun.

That motherfucker? There’s no way she was leaving her daughter behind for that killer. A ball of tangled strings appeared on his chest, this baby right in his arms was so pure and beautiful to be leaved behind because she still had fellings for that monster…there was no point of comparison between them.

-I can’t believe this –he said feeling the chest compressed in pain and angust, how can despise their child together for that monster that kidnapped so many people even in the years he was leader? Unveliable.

-I know its not your fault elder –said Preston feeling a bit of grief for him- its her who is too damaged to fix –why does everybody sees it except her!?- I can only say…hear the holotape alone and at peace…

-Did you hear it? –ask Maxson feeling his eyes and nose watering trying not to cry in front of someone he didn't know that well

-Of course not –said Preston- but I know she is doing things wrong –it wasn’t enough, the lame and pity of everybody wasn’t enough

-This is fucked up from her –the minutemen stand in silence, Arthur take a moment to leave a kiss in her forehead when she started to only squirm comfortable in his arms and then look at Preston- did you travel all the way here in the sun?

-She was covered the entire time and we avoid zones with radiation, that’s why it took us longer to arrive –his face turn red of anger, walking in circles in front of the window.

-Stupid, she could just call for a signal to pick you up if she didn’t wanted to come here -she had the authority for that and still make the baby cross the entire commonwealth to arrive in his fathers arms

-I swear we came as fast as possible elder

-Because she wanted to get rid of her! –in a moment he raised his voice more than he wanted, but stopped, because he felt the baby shock and surprise, quickly he caresses her head again to no alarm her. Oh man he had so much stuff to think off, surely Cade knows how to replace her mothers milk and heat

-The way Nora acts it’s a mistery even for me sometimes, im the first human alive that know her the longest and…sometimes its difficult to understand her

-What do you mean? –first human? Arthur supposed the first robot was Codsworth

-Well I know she let the synth copy of his son die when the institute blow up –Preston saw the surprise in the  elders face and turn his head down- I spoke too much

-no –he demanded- I want to understand better

-Im not turning down on her, she is our general

-I know she was the leader of raiders gangs in the commonwealth –now he catches the minuteman attention, who bite his cheeks in the insides.

-Im loyal, we work together, she does amazing but…its okay if there’s things you can’t forgive –the man close his fits, looking elsewhere.

-If she abandons Arya I will never forgive her –said Maxson full of resentment holding the baby a bit tighter, it was one thing having traumas and shitty attitudes towards him but their daughter wasn’t guilty of anything.

-There was a time she gave her back to four settlements in the commonwealth…to give them to some raiders gangs…she gave her back to me and the justice we were applying on the commonwealth, I never understand why she did it and never fixed it neither, im never forgetting the owners of that houses, the families that lived there, the settlers that stablished there expecting a better new life –Nora had a lot of dark sides, and Arthur can see that this subject…really hurt him, he gets it, it was like having a soldier go against the brotherhood beliefs…it was like when she say he loved Danse despite being a synth. Not being able to see his true nature, only a machine.

-How much do you know about Shaun? Noras son –ask the elder-

-Glimpses honestly, not much, but until destroying the institute by her own she asked  the minutemen first for help so I follow some of that story…

-Why is a mystery that she killed the synth copy? After all it wasn’t the real one

-Are you kidding? Nora kill on rampages for that kid, if that was the last of her son she should keep it after wanting it so much

-Its a synth Preston -oh gosh not now, he didn’t have any interest for this kind of conversations, his baby was far more important, who was doing the most adorable sounds

-You know as well as me that Nora has a lot of synth friends -even a love interest back then.

-Maybe something about her son change along the way -the minuteman raised his eyebrow in surprise.

-You know something, mind to tell me?

-No -Maxson flip his back to Preston who only sighted in discomfort

-Alright

-When should I...see her around? -why does he keeps caring? he felt so horrible about not being the 3 together and still worries.

-I don't know, this last days she was repairing her X-01 Nuka Quantum but i don't know the reason-both stay in silence for a few moments-just listen the holotape elder.

-I can’t believe she didn't even breastfeed her -he stood in silence, moving a bit the arms to look at his babys face, take some time to appreciate it and hug her -Thank you for coming Preston, a ventibird will send you home

Both say goodbye, Arthur give the order to take the general to Sanctuary, maybe to take care of Nora or not, depending if she wanted any help

The first thing he did was taking the baby almost running for Cades nursery, every soldier could see the elder running with a budget of blankets that moves and do sounds so the rumors will spread fast but who cares his baby needed attention quickly

-Was she breastfeed? -ask the man pulling slightly the blankets off

-I don't believe so -the expression in Cade turned dark, but still he pulls out the stethoscope to hear her heart and breathing, picking one of her small hands gosh he forgot to do that! -can you ask the other chapters for supplys?

-Yes? what does she need? -he panicked.

-Formula and vitamins, if she isn't going to receive her mother’s milk better replace it with something -Cade take a look at her mouth, opening it lightly -mothers milk has a lot of grease that will quickly help her to get big and fat to keep warm, altought now she is pretty chubby.

-Noras genetics were naturally like this, she was only skinny now

-Also diapers and a lot of antibiotics, babys develops a lot of fevers, you need to pay attention to that from now on -Arthur nooded as Cade leave the stethoscope a side to pic a thermometer- are you going to take care of her? -the question almost boil the mans blood

-Of course -he said pressing his teeth in fury

-Not like that, im asking if you need help from the nurses, there's a few mothers with experience here in the Prydwen -Cade look down on his chubby job, working with the thermometer

The question put him in blank. Didnt know, he should not replace her mother so fast...but she needed someone with experience...he seriously counted on Nora guiding him. He feeled ready to do this alone but no...qualified. He needed guide and instruction. But definitely wasn't ready to bond with nobody.

-I guess i could use some...maternity documents...-he said lost, feeling fool for not thinking in this possibility before...it was right...he had nobody...Arya and him were alone. Surrounded by brotherhood brothers and sisters but...alone...

-Are you sure elder? -ask Cade opening the blankets- newborns are extremely delicate, you will need the help

-Im sure if i have an emergency the nurse room will be open to help the elders daughter

Cade stay in silent until he answers.

-Of course

-Her name is Arya, Arya Maxson -the name froze Cade a bit, it was a strong name, it sounded good. And it just makes sense with her lightblue eyes. Nora didn't have a surname registered in the brotherhood and he supposed it was out of place ask for hers since this was the situation...

-Did she have her first poop yet? -the question take Arthur out of place. Cade open the infant clothes and the cloth diaper that Arthur sent to Nora just to find it..slightly wet but not dirty.

-I don’t know, i suppose she didn’t -shit right this was important. He shouldn’t be in this situation, he had his woman, he had the mother of this baby and she just...

-Alright -Cade cover the little girl with the blankets- can you dress her elder? -as soon the man ask that Arthur run to her and started to close the diaper and the clothes, it was important he gets familiar with this -ill see with what i can jam a supply of formula and vitamins for this days, she will want to eat a lot, maybe not now but in an hour.

Did really Nora was that much of a monster to not breastfeed her? Making her travel an entire day across the commonwealth and not feed her newborn?

-Ill ask for supplies to arrive as soon as possible -said the elder getting anxious, covering a bit the babys eyes with his hand, the lights were too bright!

-She will cry, all the time -Cade warn the elder, who look at him paying all the attention in the world- cry for all things, for attention, warm, food, water, playing, discomfort, new sensations, feeling sick, need to poop or piss, everything, and will ask for food all the time too. Should i send the bottles to your quarters? or you will leave her here?

-Here? why? does she  needs it? -actually he didn’t want to be apart from his baby.

-I can give her formula by needle but its the same, i still have to prepare it and it will do the same thing than a bottle -Cade was looking at his shells, planning things

-I prefer her with me -Arthur said without thinking twice

-Very well, should we do the ADN test? -the elder raise his head and look at him with doubts- when...we knew about this situation...one of the things you asked was if we can know who the father is...i remember that well -that was indeed a hard day of work- obviously at that stage it was impossible but now she is here born so

Arthur look at the baby, look deeply in her light blue eyes for some moments.

-Sure, if it doesn’t hurt her

-Of course not -Cade said.

Why not. Now she was here after all

Supplies from the nursery were delivered into his quarters and at seeing the budge of blankets on what it was Noras side of the bed he can only think...he needs a cradle, and knows exactly were to get one. But for now he needed to improve this situation.

Arthur sat on the bed with one of the warm bottles of the supplies delivery in hand, picking her head for support and help, placing the dummy on her lips and...thank god she started slurping and sucking nicely like any baby would do, she should be hatching to her mothers  warm flesh nipple but...this was their thing now, their only option, they have to do it together like this.

Hopefully this would fill her stomach and make her want to start eating...or making poop, in any case Cade was waiting for any of her responses to examine, as this formula of his was improvised with what he had on the nursery and the kitchen of the zeppelin, Arthur already send a note asking for certain baby’s supplies like he did last time, this was a notice that his daughter with the troubled sentinel was already born, that Arthur Maxson at the eyes of every other brotherhood of steel chapter had now an heir, that Arya Maxson was finally born, the first born of Arthur and the hero of the Commonwealth Sentinel Nora.

It was unnecessary to clarify that she wasn’t here, although if he was asking for formula they will figure out sooner or later that something was wrong in the Maxson family...damn he wanted to be the Maxson family so bad but right now...the baby hatching in the bottle was his family. His beautiful baby girl.

When she finishes the bottle...she may want to poop.

Arthur hold her without interrupting the bottle, looking at her rounded cheeks moving at every slurping, he walk in circles around the room looking for something in his pocket, taking out the holotape Preston give him and placing it in his terminal entry, willing to listen Noras bullshit again and again.

“Hello…Arthur “ oh hello, he thinks at hearing the recording, her voice again giving him chills all spine down “this may be the last time I greet you with this name” a sight following a  long silence were he can hear her breath “by the time im recording this im eight months pregnant with your child and I have to say…im sorry for everything I put you trough, Its not fair for you and if you are mad at me…well I deserve it…”more than mad he was all the time worried without a valid reason “I know and understand your feelings towards our child, its everything everywoman would hope of their partners but…Im still…conflictuated about my own son Shaun” why does she still  thinks over that killer? He couldn’t understand “as the older one let me give you a little piece of advice…your first son its like your first love, the love you feel is as strong as that…and you will feel it forever, im never getting rid of my feelings for Shaun…and you will experience the same with this baby” He look down at his baby daughter, gripping tighter on the blankets “I will never replace Shaun despite everything, I smash him, I let him burn…but I will always be his mother” a silence, a long silence in the tape”I lost all right to be the mother of this  child and I frankly don’t want it, I already have a son, a son I own life, if you want to tell him about me, do it, you can, but I will not be around, I still have debts to pay” pay to who? He was dead a long time before this happen “what we had was…legit and beautiful, I will always treasure the love we had for each other but I recognize I made too much damage to this relationship, you do not deserve this, the amount of traumas and pain I have and cannot leave back…our sons always come first and you will learn that sooner or later” tears started to form in the corners of his eyes hearing her”I will continue working for the brotherhood, I will continue working for you…but ill use my privileges as Sentinel to not follow direct missions and do my own in benefit and representation of the brotherhood” another silence”I know it will be hard to stay away from each other...but I don’t deserve and im no good to be around you both…you know when I realized I was alone in this new word and my old house was destroyed…I found a holotape…from Nate and Shaun when he was a baby…I would listen to that tape all nights until falling asleep…I don’t wish that for you, I don’t want to harm you like that…that’s why this holotape will automatically destroy after it finish playing for the first time” goddamn she will challenge him until the end, another silence, but he took the chance to think and concentrate, looking at the plug of the terminal on the wall, walking slowly to it”I love you…And the further away I am, the less I can hurt you, I'm sorry I can't give you the family that I made you wish…Elder Maxson has a lot of love to give…and I hope he finds someone who can receive it properly…goodbye elder…I wish you the best to you bo-“ but before the holotape plays the last seconds, he unplugged the terminal, clearly she wanted to give him the choice of keeping the tape or letting it play until it destroys…

He couldn’t let anything of her destroys forever…

Arya finished her bottle and closed her eyes, Maxson leaned down to leave a kiss on her forehead and that’s when he realized that the beard was in the way, it presses against the baby face…he should shave. He sat on the bed with the baby on arms, looking at the power-off terminal…well he needed that terminal but some scribe will have to save that holotape first…

He felt his eyes heavy with tears, sniffing, looking down on their daughter together…no…his daughter…she didn’t want to be her mom…

-Its okay –Arthur said, leaving the bottle to a side, picking her by the armpits up to place her in his shoulder- I will be forever at your side…Arya…

When the results were delivered into his quarters after a night of no sleeping at all taking care of his new baby…well he wasn’t surprised at all

Arya Maxson was indeed the legit daughter of Arthur Maxson and Sentinel Nora according to the DNA both give to the brotherhood data base.

That baby will make him change diapers and be feeded every 3 hours for the first time, alone, but he was finally a father. This child will be his new devotion and biggest admiration of the elder Maxson for the following 7 years.

Soon, everybody in the Commonwealth heard the notice of the  birth of the heir of the Prydwen.

[everlarkficexchange]

Magic as Always

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 71: Magic of Ordinary Days AU: 1940s, Katniss is a single pregnant girl. Desperate for her daughter not to have a child out of wedlock, Mrs Everdeen contacts a priest who in turn knows a young man who just may be willing to help. Sweet, kind and shy Peeta stayed home to take care of the family farm when his beloved brother went to war to never come back. He’s always wanted a family but rural small town life gives little chance to court. He hears of Katniss’ plight and graciously offers to marry her and raise the child as his own. He does everything he can think of to make a home for Katniss and the baby. How does Katniss take it? How does their relationship develop? Will they fall in love? [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: this chapter is rated Teens and Up  

Tags: Historical!AU; WWII; 1940’s Era views on marriage, sexism, pregnancy, etc; Katniss/Marvel relationship; Non-graphic Unprotected Sex; Unplanned Pregnancy; Arrange Marriage; Miscellaneous Religious views; Grief/Mourning; Canon Characters Death; OOC!Mrs.Everdeen; Somewhat OOC!Katniss; Everlark is Endgame; Other tags to be added.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this prompt. I must confess, I’ve never seen the movie ‘The Magic of Ordinary Days’ or read the book the movie is based on. I did a quick skimming on the plot of the movie and then dug up all kinds of reviews on the book, most of my plot points come from a combination of movie and book (which apparently differ only in a few parts), besides what the prompter asked for. I just really loved this prompt, and see the potential of this story, which will be a few chapters long, cross posted to AO3 and I already have a good chunk written ;) The rating will be adjusted too, because there will be explicit Everlark smut in the following chapters. Anon, I hope I don’t disappoint you, this story will be only loosely based on the source material, and adapted to fit THG characters in the narrative, I will try to stick to the main plot points as much as I can, but I’m also taking several liberties with the story. I hope you still like it though. 

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Prim died on a Tuesday, after a very long, strenuous battle with poliomyelitis. My sweet little sister’s face looked as fresh as a dew drop even in death. 

  “Come now, Katniss,” my mother calls from the open door of the mortuary hall, where visitation took place an hour ago. 

  The mortician has arranged for the coffin to be taken to the cemetery and put in the ground this afternoon. There will be no graveside mourning. It’s all we could pay for, but then again the war has left everyone penniless nowadays.

  A big, rotund man comes to close the coffin, and offers a curt nod. 

  That’s it then. The very last time I’ll ever set eyes on Primrose’s sweet face. 

  “Katniss,” Mother whispers, insistently. It’s probably all she can muster before breaking down in tears.

  I look on at the box my sister’s body lies in, numb and heartsick. I bring my 3 middle fingers to my lips and then rise them in the air. My last salute to my beloved Little Duck. I step away from the coffin and shuffle towards mother. 

  Up close, I can see the deep, dark bruises under my mother’s eyes. She used to be beautiful in her youth— according to friends and old photographs— but now she just looks tired and defeated. I guess having to bury first her husband and then her 15 year old daughter, in less than a year, would have that effect on anyone.

  Prim would’ve looked like our mother, with their soft blonde locks, almond shaped blue eyes and alabaster skin. She had a softer spirit though, she enjoyed music and loved animals. She always said that if she was older, she would’ve joined the Red Cross and signed up to serve as a nurse to our boys in the Pacific, like Father did… Father wasn’t a nurse though, he was a chaplain. 

  It’s funny to think that I inherited so much of my father, like my dark hair, gray eyes and olive skin. We both also share the same aversion to human pain and blood that moves my mother and Prim to action; but unlike Prim, my father’s calling to help the soldiers in their worst situations, passed me and went directly to my baby sister. 

  I sigh… Prim would’ve made a terrific army nurse, if only she hadn’t wasted in bed with that odious disease! If she had been given the chance to live, I’m sure Prim would’ve had so many boys trailing after her. She would marry at some point and have a beautiful full life. 

  I don’t plan on marrying and having a family. If the acute pain in my own chest wasn’t enough warning,  watching my mother walk silently from the funeral home to our apartment, with her head bowed and listening to her quiet sobs at night would be enough evidence that there’s too much sorrow in losing one’s husband and children. 

  I think my efforts will be better spent in cultivating my mind, and getting my degree in botany, like my father always dreamed, anyway… plus, I’m not much of a looker… not like Prim at any rate. 

  We finally arrived at our modest home. Mother drifts ghost-like into the door, and then we both shuffle quietly into our separate bedrooms. There won’t be a meal at the table tonight, but I make sure Prim’s old tomcat gets fed and watered, and after he meows in distress at my sister’s door, I open mine, and let him strut inside my bedroom and hop into my bed. The hideous fur ball and I distrust each other, but he understands his mistress is never coming back, and he’s the last thing I have from her… so he lets me pet him and he cuddles close to my chest as I fall asleep, crying. 

——————————-

Mother and I walk slowly through the busy streets of town, mostly ignoring the bustle and disarray around us. People shout, cars honk horns, a baby cries in the distance, and the few young men rush back and forth in the busy sidewalks, like they���re being lashed by invisible whips.

  “We should stop by the grocer and see if we can pick up some eggs.” Says my mother, pulling her “Sugar Book” out of her handbag. 

  Because of the war, everything is being rationed, from sugar to shoes.

  I could care less about food and clothing, though. But I still go into the shop, dutifully. 

  I’m so immersed in my own thoughts, I don’t see the lanky man walking towards me with his arms full of vittles. 

  We collide. The man’s groceries fly up in every direction, raining over me, as I sit on my rump on the floor. 

  My mother is nowhere to be seen. Typical.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Says the man, pulling a packet of oatmeal from the floor, while extending his other hand to help me up. 

  “No… it’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  “Well, let’s agree that we’re both klutzes, and leave it at that?” The man offers.

  I’m on my feet, dusting my skirt off and righting my blouse, “Sure, let’s do that.” I scowl at the skew state of my clothes and finally look up at the man. 

  He’s smiling down at me, and I must admit, his smile is dazzling. He’s got short brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles over his nose. He also towers above me. 

  “My stars! If it isn’t Katniss Everdeen!” The young man says, unexpectedly excited.

  I blink owlishly at him, and try to place his face, but I’m horrible at remembering people. Or their names. 

  “Marvel Quaid,” he offers genially, unfazed by my lack of response, “we went to grade school together?” He prompts, “My pa used to sell luxury goods in District One?”

  “Oh, I think it’s coming back now,” I say smiling for the first time in what feels like months. “You used to throw sticks, pretending they were spears or something,” I tell him, showing that indeed, I do remember him.

  Marvel scrunches his nose, “Javelins, actually. I was pretending I threw javelins. I saw a fellow doing it for the Olympics in a film, and then he won a medal for it. I thought to myself that making a victory lap with the good old American flag flapping after oneself looked like fun; well, I wanted to be a victor too!” He chuckles, then deflates. “But as everything, those dreams are gone now, crushed to dust under the weight of the war.”

  As is the norm, once the war gets brought up, gloominess settles on, dampening the cheeriest of spirits.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m all too familiar with the sentiment.”

  Marvel nods, grimly. 

  “We lost Father in France.” I’m not sure why I said it. “We put my sister in the ground last week, too.” I avert my eyes. 

  “Aww, geez, Kit… that’s truly awful. I’m so sorry for your loss,”

  I’m mildly surprised I don’t immediately recoil at his little pet name. I guess the fact that he doesn’t sound condescending while delivering his condolences, helps. 

  “Oh, well, as my father would’ve said, at least their toils in this world are over. They can finally rest in peace.”

  After a moment of heavy silence, Marvel shares, “I’m being shipped out tomorrow morning.”

  I scowl, “Oh,” I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering how he’d manage to evade the draft for this long? Marvel is my age, 19 going on 20… boys get sent to the front lines at 18. “I… I could write to you… if you wanted?” I offer shyly. 

  Isn’t that what young women are being told to do, in order to keep our boys’ morale from plummeting?  

  Marvel grins, showing slightly crooked teeth, “That would be swell, Kit!” He stares at me for a long moment, then sighs, “I should go back to my shopping, before they miss me at home. Lord knows when will I have the chance of doing something as mundane as picking up my mother’s weekly grocery allowance.”

  These days it is not only uncommon seeing men doing grocery runs, but simply seeing young, able-body men around, period. All of our boys are either in Europe or the Pacific, fighting to keep the devastation of the World war from reaching our shores.

  “Well, for what is worth, I hope you get to return home safely… you know, so you can do all the boring tasks your mother tells you to do. And when I say safe, I mean, I hope you don’t run anymore into spaced out girls, like me,” I smirk. 

  “Oh, Kit, if only you knew how much I’ve enjoyed our accidental skirmish. It’s like a gift from above, seeing you after all these years. Your smile and the color of your eyes will forever be branded in my mind, to give me a reason to fight. To have a dream,”

  I’m momentarily floored by Marvel’s florid little speech. Nobody has ever said anything nearly as sweet and gallant as that to me, and for a moment, I forget all about my dead sister and father, the war, and my own sorrow. 

  I avert my eyes, bashfully, as he finishes picking up his vittles off the floor.

  “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I lean over to pick up a can of milk, and put it on top of his pile. 

  “I only speak the truth,” he smiles brightly. 

  My mother chooses to interrupt at the exact moment I bat my lashes at him, “Katniss, there you are! I’ve been waiting for you by the counter.” She shakes her head. 

  Marvel wobbles on his feet, rearranging his load, and then greets my mother, warmly, “Mrs. Everdeen, how nice to see you again,” 

  My mother eyes him, unimpressed. “Good afternoon, young man,” she answers. 

  “Ma’am… pardon my forwardness, but, would it be too troublesome to ask Miss Katniss to accompany a soldier about to be shipped out, to supper in the town?” 

  My mother narrows her eyes, distrust dripping from her voice as she speaks, “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. My daughter and I are in mourning, you see,”

  “Oh, this won’t be an untoward celebration of any kind, ma’am. With the war raging on, we’re all in mourning. All I ask for is one last night of normalcy, a chance to reconnect with an old grade-school mate,” he smiles, hopefully, “For old times sake?” 

  I’m watching my mother’s face closely, with bated breath.

  “Very well,” Mother sighs, “You may ask Katniss out to dinner. But have her home by 9 sharp!”  

  I don’t hesitate to step up and give him directions to my apartment building in District 12. 

  I spend the rest of my day giddy and nervous, pressing my best Sunday suit, the gray one with the matching jacket, and polishing my only pair of leather shoes. There isn’t much I can do about my hair… the thing can’t be fashioned into the favored waves, not even putting it in curlers overnight, so I let it be. 

  I briefly wonder if this was all Prim’s doing? Meeting Marvel and mother’s somewhat easy aquiciscent. Prim hated seeing me sad, and constantly talked about how she’d love to help me get ready for dates with a beau. She couldn’t wait to be of courting age and date a strapping, young man herself… but of course, that would never happen for her, but she would probably still want to see me have those things. 

  Maybe Marvel is right, and our serendipitous encounter is a gift from above, to heal our wounds… at least for the night. 

  ————————-

  Marvel arrives at my house in his father’s car at 5:45. Riding is now such a luxury, with gasoline being rationed and all. He takes me to a quaint little dinner in the middle of town. We share malts, a greasy burger, and a small portion of fries and onion rings. 

  We talk about baseball:

  “You’d look good in a baseball uniform, Kit! Can you still run as fast as you did in school?” 

  I laugh. “I’m not much for sports,” I demure, “but I’ve heard playing in one of the new teams pays alright. Anyway, I’m gonna be starting my second year of college soon. I put my studies on hold while Prim was at her worst, but now that it’s only just me and mother… I’m anxious to go back to study.”

  “Wow, beautiful and smart!”

  We talk about cars:

  “I loved driving… but Mother sold our car when my sister took a turn for the worse. She didn’t want to at first, saying that Father saved up to buy it, and it held sentimental value to her, but I had to push to sell it. We needed the money and gas was a nightmare to come by, anyway,”

  “The only reason we still have ours,” says Marvel, “is because Pa is too stubborn to let go of the things that still made him feel wealthy.” He scowls, “He’s trying to get into the ice business now, since it’s pretty much the only thing one where the raw material is plenty and relatively cheap, and there’s guarantee that people will buy the product… everyone still needs ice for their ice boxes, right?” 

  No one can afford luxuries anymore with every penny going out to support our boys in the battlefields.

  We talk about many other subjects: his sister’s wedding; my father’s unit getting pinned and killed by Germans… We didn’t get a body to bury, but I got a medal on his behalf as his eldest child. 

  Marvel lets me sniffle against his chest, and then kisses my lips slowly. 

  I’ve never been kissed on the lips, and I feel my face heat up. 

  “Would you… like to take a drive with me, Kit?”

  We drive all the way to the city limit. It’s exhilarating to be in a car again, and sitting at the overlook, at twilight,  alone with a handsome boy, feels positively forbidden! 

  I’ve never done anything remotely injudicious all my life, and this whole moment feels… magical… exciting! 

  Tentatively, I initiated our next kiss, but he takes over in a rush of caresses and flitting touches. 

  “Beautiful, graceful, Kit. You have no match!”

  “Marvel…” I kiss him again, not knowing how to answer his sentiments with words.

  His hands are restless, groping my shoulders and elbows. “I wished he had more time! I would’ve loved to marry you before departing. I would’ve show you so much passion and love!”

  “You still can show me, Marvel… you absolutely can!” 

  It’s all the permission he needs to dive into a frenzy. He doesn’t stop until the deed is done, and we’re a sweaty, tangled mess of limbs in the back seat of the car, only partially clothed. 

  A deep feeling of lethargy pours over me. My muscles are sore and heavy, and wished I could fall asleep in here. 

  “I intend on coming back to marry you, Katniss,” Marvel says, stretching his lanky, long legs to zip up his pants. 

  I sit up and start finger-combing my ruined hair, hoping my mother won’t notice the strands are extra frizzy. “Um… I guess we should after this,” I say shyly, gesturing between us. 

  “You could still go to college while I’m away,” he offers with magnanimity.

  “You… wouldn’t mind that?” I ask incredulous, college women are so rare, unless they’re trying to become nurses or teachers. Most girls start courting right after high school and get married in the span of one to two years, and their husbands don’t normally encourage an education beyond what their wives came into the marriage with; so to hear Marvel say that wouldn’t mi d me stay in college is just about the greatest thing possible!

  “My darling, Kit, I don’t want you to be one of those girls pining and wasting away for her beau. I’ll be busy at war, it’ll be unfair to keep you from occupying your own time while you wait fir my return. Go to college, my clever girl!”

  I smile indulgently at him, leaning closer to slip his necktie around the collar of his shirt, “You are truly a generous, loving man,” I say.

  Marvel beams, circling my waist with his arms pulling me against his body. “It’s all inspired by you, sugar plum!”

  I giggle, kissing his cheek, “I’ll write to you every day!” I promise. 

  “That’s nice… but just so you know, I might not be able to write back right away. It’ll be a while before I get settled enough to write. But you’ll be in my thoughts every minute of every day, and that’s the honest truth! I’m serious about marrying you when I return, Kit,” he kisses me again. And then, he looks at his watch, sighing. “It’s 8:32. We should get on going, gotta keep in my future mother-in-law’s good graces!” 

  We share a carefree laugh, and finish tidying ourselves up to drive back to my house. 

  He walks me to the door, takes me in his arms, and kisses me passionately before promising he’d be back to officially ask for my hand in marriage, and for my part, I swear I’ll write to him every day until he returns home safe and sound. 

  But neither of us keeps our promises in the end, although I tried. 

  ————————-

  Three weeks go by and I keep my word of writing daily letters. I receive no word in return from Marvel, but think nothing of it… Europe is far and traveling by sea is tedious and time consuming; Marvel will get in touch once he’s settled down. 

  Another week goes by, still without news from my would-be fiancé. I still don’t worry. I’ve been busy with university, and the few other girls attending school with me keep me busy, but my heavier workload is starting to get to me.

  I’m usually so tired and moody after school that socializing with my classmates becomes a chore. I barely eat supper before I’m passing out in bed, and my letters to Marvel start to get shorter and simpler with every passing day.

  I skip writing one afternoon altogether, and take a long nap. Buttercup— Prim’s ugly cat— perches on my bed like a sentinel to watch me sleep. I believe he’s worried about me… stupid, clingy cat thinks I’m sick.

  But the feline’s intuition proves right, because just two days later, I shoot out of bed and run into the washroom to spill every last ounce of last night supper into the toilet. I must’ve caught a bug or something! 

  I feel queasy and lightheaded every morning after. My appetite wanes and it seems my delicate stomach can only tolerate pears, and broth. 

  I visit the post office to place out my letters to Marvel almost everyday; Every time I come, the nice old mailman comments on how sweet it is to see all the young-uns holding romance strong. Marvel has yet to respond to one of my letters, so I just smile tightly and demure. 

  I’ve been thinking though; the longer I go without news of my supposed future husband, and despite the whirlwind night of romance with him, I start questioning my actions, my promises. I never wanted to marry before, and suddenly I was okay getting a hasty, unofficial engagement with a virtual stranger, I barely remember from grade school… maybe it’s better if Marvel never writes. 

  My plans on earning a college degree and finding a well paying job will go unencumbered— I’m aware women in prominent working professions are as rare as snow in July, but women’s presence in the working forces keep growing as industries need laborers to keep up producing while the men fight in the war. Educated women are almost becoming less rare. 

  At the two month mark since I last saw Marvel, I become weepier than usual… is to be expected in my opinion; Prim’s been gone for a little over two months and she was the only person I knew I loved. But now I’m worrying about my health on top of everything.

  One morning, while I’m kneeling on the cold, hard floor in front of the toilet, feeling miserable and tired, my mother calls my name from the open door.

  “Katniss, I think it’s time to get a test.” She states evenly, and then enters the room to fetch a damp washcloth to wipe my face clean. “I hope I’m wrong, but I’m afraid you may be with child,” she sighs. 

  I squirm. “No,” I gasp. “I— I can’t be with child. I just can’t!” But the thought has crossed my mind a few times already. “It’s not supposed to be this way!”

  “I know, child,” My mother pats my head, “there’s only one way to know. Get dressed for the day, I will call the most discreet physician I know, and have him pay us a visit.” 

  ————————-

  Doctor Aurelius— a physician my mother has helped deliver babies and treat maladies with— confirms the pregnancy with a grim face. 

  I sit at my kitchen table numb and despondent. My mother writes a check to the doctor for his services, while talking in no so hush tones in the other room. I listen to their whole conversation, as if submerged in water.

  “I blame myself for this, doctor. I should have kept a closer eye on her,” 

  “Don’t blame yourself Ms. Everdeen, it’s that war business bringing out all sorts of evil into the world! It’s unfortunate the rise of these cases in our community. Young ladies— from good families!— engaging in acts ought to be saved for marriage. Youth do things without thinking, guided by fear. Our boys fear they may not return from that senseless, awful war, and settle down properly, and I don’t blame them one little bit.”

  “The only solace I have right now, is that my poor husband is not here to see the shame that’s fallen over our family,”

  “I understand the sentiment, ma’am. There’s no telling how Preacher Everdeen would’ve taken this blow. But I’m sure things will work out as soon as young Katniss hears from the father…” 

  I dissolve into silent tears then. My mother escorts the doctor to the door and then there’s silence. 

  My pinky finger curls into the soft fabric of the table cloth, and I try to ignore the urge to vomit boiling in my stomach. There’s one thought circling mi mind: my college days are over.

  ——————————-

“Ah! Miss Everdeen, I have something for you.” Says the mailman as soon as I reach the desk. He smiles, but rather sadly, like he’s about to give me bad news. 

  I’ve come to the post office with urgent letters every day for 6 days, and he’s never looked at me this way. 

  The old man digs around for a moment and almost reluctantly, passes a parcel tied up in twine. An envelope is attached to the top of the parcel, and with a sinking feeling, I realized it’s a stack of my own letters. 

  “It came in today, miss.” Says the man, voice laced with pity. “Sorry for your loss.” He says. 

  At first I don’t understand what he could possibly mean by that; he’s offered his sympathies fir my dead father and sister already; it makes absolutely no sense to repeat himself randomly after so long. 

  Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. 

  I gasp, and press the parcel to my chest. “Oh no! Marvel!” I whisper. I give the man a hasty wave, thanking him, and rush out of the post office like mad. 

  Tears run down my cheeks, while I dash home, imagining the worst. “Poor, Marvel!” Is all I can think.

  “Katniss, what’s wrong?” My mother calls, alarmed, when I rush to my bedroom, sobbing. She follows me in, and watches me tear into the envelope at the top of the stack. 

  I frown in confusion when I’m met with handwritten, chicken-scratch scrawl, instead of a formal missive typed in official US military stationary. 

  My scowl deepens as my eyes rove over the flowery vocabulary, and then I screech, “What?!” 

  “Katniss, what’s going on?” 

  I ignore my mother when she approaches to read over my shoulder; I step around her, shaking the piece of paper in my hands and stand by the window, as if sunlight will make the words change their meaning.

  I smooth the creases and folds on the page over, and read out loud, “Dearest Kit, sorry it took so long to write, it’s been a wild time since we arrived and finding time to correspond with everyone back home it’s been hard.

  “At times, your letters have been the sole source of light and hope in the darkness of this conflict. Is for that reason, and with a heavy heart, that I must come clean to you now. I truly meant it when I swore to come back and make you my wife, but as the Good Book says, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and love has sprouted out the most unlikely place! Kit, I’ve fallen in love and married a lovely gal here in England…”

  I stop reading. He goes on talking about the why and how, but I sincerely don’t care. 

  “That good for nothing, virtue dasher, future crushing… liar!” My mother bleats to the ceiling, raising her palms over her head, dramatically. 

  I’m angry too, of course. I feel used and disposed of like a dirty rag, but my mother’s reaction is borderline hilarious. Except, it isn’t. 

  I’m pregnant, unmarried, and soon— once my still flat stomach starts rounding— I’ll be socially ostracized for my condition. My only saving grace was the promise of marriage that bastard Marvel had given me. But that’s gone now. 

  “I knew that boy was bad news the second I laid eyes on him! He never even introduced himself to me, the little weasel! This is my fault. My fault! I should’ve never allowed you to run amok with the likes of him…”

  “Mother, will you please?” I nearly growl, gesturing at the open bedroom door.

  She stares at me uncomprehendingly for a moment, before pursing her lips in disapproval, and stalking out of the room muttering her aggravation under her breath. 

  I sink into my bed with Marvel’s stupid letter crumpling in my fist. A single, hot, angry tear rolls down my face, and for the first time since finding out of its existence, I hug my midsection and address my child, “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I know you didn’t ask for a mother like me, but I’m all you got now, little one. I promise we will be alright… I’ll try not to let you down.”

  ———————-

  My mother has been unbearable for the last two days. She cries in her room worse than when Prim died, and when she sees me, she starts lamenting my poor choice, like I’m not even standing there… as if I don’t feel discouraged enough. 

  I keep myself busy with my education. I will need to earn this diploma now more than ever before, and I need to do as much as I can before the baby arrives and my studies get put on hold. 

  In the meantime, I scout the newspapers for possible work options to sustain me and my mother. Our savings keep diminishing and the small stipend my mother got from the Army since my father passed away is becoming more insufficient by the day. 

  There’s a knock on the front door, and I push out my chair unhappy by the interruption. 

  “Afternoon Miss Katniss! Would you let your mother know she’s got a telephone call down in the lobby?” Says the building’s doorkeeper. 

  “Of course, thank you. She’ll be right down!”

  Telephones are yet another luxury we had to give up when moved to this small place after losing my father. 

  I go back to my job hunt, and my mother descends to the lobby, quickly. 

  She returns after only 10 minutes, almost running through the door, excitedly calling my name. Tears wet her face, but her smile is so blinding, even without knowing what sort of news she’s heard to cause her such joy, I stand from the table with nervous anticipation. 

  “Oh, Katniss! Katniss my dear daughter, you’re saved!” She exclaims, hugging me tightly. 

  I’m confused. I step away from her embrace, “What do you mean?” 

  “It’s the best thing possible ever, I tell you! The Lord has answered all of my prayers!”

  “This is all so exciting and all, mother, but… could you please share this great news already?” 

  My mother cups my face in her hands, and beams at me, “You need to pack your things, darling! Your father’s good friend, Reverend Undersee, has found a husband, and you are to wed, in three days time!”

  —————————

Reverend Undersee and his daughter, Madge, meet me and my mother at the rinky dink bus station, in the equally tiny town my mother has banished me to.

  “Katniss! How long has it been?” Says Madge, hugging me enthusiastically.

  I bite my tongue to keep the acidic retort of “not long enough!” to leave my mouth. 

  “Welcome to Panem,” says the reverend, soberly, shaking my mother’s hand in greeting.

  “Thank you, revered. We appreciate your hospitality and your understanding,” my mother responds, then gives me a pointed look and a wordless command. 

  I nod and mutter, “Thank you, sir. Madge,” 

  I scowl at a crack in the pavement, not feeling an iota of gratefulness for this charade! 

  Any man agreeing to this questionable union has to either be desperate, or be hiding terrible, ulterior motives to go along with all of this. Nobody in their right mind would willingly marry a girl pregnant with another man’s baby, and be happy about it… unless that’s the reason! 

  I shudder at the thought. 

  But it is a very real possibility that my intended is a simpleton, who can’t find a wife otherwise… or worse! It could be a man very advanced in age, looking for a supple, young body to leech off. Gross!

  My mother had been too excited about the news that a man offered to marry me (as if I asked for, or even wanted a husband!) to bother to ask his name. 

  Reverend Undersee coughs daintily, clears his throat, and starts, like he’s giving a lecture at the university. “It is our Christian duty to lend a helping hand to widows and orphans in their time of needs. Same way it’s our duty to keep the memory and honor of an old friend from being dragged into the mud.”

  I wince at the harsh words, and let my face fall lower, if that’s even possible. 

  “Well, it’s a good thing that we are all recipients of the abundant grace of the Lord, which covers multitude of faults, and it’s never hard to reach,” a deep, velvety, masculine voice cuts into my embarrassment. 

  I lift my eyes from the ground, to find a man striding confidently in our direction. He smiles kindly at me, his eyes fixed on my own, like I’m the only person still standing in the station.

  He finally cedes our staring contest, to take in the rest of the group.

  A knot forms in the pit of my stomach, because I recognize him from years past when my family used to visit this town, and I’m afraid I know exactly why he’s here. 

  “Good afternoon, all. I apologize for my tardiness, I had a last second detail to take care of before leaving the house,” he nods in our general direction, taking his hat off; a riot of ashy blonde curls falls onto his forehead, before bending forward to shake my mother’s hand, “I’m Peeta Mellark, at your service, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

  “Likewise, mister Mellark,” says my mother, her lips twitch tersely, “Widow Everdeen, and this here is my daughter Katniss… your bride.” 

  Peeta Mellark’s baby blue eyes slip back to mine, and the left side corner of lips curls into a shy, earnest smile. “Welcome to Panem, Katniss, I’ll sure do my best, so you’d like it here.”

[tinybibmpreg]

Prompt 2/80, #36 - Did you honestly think that was going to impress me? ft. two of my S/tar T/rek ocs, Captain Cipher Nine and Li Ilik Dari’Oza

USS Sifr: Unimpressed

“Did you honestly think that was going to impress me?” Li Ilik drawled, leaning back against a workstation. He crossed his arms across his chest the best he could with two infants strapped there, tilted his head, and leveled Cipher with a glare so unimpressed Cipher slouched. He'd felt like quite the hero when he first turned around to see what his partner thought of his success in a firefight. Now that feeling of victory was rapidly fading away.

Even their daughters looked sorely disinterested in him, and they were just babies.

Foolishly, Cipher answered, “Kind of?”

Li Ilik’s scathing retort was instantaneous, “You wasted resources, time, took damage that could have been avoided, used tactics that were juvenile and utterly predictable, not at all suited to the situation at hand, and you were woefully unprepared. You spent far too much time trying to negotiate as well when we were immediately attacked.”

“I wasn't unprepared.”

“Oh, you were. If I'd been the captain-”

Cipher barely suppressed a grin, perking up. Li Ilik only pulled out that hypothetical in their debates when he was faltering in coming up with arguments, flustered and trying to rile him up fast. He wasn’t really unimpressed, despite the glare. “This is a Starfleet ship, Li. I'm far more suited.”

Li Ilik scoffed. “It doesn't matter. I have far more military experience than you. Don't forget, I was once the second in command of the flagship of the Cardassian military. Second only to-”

He was interrupted by a sharp, “I thought Captain Cipher did really well, Dari’Oza. It's been a while since you were even Dal, right? I bet you'd be rather rusty. You don't know what you're talking about.”

Cipher rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation as his first officer spoke. Even after so much time, the man didn't seem to realize Cipher didn't need his reputation or orders defended, especially not from Li Ilik, who criticized everything he did as Captain, according to traditional Cardassian courtship. It was the easiest and most passionate argument they could have. Li Ilik straightened immediately, tail lashing. His grey protofeathers ruffled, and he growled before storming off of the bridge. Well, not really storming, exactly, Cipher thought. With two babies always strapped to his chest or tucked in his arms, and a heavily pregnant belly hanging off of his slim figure, Li Ilik waddled off a bit more than he stalked off, lately.

It was very funny to watch, even though Cipher knew Li Ilik only took off like that instead of verbally ripping into whoever he felt insulted him when he was upset. Being pregnant again had made the Cardassian rather emotional. Cipher wanted to go after him, but he had work to do as Captain. He couldn't just run off right after a battle. He needed to review damage reports, assign repair teams, be there in case another ship showed up. Get the ship back in top shape before they could continue on their mission course. Then he could go see if Li Ilik was still offended.

“Okay. Do we have an update on the hull and shield status?”

“Yes, Captain. There was a hull breach near engineering, but no casualties. They're already fixing it. The shield is on its way back to 100%.”

“Excellent.” Cipher sat down in his chair and settled into his role as Captain.

For all of three minutes. Then his second officer walked in, looking a bit confused. Cipher greeted her, “Ah. Lieutenant Commander Rian. You have a report?”

“Um, yes. Though, uh, is Dari’Oza alright? I passed him on my way up. I thought he would be on the bridge- it looked like he was crying, almost…”

Li Ilik rarely cried, even when hormonal and overemotional in his pregnancy. Work would have to wait. Cipher stood up. “Commander, can you man the bridge for me? I’ll be back later.”

“Sure, Captain. I'll take that report then, Rian.” 

Cipher walked out of the bridge and onto the elevator. Once the doors closed, he asked for the lift to bring him to deck 8, where the Captain’s quarters were. He tapped his foot as it descended. He tried not to think about how slow the turbolift was when he was impatient, as it’d only make it seem even longer.

When the lift finally stopped on his deck, he practically leaped off of it, heading towards his quarters. He kept his pace quick in case he passed anyone. His crew tended to leave him be if he looked like he was in a hurry to get somewhere. Rian always told him he could be quite intense when he was determined, whether that be when he was having a conversation, fighting a battle, or simply making his way through the ship corridors.

As soon as he was in front of his quarters, he slapped the entrance panel and stepped in, calling, “Li? Girls?”

No sign of Li Ilik or the twins in the living room or dining area. Cipher reached out to give his cat, Fox, a pat on the head as he went for the master bedroom, which was currently shut. A rarity, since Cipher insisted it be kept open at all times so his cat could go in and out of the bedroom as she pleased. Li Ilik had grown fond of the animal the past few years, sometimes preferring her company over Cipher’s. He never closed the door unless he was very upset, too upset for even Fox to comfort.

He clicked for the door to open, but it stayed shut. Now very worried, he input his override code. The door slid open and he headed into the dimly lit room. Li Ilik was curled up on the bed, his face buried into a pillow to muffle his crying. His shoulders were wracked with sobs. The girls were sound asleep on the bed, each on their nursing pillows, with their father’s tail wrapped around them. Cipher rushed to his side, climbing onto the bed but being careful not to disturb the girls. “Li!”

“Go away.”

“No, you’re upset. I want you to talk to me.” He rubbed Li Ilik’s back. “Please?”

Li Ilik lifted his tear-stained face a bit. “Why bother? You know what’s wrong.”

“The thing with Commander Gaines?” 

Li Ilik nodded. Cipher pulled him up so he could hold him. Li Ilik kept a firm hold on the pillow but leaned against him. Cipher exhaled with relief. At least Li Ilik wasn’t angry with him, or else he would have fought the hold or pulled away. He reached over and pulled the girls closer, so Li Ilik could keep his tail around them. When he tried to kiss his temple, Li Ilik turned his head. So he was definitely upset with him, and not so much the first officer.

Cipher kissed the top of his head anyway. Normally he loved feeling the soft grey protofeathers that made up his husband’s hair, but now he couldn’t focus on that. “He’s a bit temperamental. Still, he shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Li Ilik shook his head, more tears welling up in his eyes. Cipher felt a bit helpless. It’d never bothered Li Ilik before when the first officer argued with him. Sure, he’d get offended, but he’d always get over it fairly quickly. But now it seemed like it was something a bit more than Gaines making a needless retort, something he’d missed.

“If the Commander didn’t upset you, what did? Did something happen on your way here?”

“You didn’t defend me!” Li Ilik cried. “You let him speak to me like that!”

“But you’ve never gotten upset about him before?”

“I don’t care what he says! He’s just some sycophant Federaji lackey-” Cipher filed that phrase away to laugh at later when all of this was over with and he was allowed to find it funny. “But you never defend me!”

“I- I didn’t know I needed to do that. You always defend yourself so well. You never seem to need my help.”

“How could you think that?” Li Ilik sobbed. “Do you find it okay that your subordinates flirt or offend me in front of you?”

“I don’t think Gaines was flirting with you,” Cipher said, then immediately wished he hadn’t. That wasn’t what he should have focused on.

“It doesn’t matter whether he was flirting or arguing with me!” Li Ilik hissed at him, voice rising. One of the girls mumbled and Li Ilik glanced down at her. He touched her with the tip of his tail, and she settled down. He crumpled, burying his face into the pillow again and sobbing miserably.

Cipher hugged him tightly, but Li Ilik squirmed out of his grip. “I don’t like when Gaines or the others upset you.”

“Then why do you let them do that? You’re the Captain, your subordinates shouldn’t be talking to your mate like that, especially not in front of you, in front of everyone, in front of our daughters, when I’m carrying your children-”

Man, Cipher thought, it really was bad that he was letting those things slide. He should have realized that his husband wanted him to speak up for him like a proper Cardassian mate would have. Or like a proper mate at all would have. Being human wasn’t even an excuse.

“I’ll talk to Gaines about it, I promise.” That seemed to soothe Li Ilik. Cipher kissed his hunter-eye, and Li Ilik took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry I let things get this bad, Li. Shouldn’t have let you get into this state.”

“If you were Cardassian, this never would have happened. You would have kept all your men in line from the start,” Li Ilik told him, and Cipher knew he’d been forgiven.

“Oh, if I were Cardassian, you wouldn’t like me nearly as much.”

Li Ilik gave him an unimpressed glare, somehow just as effective even with his face wet with tears and his hair all ruffled.

Cipher grinned and kissed him, then pecked extra kisses on his cheek for good measure. Li Ilik pulled away to wipe off his face and try to fix his hair. “Enough, enough.”

“Oh, man, it freaks me out when you’re upset.”

“Then you should endeavor to be the best husband possible, so I’m not upset again,” Li Ilik told him, jabbing at his chest. “I don’t expect to cry again until you die and leave me a widower with four children to look after.”

Cipher rolled his eyes. “I won’t be dying that soon, geez.”

“Good.” Li Ilik thought for a moment and then added, “Unless of course, you die in an idiotic way. Then I won’t be crying over you.”

“I’ll die as a hero and you and the girls will weep over my body or what’s left of it in front of everyone, or in such a ridiculous way that you’ll be crying tears of frustration over how I could be such a fool. Deal?”

Li Ilik scoffed. Then, he asked, “Do you have to go back to the bridge?”

“Nah, I think Gaines and Rian have it handled. I’ll stay here with you and the girls until they need me.”

“Help me hold the children.” Li Ilik reached to gently pick up one of their daughters, careful not to wake her up. Cipher reached around Li Ilik to pick up the other twin and placed her in Li Ilik’s arm. Once he had them comfortably laying against his chest, the both of them nuzzling against the base of his throat, Li Ilik leaned back against Cipher. Smiling, Cipher wrapped his arms around Li Ilik, resting his hands on his belly.

It was nice to have his whole family in his arms. Cipher made sure to cherish it. The girls were going to get bigger and it’d be impossible for Li Ilik to try to hold two almost-toddlers and two newborns, though Cipher was certain that he’d try. And then as all the kids grew it’d be more and more difficult to fit them.

“Hello there, Fox.” Meowing, Cipher’s cat hopped up onto the bed and plodded around before sitting next to her owner and kneading the blankets. He scratched behind her ears and was glad when she started purring. Then she stood, stretched, and flopped down against him.

Now he had his whole family, he realized.

But before he could settle in again and maybe try giving Li Ilik some more kisses, his commbadge chimed. “Rian to Captain Cipher.”

Cipher sighed and hit his badge. “Cipher here.”

“Captain, we’re receiving a long-distance message from a ship similar to the one that attacked us. We need you on the bridge.”

“Put the ship on yellow alert and increase sensors, make sure to keep an eye on that ship, try to get a visual. I’m on my way. Cipher out.”

Grumbling, Li Ilik looked disappointed. Cipher detached himself from them, guiding his husband to lean against a pile of pillows.

“Duty calls,” Cipher said apologetically, giving Li Ilik another kiss. He pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s heads, and then one to Fox’s. She gave a small ‘mew’ in response. Finally, he dipped his head to press two kisses to Li Ilik’s belly, pulling up his shirt to kiss against his skin.

“H-hey!”

“Stay safe and get some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He headed out of the bedroom, but then stopped and dipped his head back in. Smirking, he said, “And by the way, I think I made excellent decisions in battle as Captain today.”

Completely flustered, Li Ilik hissed back, “No, you didn’t!”

“Love you too, Li. Love you, girls!” Grinning like a fool, he left his quarters and went to the bridge.

-

As it turned out, the ship that had attacked them was a stolen ship commandeered by criminals, and the ship contacting them, a military ship in pursuit of the theives, was very grateful for the sensor readings they could provide and the course heading of where the damaged ship had run away after being overpowered. They were given permission to head to the ship’s system of origin, an invitation of first contact.

It would take three days to get there, and once things were underway and all repairs were sorted out and started, Cipher stood up, beamed down at his first officer, and said, “Commander, can I see you in my ready room?”

“Of course, Captain.”

Cipher led Gaines into his ready room. He sat down behind his desk and flicked at a stray marble that had escaped its display container. It rolled towards the edge of the desk but bumped into the little siding he’d had installed to prevent his collection from falling.

Gaines sat down in front of the desk, watching him flick the marble. “Did you want to go over first contact procedures, sir?”

“Oh, no. We won’t be able to do that until tomorrow anyway when we get that information packet from their capital they promised.”

“Then what is it, sir? I thought you’d be headed straight down to your quarters once things were quiet, to be with your family.”

“Once this is done with, I will.” Cipher plucked up the marble and set it back where it belonged. “And funny that you bring up my family, actually-”

“Yeah, Rian already ripped into me about earlier. I didn’t mean to make Dari’Oza cry, sir. He’s just… very insulting.”

Cipher shrugged. “I know you don’t like my husband. Cardassians can be an acquired taste.”

“I don’t think it’s a taste I’ll get used to.”

Cipher appreciated that Gaines was so honest, and he liked him. He hoped that Gaines wouldn’t be too upset. Li Ilik’s feelings mattered more, though.

“I hope you’re not aware that Cardassians flirt by arguing, Drew. I know Li and I probably shouldn’t be so brazen on the bridge, but in a proper Cardassian romance, the couple argues all the time. It’s very fun, getting riled up.”

“I… I didn’t know that, Captain.”

“I tried to give you time to figure it out so I didn’t embarrass you, but then I realized enough is enough. Even if Li Ilik wasn’t just doing a Cardassian courting tradition, I don’t like how you speak to him. You shouldn’t be purposefully trying to argue with or offending your captain’s spouse, especially not when he’s pregnant. And you absolutely shouldn’t be so disrespectful in front of the bridge crew, in front of me, and in front of our daughters.”

Gaines looked thoroughly ashamed. “I’m sorry, Captain. I shouldn’t have been unprofessional.”

“Great! I look forward to things being better from now on. Also, I think Li Ilik is, hm… a bit pettier now that he’s so pregnant, so he’ll probably try to rile you up to upset you. Not in the good way that he does to me, either. Use all of your training and Starfleet determination to resist, okay?”

“Captain…!”

“I’d tell him not to, but it would not go over well. Imagine telling an almost full-term pregnant human not to do something. That would be a disaster. Now imagine telling a Cardassian. Yeah, that won’t happen.” Cipher laughed. “Dismissed, Commander. You have the bridge. Now I’m going to go to my quarters and spend time with my family. I’m sure Li Ilik’s been prepping on how to criticize any first contact ideas I might have, and I’m looking forward to it.”

[carelessannie]

maybe it goes like this: steve builds his pack (part 1)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Read on A03

Read the Tony courts Peter wip

Stucky focus (Steve x Bucky)

A sweet, slightly angsty backstory in three parts (ending in Stuckony).

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, Middle/High School Au, talk about family death, public non-sexual submission, steve beats the shit out of some bullies

---

Maybe it goes like this:

Steve can’t remember life with a pack, but knows for certain that his Ma grieves for them. Ever since he was a boy, he would catch his Ma staring at fading photos of strangers, wiping tears from her eyes, and denying it when Steve would ask why do they make you cry.

It’s not until later in his life that Steve learns the truth about pack bonds, about the decision an Alpha makes in life to form a familial or an intimate bond with their packmates. His Ma refuses to let him learn about packs from school, instead sitting him down across the table, like an adult, Steven, and he learns about orientations and secondary genders when he’s nine years old.

His Ma explains the way kids will turn into adults: first establishing their orientation as Dominant, Submissive, or Versatile, and later in high school, presenting as Alpha, Beta or Omega. She threads their fingers together, and asks Steve if he can notice what she is, and he concentrates real hard, trying to decide, as his Ma laughs.

It’s okay, Steven, you won’t be able to tell what other people are until your own body has developed.

Steve nods, pretending like he understands, and asks his mom about her presentation. She gives him a sad— sad? — smile, and says she’s a Submissive Beta.

It’s silent as Steve puts those two things together with the strong, beautiful woman he admires as his Ma, and is still confused. He asks about packs, and Alphas, and what intimate and familial packs are— gaining an amused shake of the head from his Ma.

Why don’t I just tell you about my pack, yes?

Steve nods eagerly, desperate to hear the story of a family he never had,

My pack was intimate, Steven, which means we all loved each other very much and decided to live together. I met my— our Alpha when I was in nursing school, before you were born. She was already mated to two Omegas, and they had been searching for a Beta to join their pack. We fell in love. I met her Omegas, and all four of us were very compatible— do you remember what that means, hun?

Mhm, like when you know you belong with someone even more than anyone else.

Right, good, so we all belonged to each other, understand? We lived in our Alpha’s house, and all of us worked jobs in the city. About a year after joining her pack, I met your Pa. He transferred to the hospital I worked at, and he was also a Beta, like me, but he was Dominant. I introduced him to my pack, and they loved him too. Within a year, we were mated and I had you. Makes sense, Steven?

Yes, Ma. But… What happened to them?

At this, his Ma goes silent, breathing deeply before finishing the story for her son.

Do you remember the difference between packmates and bondmates, Steven?

Um. One is forever, right?

Yes, good, if you are in love or committed to a pack, they are your packmates, whether you are intimate or not. But sometimes, two people, or a whole pack, want to make their relationship last forever, and they become bondmates. All people have the private part of their necks, remember? You have to know, sweetheart, the only way to start a bond is to bite each other there while mating. We’ll wait to talk about mating until you’re in middle school, okay hun?

Yes, Ma.

Good boy. Now. The other important thing about bonding is that it ties your soul to another person’s forever. Any person of any orientation can bond with whoever they’d like, as long as they’re compatible. But you have to know, and this is so important, that once you bond, your souls become one. My whole pack was bonded, but… Daisy… hun, our Alpha died of cancer. She got very sick, and died. And when one bondmate dies, everyone who shares the bond gets sick and dies too.

… Ma, but. Why didn’t you die?

I decided, once I got pregnant with you, that I didn’t want to risk bonding to my pack. Your father and I loved each other so much, and you were the symbol of our love, not a bite. And I’m thankful, sweetheart, because I get to be your Ma and watch you grow up.

Do you miss them, Ma?

Every day, Steven.

Steve doesn’t remember his Ma mentioning her pack again after that day, but he did start to notice that she would get sad a few times a year, around forgotten birthdays and anniversaries. She would spend all of her days working hard to provide for the two of them, and always made sure Steve knew he was loved and valued, even when she denied herself the opportunities to find a new pack.

Looking back, Steve can see that they didn’t have a lot of luxuries or comforts, and definitely didn’t live in the best part of town. He had a few friends in Bushwick, growing up in the nineties it was a poor place to live, but they were perfectly happy to play in the streets during the day, and lock their doors tight at night.

As he ties up his laces, he thinks about his small family and is immeasurably happy. There’s no one he loves more in the world than his Ma. He hates the thought of getting on the bus and driving far away to switch middle schools, but his Ma reassures him that he will love meeting new kids and making new friends.

So he grabs his backpack, tightening the knots holding the straps in place, and hops down the stairs, only sparing one look to his Ma on the front step.

It’s a long bus ride to the school, more than thirty minutes. Over the summer, his Ma found out that the school system wanted him to transfer to a better school because of budget... something and overcrowding—? He’s actually not quite sure why he can’t go back to his old school, but his Ma made it seem like William Alexander Middle School thinks he’s special and has asked for him specifically. So yeah, Steve is really excited.

He’s going into Seventh grade, and gets his own locker, and gets to go to art class.

Steve spends the whole bus ride reviewing the schedule he already has memorized, and comparing it with the school map that his Ma printed for him, tracing his finger around from class to class. Bus to Nurse to Homeroom to Algebra to English to Nurse to Lunch to Gym to Art to Nurse to Bus.

The day passes this way, Steve confidently following his map around the school and taking notes in his small notebook. It’s not until Gym that he gets nervous, remembering his last asthma attack, and hopes the nurse told his gym teacher about his restrictions as he files into the gym and takes a seat on the floor.

“Steve Rogers?”

“Here.”

“No, Steve, I need to talk to you,” Steve looks up and sees his gym teacher, a really large man with a beard, waving him to the front of the class. The other kids turn to whisper to each other as Steve walks forward.

“I— did—”

“Steve, I have a note here from the nurse, saying you cannot participate in most exercises because of your health issues. Because of this, I’m going to suggest you join the sixth grade class, which will go at a better pace for you, and let Mr. Howlett help you further, okay?”

He feels his entire face flush dark red as the other students behind him whisper and laugh. He’s a seventh grader, not a baby sixth grader. He holds eye contact with the gym teacher, folding his arms across his chest, but still grinds out a, “Yes, Sir,” like his Ma would want him to.

“Good, it’s settled. Here, Mr. Howlett has sent James to show you where to go.”

Steve turns to find a small, smiling boy waiting for him at... parade rest? What—

“Alright Stevie, let’s go,” and the boy turns on his heel, marching across the gym as Steve scrambles to keep up.

James slows down slightly, letting Steve catch him, “First things first, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but most people call me Jamie. I hate it, but it’s better than nothin',” he looks over at Steve, eyeing him up and down, “Second, Mr. Howlett is friends with my dad. You stick with me, and this class will be a breeze, capiche?”

Steve swears his eyes are falling out of his head, and he nods his affirmation.

“Good,” is all Jamie responds with before grabbing his hand, tugging him to join a younger, smaller group of kids in the gym. As they approach, Jamie lifts their hands in triumph, “I found him!”

Feeling betrayed, Steve rips his hand free in embarrassment, but Jamie just smiles wider and pulls him towards their gym teacher, Mr. Howlett.

How this man could be bigger and scarier than the last teacher, Steve doesn’t know, but refuses to hide behind Jamie as they approach, and instead stands up even taller. Mr. Howlett makes a grunting noise, flipping through a few papers on his clipboard, before looking up at the two boys.

“Rogers?”

Before he can respond, Jamie pipes up, “Yeah! Here’s his note from the nurse, and he’s my friend and— and can I help him out? Please?”

It’s pretty clear that Mr. Howlett couldn’t care less either way, but all Steve can see is the raw, eager look in Jamie’s face as he begs their teacher to help Steve.

Huh, he thinks, the only other time I've seen this look is when Ma begs the pharmacist to refill my inhaler prescription when her paycheck's late.

“Whatever, Jamie, just keep outta trouble, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir!” Jamie delivers, with a crisp solute to match, and pulls Steve towards the back of the class.

They settle down, and Jamie keeps holding onto his hand. Steve glances over and sees Jamie quickly look away, suddenly shy.

“Jamie?”

The smaller boy looks over, hopefully, “Yeah, Stevie?”

“Thank you, I didn’t think I’d get a friend on my first day, much less the best one in the school.”

Jamie ducks his head again before turning his brilliant smile in Steve’s direction, and Steve continues before he has a chance to respond, “and Jamie?”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

“I swear, cross my heart, that I’ll find you a better nickname.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, and then he’s laughing, loud and doubled over. He grips harder onto Steve, who can’t help laughing along, even as they get funny looks from the class and a gruff, c’mon, quiet down, from Mr. Howlett.

Shaking his head, Jamie tries to catch his breath as he responds, “ I— I think— I’d love that— Stevie.”

And all Steve can do is smile back.

---

It takes a week for Steve to settle on Bucky, and when Bucky says he loves it, Steve runs all the way home to tell his Ma.

---

Steve and Bucky have Gym class and Lunch together almost every day for a year, and spend the whole summer waiting for their schedules to be mailed, hoping for at least two classes together.

They get their wish.

---

Halfway through eighth grade, Steve gets sent home with a stamped letter from his guidance counselor. For the past few weeks, the guidance counselor has asked him and Bucky to have lunch in her office, and the boys always shrug and agree. Today, after finishing lunch, she hands both boys an official letter for their guardians to discuss with them.

“Whaddaya think’s in it, Stevie?” Bucky asks, squinting at the letter as he holds it up to the light. The boys are heading straight from lunch to the nurse’s office to get Steve’s medicine, like they do every day, and Bucky grips tight to his hand, intertwining their fingers, like he does every day.

“I dunno, Buck. Maybe she’s gonna tell your Ma that you smell and needa bath,” the comment earns Steve a light shove, and an affectionate, “Punk,” in response.

“Jerk,” Steve replies, a reflex, and reaches out to pull Bucky closer, “I wouldn’t worry ‘bout it, Buck. She’s been real nice up ‘til now—”

“Yeah, I know, I just don’t wanna bother my dad if it’s somethin’ bad.”

They fall silent for a moment, both boys knowing how busy and strict Bucky’s dad can be. Steve sees Bucky’s head drop, lost, as he looks at the letter in his small hands. He slows them to a stop, turns Bucky around to face him in the school hallway, and hums in approval as Bucky meets his eyes and slowly tilts his head back. He grabs onto both shoulders, squeezing lightly, and pulls Bucky up close. Fingers tighten in the back of Steve’s shirt as Bucky clings to him, and he nuzzles into his best friend's hair, comforting, while rubbing across his shoulders.

“So sweet, Bucky. There’s no way your dad could be mad at you, alright? Believe me?”

He gazes down into soft, glazed gray eyes, and freezes. Bucky is slightly trembling against him, looking at him like he’s a revelation. Steve feels a calm settle into his bones as he reacts purely on instinct, reaching up to grip Bucky around the neck.

A few things happen in quick succession.

First, Bucky’s eyes roll up into his head, breath leaving his body in a woosh along with a high pitched whimper.

Second, Steve widens his stance, straightening his back, and Bucky sinks, fast, to his knees, gripping onto Steve’s thighs for balance.

And then, out of the haze—

“STEVE ROGERS, YOU RELEASE THAT BOY IMMEDIATELY,” and the trance is broken.

Steve is horrified to see Bucky curled up on the floor, and he stumbles back. Large arms wrap around him, herding him away from—

“STEVIE, no, please—” the voice of his best friend, his Bucky, follows him down the hallway along with small broken cries, and Steve fights hard against the strong arms that hold him,

“C’mon, kid, it’s okay. Just gonna call your Ma and getcha settled,” but Steve doesn’t care.

His boy is back there, somewhere, calling for him, needing him, and he can’t get back, he can’t protect, he can’t save, he can’t— breathe.

---

It’s okay, hun. Shh, sweet boy, it’s okay.

— Sarah, he had Jamie on his knees, submitting—

— no, I don’t think Jamie has stopped crying yet—

— only a few more months, it’ll be fine—

---

Steve wakes in his bed at home, confused.

“B— bucky?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” his Ma pushes past the door, “you up alright?”

He blinks his eyes a few times, disoriented, “Where… what—”

“Shh, hun,” she holds out a glass of water, which Steve takes gratefully,

“Ma, where’s Bucky?”

His Ma looks nervous, and straightens the sheets on the bed, “Steven, Bucky is just fine. How much do you remember about what happened?”

The memories are sticky, “I was just hugging Bucky. He was scared that his dad would be angry about the— oh! The letter from the counselor. Ma, I have an important letter for you. Officially stamped and everything,” his Ma just nods, so he continues, “I dunno, I was hugging Bucky in the hallway, and then something was… different. Like really heavy between us? And all I wanted was to keep him safe, but then… Then they took him, and—”

Steve looks into his Ma’s eyes, suddenly horrified, “I hurt him, didn’t I?”

He must’ve, that would be the only reason they knocked him out and separated him from his— from his—

“No, Steven, not like that. You absolutely did not hurt him,” then what... “You were the perfect Dominant, hun, and it’s not your fault, okay sweetheart?”

“Dominant? Ma…”

“Hush, Steven. I’m going to tell you something important, and you’re going to listen to me,” he nods once, so she continues, “the letter from your counselor was very important, Steven. Remember how boys and girls start to present around your age? Your guidance counselor has been monitoring signs of presentation between you and Bucky, signs that were confirmed today in the hallway. Steven, today you presented as a Dominant, and Bucky submitted to you. Do you know what this means?”

“T— that we’re… compatible?”

His Ma nods solemnly, “Yes, exactly. The doctors are not sure yet if Bucky is Submissive or Versatile, but you are a strong Dominant. My strong boy.”

“But Ma, why was it so bad?”

She sits on the edge of the bed, scooting so that she can pull Steve closer,

“Because, hun, both of you dropped.”

“Dropped...”

Ma hums, finding the words to explain,

“A lot of times, when a Dominant and Submissive are together, they go into a headspace. It’s calm, it feels right and certain and instinctual. Usually a Dominant will take more control, and the Submissive will allow it, naturally. If this doesn’t happen in a safe, private space, or if it’s interrupted, both parties are at risk of dropping. That means you could feel sick, lost, and upset— and even panic or become depressed,”

Exactly like what happened to me, Steve thinks,

“— and with you and Bucky, you both passed out from the stress. That’s why I need to know if you’re okay, Steven,”

It makes sense. Now that Steve knows what to look for, he can easily recognize not only moments where Bucky has submitted easily to him, but also moments where Bucky challenged him and he ended up claiming Bucky’s submission in an argument. His best friend, the boy who fights for him and is always at his side— it’s overwhelming. All Steve wants to know is—

“Ma, please, what happened to my Bucky?”

“Steven, don’t—“

“I need to know—“

“He’s still in a drop, hun.”

Steve swings out of the bed, “How? It’s been hours,” he hears his Ma stutter out something, but feels a resolve settle, “I’ve gotta be with him, Ma.”

“No.”

“But—“

“I said no. His pack is sending me updates, but was very clear that they want you to stay away from Bucky for now. He needs time to recover and understand what’s happened, as do you. And, as your principal recommended, both of you are switching lunch periods and transferring classes, to help reduce the stress of being around each other, is that clear?”

Not even sure he’s heard right past stay away from Bucky, Steve drops back into bed in shock. No more Bucky? He can’t even comprehend what his day would look like without his best friend next to him, and just like that, he’s destroyed one of most important relationships in his life.

Hot, wet tears fall through the night as he wraps around his sheets, wishing he was holding onto a smaller, dark haired boy with crystal blue eyes.

—

There are only two months left until summer, and they feel like two years without Bucky.

Steve cries himself to sleep for the first week.

In the second week, he tries talking to the adults in charge, all of whom give him pity and suggest he’ll get over it and move on.

By the third week, Steve is angry. He snarls at classmates, teachers, anyone who looks at him the wrong way. He gets sent home with a note about his behavior, and his Ma just gives him more useless pity.

During the fourth week, he’s walking the hall to his last period of the day, when he hears a plea for help and the slamming of a door echo from the boy’s bathroom. He runs inside, ready to take down a bully, and sees two eighth graders pinning someone to the bathroom stall. He steps in just as they punch the boy across the jaw,

“Hey assholes, why don’tcha pick on someone your own size?”

The boys whirl around and sneer, dropping the smaller kid in a heap on the ground.

“Look what we have here, a pint sized savior,” the larger of the two smiles wickedly, as he sizes up Steve, and the other one delivers a kick to their initial target for good measure, “Wonder where you got the balls, tiny?”

Steve throws his fists up, and the boys smile even wider, amused. The larger bully lunges for him, suddenly, and Steve absorbs his tackle, trying to roll them around on the floor to get on top. He delivers a well aimed elbow to the guy’s throat, which has him sputtering, and drives his knee down between the kid’s legs, earning him a satisfying howl.

“Yo, kid, it’s okay, c'mon it was just a joke—“

The other boy’s words barely register as Steve lands one, two, three hard right hooks to the bully’s face, before pushing off his chest and standing to his feet. The second kid scoots past Steve, hauling his friend up and escaping out the entrance.

“St— Stevie?”

All of the rage expels from Steve’s body as he turns to find Bucky smiling up at him from the floor where the bullies had dropped him just moments earlier.

He approaches slowly, and notices just how bruised Bucky is, just how tired he looks. Steve catalogs the blood on his face, dark circles under his eyes, possibly dislocated shoulder, and gaunt expression with care, touching as little as possible.

“We should— we should go to the nurse, Buck. It doesn’t look good.”

Bucky nods and attempts to get to his feet, but lets out a weak groan and sinks back down to the floor.

“C’mon, jerk,” Steve teases, trying his best to hide concern and devastation, pulling Bucky back to his feet on his good side, “do I hafta carry ya the whole way?”

There’s a weak laugh that could also be a sob from Bucky, and Steve tries to take more of his weight as they limp towards the nurse’s office.

He feels hopeful after hearing a barely whispered, “Punk,” in return.

---

The nurse lets the two boys cling to each other on the small cot, and proceeds to call both of their packs, asking for both kids to go home early for the day.

Steve glares at the nurse the whole time, knowing that he only has a few precious moments with his best friend before they’re separated again.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Stevie?” the younger boy looks up adoringly, “you okay?”

“I’m fine, Buck, how— are you okay?” He does his best to hold back tears that are welling up in his eyes, and enjoys the solid feeling of Bucky, safe and warm in his arms.

Small fingers run over his cheeks, wiping away a few stray tears that had slipped free, and Bucky’s smile just grows, “So much better now, that’s for sure.” He wiggles a bit, and Steve laughs lightly, gripping his friend’s waist tighter.

He leans down, brushing his nose against the shell of Bucky’s ear, and whispers, “Nothing has been the same without you, Bucky.”

A shiver goes through Bucky’s body, Steve feels it by proximity, and Bucky remains silent, until Steve hears one hitched breath, then another. He pulls away slightly, looking into Bucky’s face as the smaller boy dissolves into tears. Bucky pulls himself closer, burying his face in Steve’s neck as great, giant sobs tear him apart. All Steve can do is shush him gently, kiss him on the head, and rock them back and forth, waiting for his Bucky to calm down as the minutes pass in silence.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,”

Steve looks up, turning his body to guard Bucky’s vulnerable one, and sees Bucky’s Beta father and Omega mother standing in the doorway, expressions both shocked and resolved.

“Steve, can you tell us what happened?”

It takes a few minutes for Steve to explain how he saved Bucky, and when he finishes, he watches the Beta and Omega exchange a knowing look, before they take a seat near the nurse’s cot. Neither move to take Bucky away, which is perfectly fine with Steve, who just holds his friend closer. A quick glance gown confirms Bucky has stopped crying and fallen asleep, sniffling lightly.

“We need to talk to you, Steve,” he hears Bucky’s dad call for him, and reluctantly looks up at both of them, noticing the guidance counselor also waiting in the doorway. He nods to allow them to continue,

“I’m afraid we haven’t handled this situation well, son,” Bucky’s dad continues, “and it seems to have hurt both of you boys. I’m sorry, and want you to know we only wanted the best for Jamie.”

“I get it, sir,” Steve shifts slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “Does this mean I can see Bucky again?”

The Beta leans forward on his seat, making sure to focus on the younger boys, “Yes, Steve, we want you and Jamie to keep being friends, at least until you go to high school next year.”

He can’t even help the relieved sigh and small smile that take over his face, letting his eyes fall shut as he relaxes back onto the bed. Good. He doesn’t even spare a thought for their friendship after middle school, completely convinced that in this moment, him and Bucky will be together, forever.

---

Steve and Bucky fall back into their old routine, classes and lunchtime back to normal, and the news of Steve’s fight spreads like wildfire throughout the school. Both boys find themselves surrounded by new friends, many of whom knew Bucky but hadn’t hung out with Steve before, and he enjoys watching his best friend thrive in newfound popularity.

As summer approaches, Bucky starts talking more about going out for football in eighth grade. Steve always knew he loved sports, and had often encouraged Buck to keep playing baseball when the younger boy would get frustrated, so he naturally pushes his friends to try out. What he isn’t prepared for is how little he sees of Bucky over the summer. He barely notices at first, still seeing Bucky a few days a week, but then he starts to get rain checks on his invitations.

“Sorry, Stevie, rain check— I’m doing drills with the guys all day,”

“Aw man, rain check? I’m at conditioning every day this week and literally can’t get free,”

“Maybe rain check for this weekend? The guys are running plays all day, and I just gotta be there,”

“— you understand, right Stevie?”

And Steve does understand. He decides to give Bucky a little more space, only asking to hang out once a week, if that, and focuses on preparing for high school. He spends more time with his Ma, and she helps him pick out a brand new backpack from Walmart. When he protests, saying his old backpack is just fine, she shakes her head and insists on buying a product that will last. He fills it with notebooks and new pencils and pens and even a pack of colored pencils with a shiny dual sharpener.

It’s a few weeks before school starts that his Ma receives a letter from the school system. He’s decorating the cover of his notebook, laying across their living room floor, when his Ma comes and sits next to him on the floor.

“Steven, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay, Ma, one sec,” he takes a few moments to gather his pencil shavings, packing up his colored pencils, putting them in the correct order, and closing his notebook, stacking everything neatly on top.

“What’s wrong, Ma?”

“Remember when you went into middle school, and the government had to move you to William Alexander because the school closest to us was overcrowded?” Steve nods, he does remember, “Well, they don’t have the same issue with the high school here. So you’re going to be going Bushwick High, which is just a couple blocks away from us.”

“Oh, I thought I was gonna be going to school in Park Slope again, near Bucky?”

“I know, Steven,” his Ma gives a small pat to his head, before standing up and heading for the kitchen, “why don’t we have a snack and talk about it more? They sent a list of classes, and you get to choose electives and everything.”

Steve tries calling Bucky that night, eager to tell him about his news, but just gets the answering machine. He tries two more times that week, and comes up blank.

Within a few weeks, Steve is walking into Brooklyn High, confident and proud, and barely spares a thought about missing his best friend at his side.

[elisajdb]

Life With You: XXXIII

AN: Hi. I didn’t quit. Just had a very busy few months. I got sidelined into a project that took up a lot of my free time. It also caused me to have writer’s block but I got the story done. It’s another long one. Thank you for all the kind and supportive reviews. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.

 Part Thirty-Three: A New Life: Part Two

  “Krillin! Krillin, wake up!”

 The sharp pounding on his door woke Krillin from a blissful sleep. He was blinded in darkness. “What the hell?” Krillin murmured as he reached for the lamp and switched it on. “Ow!” he grimaced at the bright light.

 “Krillin!”

 “I’m up. I’m up.” Krillin pulled off the covers and swung his legs out of bed. Sluggishly, he walked to the door and stumbled over a shoe. He opened the door to see Master Roshi holding a cordless phone. “What is it?”

 “It’s Gohan. ChiChi’s in the hospital. She’s in labor.”

 “Labor?” Krillin rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Isn’t that soon?”

 The martial arts legend shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Half Saiyan baby pregnancies may be different.” He handed Krillin a piece a paper. “Here’s the hospital Gohan and ChiChi are at. Better get there fast.”

 Krillin took the paper and closed the door. He murmured a curse when he tripped on that same shoe. Grabbing his pants off the floor, Krillin shuffled his legs in.  

 In bed, 18 propped herself on her elbow. “Goku’s wife is in labor?”

 “Yeah. I’m gonna find out what’s going on.”

 “Want me to come?”  

 Krillin hesitated for a moment before he slipped his shirt over his head. “Don’t think that will be smart. No one knows about us except Master Roshi and the timing’s not right.”

 “Whose fault is that?” 18 didn’t hide the irritation in her voice.

 Here we go again. “It’s not like we’ve had a reunion recently.” Krillin defended himself. “Everyone’s gone back to their lives.” 18’s face spoke volumes. She didn’t approve of what Krillin said and if he didn’t fix this, he wasn’t touching her for a while. “Lazuli,” he spoke her real name to let her know he’s serious. “I’m not ashamed of us. We’ll tell everyone about us when the time is right.”

 Krillin moved in to kiss 18 but she turned her face away. “Wasn’t it five years before you saw Goku after he married?”

 Krillin touched 18’s chin and kissed her. “It won’t be five years before we all meet. I promise.” He gave her another kiss. “I’ll call you when I’m at the hospital.”

 Bulma stepped off the elevator to the maternity ward of the hospital. She spotted Krillin with Gohan and Gyu-Mao and picked up her pace. Like Krillin, she was awakened with a call from Gohan. She left Trunks with her parents and flew here. It wasn’t WuKong Hospital where Goku recovered after his fight with Vegeta but the closest one near Mount Paouz. It was smaller and too far from West City for her liking.

 “Gohan. How’s ChiChi?”

 “I don’t know.” The child was very worried. As soon as ChiChi was taken to be examined, Gohan called Gyu-Mao, Master Roshi and Bulma. “The doctor is with her.”

 “What happened?”

 “Mom called for me. She was on the floor in pain, crying the baby’s coming.” Gohan wouldn’t say he triggered this. The last thing he wanted was his father’s friends accusing him. “I got here as fast as I could.”

 “You did the right thing,” Bulma told him. “But it might be one of those false contractions. I had a few. It wasn’t this early but I was so high on drugs when I was in labor I hardly felt anything. Maybe the stress of Goku’s death still lingered in her pregnancy but why didn’t ChiChi take better care of herself so this didn’t happen?”

 “ChiChi took excellent care of herself,” Gyu-Mao defended his daughter. “ChiChi would never do anything to harm her child. She loves her children more than her own life.”

 “She lost her husband,” Krillin joined in the defense. “That’s a lot of stress. Give her a break, Bulma.”

 “I know. I know.” It was an observation. She wasn’t insulting and didn’t understand they saw it that way. “But she is pregnant with Goku’s kid. That’s why I thought ChiChi would be cautious and not let herself go into labor early. It’s not all her fault,” Bulma lamented. “ChiChi wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you, Krillin.”

 “Me?” Krillin pointed at himself. “How is this my fault?”

 “If you destroyed the remote, Goku wouldn’t have died and ChiChi wouldn’t have been so stressed about his death she put herself in the hospital.”

 Krillin balked at the insinuation. “You’re still blaming me?!”

Bulma crossed her arms as she stood her ground. “I don’t see anyone else to blame.”

 “How about that mass murderer you had a child with?!” Krillin fired back.

 “You’re blaming Vegeta?” Now Bulma was insulted.  

 “He let Cell reach perfect form. He fought his own son who tried to stop Cell. There never would’ve been a Cell Game if it wasn’t for Vegeta’s damn ego. If he and Trunks teamed up while Cell was imperfect, they would’ve killed Cell.”

 “It’s Vegeta!” Bulma yelled. “What else can you expect from a guy like him but you should’ve known better, Krillin! You’re the good guy or at least I thought you were when you weren’t thinking with your other head over someone not even a full human!”

 The remark about 18 stung. Secretly dating these months, Krillin got to know 18 very well. She didn’t share all of her past but what he knew, angered him, and if he weren’t determined to keep their relationship a secret, he would go in full-blown defense of her. Still, he couldn’t let Bulma get away with that strike against 18 without throwing up Bulma’s relationship with Vegeta. “So, because Vegeta isn’t ‘a good guy’ you excuse any dumbass thing he does? Gah!” Krillin threw his hands up. “You two are made for each other. Arrogant to the end but at least Vegeta eventually owns up to his mistakes!”

 Krillin talked back before but never like this. He never came at her so strongly. “You sure got a lot mouth on you. What’s going on with you?”

 “N-nothing,” Krillin stammered slightly, “but I’m tired of you constantly blaming me when we all know it was more than one person to blame for what happened at the Cell Game.”

 Gohan watched the bickering between his father’s friends in disbelief. Months later and they were still arguing whose fault this is. His father was dead and not coming back. His mother and baby brother were in danger and he blamed himself. He was haunted by the image of his mother crying in pain. Gohan called Grandpa and his Dad’s oldest friends hoping they will help. Grandpa did but all his father’s friends could do is argue with each other. They weren’t thinking of his family at all.

 Gohan felt rage boiling in him. Watching them argue was like watching his mother yell in the hospital over his decision to go to Namek. She kept screaming and didn’t want to listen or care how he felt about Piccolo. It was the same thing watching Bulma and Krillin argue with each other. They weren’t thinking about his mother or baby brother but only who to blame and Gohan was tired of it.

 “SHUT…. UP!!!” Gohan screamed. He was so loud Bulma and Krillin stopped arguing. Nurses looked up from their desk. People poked their heads out of their rooms to find the source of the yelling. “My mother and brother’s lives are in danger and all you two can think about is to find a person to blame! Blaming won’t bring my Dad back and it won’t help my Mom and brother! I wished I never called you!!”

 Not a sound passed as onlookers stared curiously at the two adults yelled at by a child. After the shock of Gohan yelling at them wore off, Bulma and Krillin’s faces turned red of embarrassment.

 It was Bulma who made the first move to apologize. “We’re frustrated, too, Gohan. This is our way of sorting it out.”

 “Find another way,” Gohan’s blunt tone stunned Bulma. He never spoke this way to her. He was always so well-mannered.

 Gyu-Mao stepped between the two and Gohan. “My grandson is right. This back and forth fighting does nothing. You fought at Goku’s memorial and you’re fighting now where his widow is in medical care to keep her and my grandson alive. Gohan called you because you’re Goku’s friends and thought you should know but if you can’t stop this petty fighting, then leave now before I throw you out.”

 Krillin took a step back and Bulma took a step back behind him.

 “Gohan!”

 Gohan turned to see Dr. Barkley rushing to him. He met her halfway. “My Mom….?”

 “Your Mom’s stabilized and we’re holding off as long as we can but your baby brother wants to come out. Your mother was three centimeters dilated when she came in. It’s five now and she’s going to be six centimeters soon.”

 Gohan understood some of that terminology. He read about it but not enough to fully understand. “But it’s too early. Mom should be nine months before she gives birth. If the baby’s born early then some things aren’t fully developed. Maybe it’s my brother’s lungs, his kidneys or his…..”

 “I understand your concerns,’ Dr. Barkley gently cut him off, “but you must remember you Mom’s not carrying a full-blooded human. You were born at nine months but you were more developed than any newborn I help birth. You acted like a two-month-old human baby at birth. If we take that into consideration, your brother may be born like a human newborn baby. Keep positive.”

 What she said made sense. That eased some of his worries. “I will.”

 “I’ve been through this once with your Mom. Your Dad’s not here but when she was in labor with you, Goku gave ChiChi some of his Ki. Can you do that?”

 “I can do that,” Gohan offered but doubt crept in him again, “but I don’t know how much.”

 Dr. Barkley secured an arm around Gohan as she walked them away. “You’ll know. Let’s go see your mother.”

 “Can we come?” Krillin asked.

 The smile on Dr. Barkley’s face fell at the expectant looks of Bulma and Krillin. She heard them arguing. “Sorry,” Dr. Barkley refused them. “ChiChi asked for Gohan and I saw your behavior. You’ll upset my patient.”

 Gohan looked at Gyu-Mao, thinking he will come. His grandpa declined. “Your Mom doesn’t know I’m here. Go talk to her. I’ll keep an eye on things here.” Gyu-Mao eyed Krillin and Bulma who both took another step back.

 When Gohan and Dr. Barkley left, Krillin sat in a chair farthest from Gyu-Mao. He couldn’t blame the doctor but Bulma was not happy at the refusal. “Who does she think she is? This isn’t West City but I can still make calls to the people on the board of this hospital.”

 Krillin sighed, “Bulma, just stop. With the way we were arguing, you can’t blame her for refusing us to see ChiChi.”

 Maybe he had a point but Bulma didn’t like it. She wasn’t one to be refused for anything and never so coldly. “I’ll let this pass,” Bulma accepted as she sat beside Krillin but there was one thing she wouldn’t let pass. “So….. who is she?”

 Krillin propped his elbow on the wooden chair arm. He rest his chin on his hand as he closed his eyes. It was almost two am and Krillin was tired. “Who?”

 “Who are you seeing?” Bulma asked. “You never talked to me that way before. You must be seeing someone to gain this confidence.” Krillin remained quiet but Bulma knew better. “You can pretend to sleep all you want but you know it’s true and I’ll keep talking until you tell me about her.”

 Krillin opened one eye. Bulma would keep pushing until she got the truth. She might even show up on Master Roshi’s island and meet 18 before he’s ready to introduce her to everyone. “I am seeing someone.” True. “It’s still new.” Lie.

 Bulma smirked. “I knew it. Is she cute? How did you meet her?”

 “She’s beautiful and I met her at work.”

 Bulma touched the short, black hair on Krillin’s head. It looked like a buzz cut. “And this has to be her influence, too. I didn’t know you could grow hair. I thought you were prematurely bald.”

 “I cut my hair because I was a fighter. One less way to be vulnerable.”

 “Was?” Bulma picked up the past tense.

 “I think it’s time I quit for good and settle down.” It was something Krillin thought about since Namek.  Spending time with 18 really settled it for him. “Goku’s sacrifice really makes ya think how short life is. I don’t wanna waste any more time.”

 “She’s that special and you won’t tell me about her? I’m insulted,” she dramatically feigned hurt. “I’m practically your big sister, Krillin.”

 Her guilt trip wasn’t working on him. “I don’t wanna jinx anything, Bulma.”

 “Fine,” Bulma huffed. “I won’t ask anymore but if it gets serious, I wanna meet her. Introduce her to all of us. I promise we’ll give her a better welcoming than we did ChiChi.”

 “Hope so.” Looking back, it was cringeworthy thinking how they all treated ChiChi when she married Goku. Bulma wanted to welcome 18 differently but Krillin knew when the day finally comes, it will be a disaster.

 “I’m surprised you work,” Bulma kept talking. “I thought you were on Master Roshi’s island doing nothing all these months.”

 “Not all of us are rich, Bulma. I did all types of odd jobs after the tournament before I worked regularly in security.”

 “You’re a rent a cop?” Bulma teased. “Why not do the real thing? You’d be the strongest cop on the force.”

 “I don’t feel that committed to law and order. Besides, I have more free time with this job.”

 Bulma smiled slyly. “And with that free time, you are seeing your girlfriend.” Bulma waited but Krillin didn’t answer. “You’re just like Yamcha. He won’t tell me about his girlfriend either.”

 “Well, exes usually don’t talk about who they are dating. Most exes don’t see each other. You and Yamcha are an anomaly.”

 “I guess you’re right.” Her and Yamcha’s situation was different but not uncommon. “It wasn’t always easy. Yamcha took our breakup hard and me being pregnant with Trunks even harder.”

 “Because he wanted a family with you and you didn’t with him but his mur---”

 “Point is,” Bulma cut him off, “Yamcha and I are in a better place now and are making it work. Just like me and Vegeta. We are proceeding with a relationship.”

 “He moved back in?” Krillin opened his eyes fully awake by this news. “You said he wasn’t living with you.”

 “Ancient history. He’s back. After being in a funk for a few months, Vegeta’s back to training, too.” An idea struck her. “After ChiChi has the baby, we all should get together. We shouldn’t let five years pass before we see each other. It’ll give us a chance to meet your girlfriend.”

 Oh, boy. Vegeta and 18 in the same room together. Krillin can see the mayhem.

 ****

 Gohan entered ChiChi’s room nervously. ChiChi wore a hospital gown, was hooked to machines and wore a strange belt over her belly. Each beep and chime increased his anxiety. ChiChi must’ve noticed his worry as she smiled and held her hand out to him. “I’m fine, Gohan.”

 Gohan didn’t believe that. He eyed one of the machines cautiously. “That is monitoring your Mom and brother’s heartbeats,” Dr. Barkley explained. “They’re good.”

 “If they were really good, Mom would be home and not here.” Gohan squeezed ChiChi’s hand. His hand illuminated as he transferred a little of his Ki to ChiChi. “I’ll make sure you have a healthy birth.”

 “Like your father,” ChiChi squeezed Gohan’s hand back. “Thank you but I might not need it. I don’t feel as drained as I did with you. When I have the baby, stay in the waiting room. You don’t need to see all of this.”

 “No,” Gohan refused. “I’m staying. Dad can’t be here so I will be in his place.”

 “Gohan, I know you’ve been through a lot, but you’re a child. You shouldn’t even be here now. Grandpa will be here with me.”

 “No!” Gohan would not be kicked out. “I survived living on my own for six months at four years old. I survived Namek when I was five. I saved the world from Cell months ago. I’m not too young for this!”

 Speechless, ChiChi looked at her doctor for help but she only shook her head. “Sorry, ChiChi. I agree with Gohan. We shouldn’t take any chances since this will not be a natural birth.”

 Outvoted, ChiChi shook her head slightly amused. “If it’s not Goku and you, it’s you and my doctor. I’m always outnumbered and have to give in, but I can’t with this. Gohan’s too young.”

 “It’s for your own good.” Dr. Barkley reached in the drawer by ChiChi’s bed. “Gohan, since you will be in here, there’s something you need to understand.”

 When ChiChi saw the wooden board in Dr. Barkley’s hands, her face turned bright pink. “Oh, no! Not that!”

 Gohan stared at the wooden chart. It was round with ten holes in different sizes. “What is that?”

 “This, Gohan, shows how your mother’s body is preparing for your baby brother to come out. You should be prepared if you have questions.”

 “Please put that away,” ChiChi requested. “Gohan’s too young for this.”

 “I am not,” Gohan protested. It was a chart with round holes in it. How can he be too young for that? “I know Mom has to push the baby out. I read that.” The books Gohan studied were very informative. This chart Dr. Barkley held was not something he read about. “But I never saw that in my books.”

 “Your mother is this size.” She pointed to the hole that’s five centimeters. Gohan’s eyes grew wide. His head didn’t turn but his eyes looked in his mother’s direction as he understood what Dr. Barkley meant. “When she is opened enough to be this size,” she pointed to the hole that’s ten centimeters, “she’ll be ready to push your brother out.”

 Gohan released his mother’s hand. He took the chart Dr. Barkley held out to him. He studied each hole. He pointed to the hole that’s ten centimeters. “I read the baby’s head comes out first.” This time Gohan looked at his mother alarmed. “You mean my brother….. I…..?! It stret……!”

 Dr. Barkley giggled. “He’s taking it better than Goku.”

 Though uncomfortable with Gohan learning all this, ChiChi couldn’t hold back her giggles as she thought of her late husband’s reaction. “Yes. Goku had a very different reaction.”

 “This should be the last checkup before your child is born. Any questions?”

 Goku had one. “Ya keep saying when ChiChi has the baby. How will ChiChi get the baby out?” He pointed to the monitor. “That baby looks big and ChiChi ain’t got any holes that big.”

 Dr. Barkley chuckled while ChiChi humorously rolled her eyes. “She will push the child out.”

 “Like poo?” Goku asked. “From her butt?” The idea horrified Goku. “Her butt hole’s gonna stretch that big?!!”

 Again the doctor laughed. “ChiChi will push the child out from where you entered to make the baby.”

 Dr. Barkley and ChiChi watched Goku’s eyes grow wide on his face to a horrific realization. “But ChiChi’s hole ain’t that big! It’s tight when I’m in there. How will the baby come out?”

 Dr. Barkley held up the dilation chart. “This is a dilation chart, Goku. When ChiChi’s in labor, her body will stretch in her vaginal area to prepare for the baby to come out. Over several hours, she will stretch from here,” she pointed to the circle that’s one centimeter, “to here.” She pointed to the circle that is ten centimeters. “When ChiChi’s at ten centimeters, her body is ready to push the child out.”

 Goku studied the different circle sizes on the chart. He looked at ChiChi and back at the chart. “It looks like it will hurt.”

 “Childbirth isn’t easy.” Dr. Barkley placed the chart back on the table. “It’s painful but the child is worth it.”

 Goku turned to ChiChi. “You didn’t say having a baby is painful, ChiChi. Why do this if it’s painful?”

 “It’s worth it, Goku. I promise you. Besides, you didn’t mind the pain in your fights.”

 “I guess you have a point.” Though Goku didn’t think it was the same. “But if ChiChi’s gonna get that big when she has a baby, what about after? I won’t be tight and warm in ChiChi anymore and I really like that feeling. It feels sooo good.”

 “Goku!” ChiChi blushed. “Don’t say that!”

 Goku didn’t see the issue in speaking to Dr. Barkley about their sex life. They’ve done it before. “We can talk about it with her, ChiChi. She’s seen you down there and told us we can still do it while you’re pregnant.”

 “Um,” Dr. Barkley cleared her throat. “Goku, ChiChi will return to normal down there but she has to heal after the baby’s born.”

 “Oh, yeah.” Thinking about the size ChiChi will stretch, that made sense. “I can get senzu beans for you, ChiChi. That’ll heal you up faster. We can have sex right after the baby’s born.”

 Now it was ChiChi’s eyes who expanded. “There’s no need for that. I’ll heal naturally.”

 That didn’t make sense to Goku but if that’s what ChiChi wanted. “How long will it take for you to heal?”

 “It’s usually two months,” Dr. Barkley answered.

 “WHAT?!” Goku screamed. “Two months?! But we ain’t done it in a month and ChiChi won’t let me put it behind her anymore until after the baby’s born.”

 “GOKU!” ChiChi screamed. Her face matched the colors of her red skirt. “Don’t talk about that with her!”

 The laughs of his Mom and Dr. Barkley left Gohan feeling he was left out of a joke or a fond memory of his father he wanted to be told about. “What happened? How did Dad react to it?”

 Dr. Barkley laughed even louder while ChiChi explained, “Your Dad was confused about the birthing process, Gohan, but he was there when it counted.”

 “You mean when he helped me be born?” Gohan heard about that. He was happy his Dad knew what to do and felt nervous to live up to that. After ChiChi gives birth, there will be two people he will be responsible for protecting. Not even a year since his father’s death and Gohan felt he failed to  protect his mother. A baby is even more vulnerable.

 How am I gonna do it? Can I really protect them both?

 “Where’s my Dad?” ChiChi asked unaware of Gohan’s troubles. “I know he’s out there.”

 “He’s in the waiting room with Krillin and Bulma.”

 “They’re here?” That surprised ChiChi.

 “I called them because I thought they should be here.” The earlier fighting still bothered him. “I made a mistake doing that.”

 “Why?”

 “They started arguing whose fault it is you’re like this and….” Gohan lowered his head. “We both know who that is.”

“Cell.” Dr. Barkley spoke as she placed the wooden chart back in the drawer. “Cell was the killer and nothing else matters. Maybe one of these days Goku’s friends will understand that.”

 They weren’t the only ones who needed to understand ChiChi thought as she noticed Gohan’s troubled expression.

 “Dr. Barkley, let Krillin, Bulma and my father know I’m well and they can visit but I need to talk to Gohan alone first.”

 “All right,” Dr. Barkley didn’t agree with ChiChi’s decision, “but if they argue again I will have security kick them out of the hospital. Remember what happened at Gohan’s birth with that old woman and her grandson,” she warned before leaving.

 ChiChi would never forget what happened but she wished Dr. Barkley didn’t say that in front of Gohan. She saw the curiosity forming on his face. With the way he has been with her lately, she knew Gohan will question it.

 “What happened when I was born, Mom?”

 Gohan knew of Mrs. Niver and Kaifun dislike for Goku. If he knew what happened the day of his birth… “Gohan, it was handled. I want to talk about why you feel my condition is your fault.”

 “Because it is.”

 “Because it’s not,” ChiChi corrected him. “You always listened to your Dad, Gohan. I knew whatever happened that day, you would be the one person to not do anything to cause his death and when you told me what you did…. it shocked me.”

 Months later and he still can’t believe what he did. He never thought his actions would lead his father to sacrifice himself. “I know. I never planned to tell you but it came out and I’m sorry. I know you hate me. I know you’re only tolerating me because you’re staying calm for the baby.”

 Gohan was a sweet child but he had his moods which led him to misconstrue facts, and in his own frustration, make false accusations. “You saw my grief more than anyone. I know you didn’t mean to do what you did but it happened and it hurt me.”

 Gohan knew that but he was frustrated, too. When he cried, his parents comforted him. When he needed comfort after his father’s sacrifice, his father’s voice calmed him. When he confessed to his mother his part in his father dying, Gohan expected his mother to comfort him. He didn’t like she pulled away as if rejecting him. “You kept moving away from me when I kept apologizing. I thought you hated me and wanted to kick me out.”

 If not for the gravity of the situation, ChiChi would smile. Her son had a lot of her ways, too, and when he’s emotional, he’s blinded. ChiChi patted a spot on her bed for Gohan to sit down. When he did, he leaned on ChiChi’s shoulder. “My reaction didn’t mean I hate you, Gohan. I could never hate you but I couldn’t comfort you either. You had months to wrestle with this decision. I only had moments to deal with it before you wanted me to forgive you. I’m always willing to sacrifice my needs and feelings for you and Goku but last night, I couldn’t. Call me selfish but I need time to process this.”

 Calmer with a clearer mind, Gohan felt guilty for his behavior. “You’re not selfish, Mom. I told you something I knew would hurt you but I couldn’t hold the guilt in anymore. I was selfish.” Gohan embraced ChiChi. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have begged you to forgive me. I should’ve given you time. I’m ready to do that.”

 ChiChi’s arms wrapped around Gohan. This was her kindhearted son. “Thank you, Gohan.”

 ****

 Gohan was by ChiChi’s side as she let out another scream. Gohan wiped her sweaty forehead. “You’re doing great, Mom.”

 It was after dawn when ChiChi was ready to deliver her second child.  Krillin and Bulma visited but left, promising to return when she gave birth. Gyu-Mao stayed but paced in the waiting room.

 “His head and shoulders are out. He has a lot of hair!” Dr. Barkley laughed. She glanced at ChiChi’s biometrics on a monitor. “Your body is handling this birth much better than Gohan’s.”

 This news excited Gohan. “He’s almost here, Mom.”

 “I need another push, ChiChi,” Dr. Barkley urged. “Give me a really big one.”

 “Oh….. okay.” ChiChi squeezed Gohan’s hand screaming while giving a strong push.

 “Good. Good!” Dr. Barkley cheered. “He’s out to his hips. Take a moment and get ready for one more push. He’s almost out.”

 “One more….” ChiChi panted. “One more….”

 “You can do it, Mom,” Gohan encouraged her. “Let’s make our family three again.”

 Three. That was a nice thought. If they couldn’t be a family of four, ChiChi happily settled for a family of three. ChiChi screamed one final, big push. It was sweet relief feeling the heavy load she carried for months leaving her body. It was even sweeter when that load announced itself to the world in a beautiful cry. ChiChi’s eyes moistened with tears. Her and Goku’s last child was finally here.

 Gohan eased ChiChi to rest against the pillows. The sweet sounds of her baby crying was joyful and until she noticed Dr. Barkley acting odd. When Gohan was born, Dr. Barkley held up Gohan for her and Goku to see. This time, Dr. Barkley held her baby in a way he was shielded from her view.  ChiChi felt something was dreadfully wrong.  “What is it?” ChiChi asked worriedly. “What’s wrong with my baby?”

 Dr. Barkley stared at the child and back to Gohan and ChiChi. “The baby’s fine, ChiChi. It’s just…… he….”

 “He what?” ChiChi demanded. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

 “We need to know,” Gohan, worried too, pleaded. Whatever it is, I will fix it.

 Dr. Barkley approached ChiChi. The child’s appearance became clear to mother and big brother as the doctor revealed the child. “It’s ….. the baby looks like Goku.”

 ChiChi and Gohan were awed in silence at the child’s similarity to Goku. Seeing the resemblance of his father in his brother filled Gohan with immense pleasure but an equal amount of guilt.  Dr. Barkley placed the baby on ChiChi’s stomach. She wiped the crying child clean before cutting the umbilical cord. She carried the baby to the other side of the room where she gave the child a thorough physical exam with her instruments and machines all under Gohan and ChiChi’s watchful eyes.  

 “He’s so beautiful,” ChiChi murmured with watery eyes.

 Dr. Barkley returned holding the baby wrapped in a blue blanket. “He’s a little different from Gohan,” she informed ChiChi as she placed the child in her arms.

 “How so?”

 “When Gohan was born, he could move his head at will. This child is like a human newborn baby. You have to hold his head. I guess,” Dr. Barkley explained, “it’s because he’s early but he’s still healthy as a newborn human. He responded to all the tests and everything is fully developed.”

 ChiChi murmured ‘okay’ as she gently held her newborn. The baby’s tired eyes stared at ChiChi as she placed a kiss on his forehead. “Hello…. Goten.”

 “Goten?” Gohan marveled at the name as he couldn’t stop grinning at the baby. “You didn’t tell me you had a name picked.”

 ChiChi nuzzled her face against Goten’s cheek tenderly. “There were two I was stuck on. When I learned I was having another boy, I wanted something close to Goku’s name. Goku’s in heaven protecting us but he’s still with us, and when I saw this sweet baby’s face, I knew. I have to name him Goten.”

 Gohan touched Goten’s soft and wet hair. The spikes in his hair were short but in a distinctive style. Just like Dad’s.

 “He’s not like you,” ChiChi softly chuckled at Goten closing his eyes.

 “What do you mean?”

 “When you were born, your eyes were wide open. You were constantly looking around. Goten is content to rest. He’s like Goku. He could sleep anywhere and not care what’s going on.” ChiChi shifted slightly. “Wanna hold him?”

 Slight trepidation rose in Gohan. He’s held babies before but they were much older. “I never held a newborn.”

 “You held Aki’s child.”

 “She wasn’t a newborn.”

 “He’s your brother,” ChiChi insisted. “You won’t hurt him.” ChiChi gently eased Goten in Gohan’s arms. “Careful with his head.” She adjusted Gohan’s arm slightly to elevate Goten’s head.

 The gentle exchange stirred Goten to open his eyes again. He gazed at Gohan in slight wonder. A lump formed in Gohan’s throat at the innocence of his baby brother staring at him. For a brief moment, he saw his father’s smiling face staring back.

 “Talk to him,” ChiChi encouraged Gohan. “Let him hear your voice.”

 “Hi, Goten. I’m your brother, Gohan. We’re gonna have a lot of fun together.” Gohan’s eyes mist as he thought of his father and what they did together. A strong need to protect and make sure Goten experience all the fun things he did with his father stirred in him. “I’m gonna take you fishing. I’m gonna take you camping and I will always protect you.”

 Holding Goten, Gohan felt all the pressure and stress he held since he brought his mother to the hospital lift. Now he knew mother and brother were all right, he could relax.

 Gohan’s stomach growled…. loudly.

 And eat.

 “Have you eaten?” ChiChi tiredly asked.

 “No,” Gohan admitted with a blush on his cheeks. “I’ve been too worried about you and Goten to eat. I don’t have any money either.”

 ChiChi gently took Goten from Gohan’s arms. “Grandpa does. Tell him about his grandson and go eat.”

 He didn’t need to be told twice. After being awake all night, waiting, worrying and helping with the birth of Goten, hunger and fatigue was settling in.  

 After telling Gyu-Mao about Goten and getting money for food, Gohan called Krillin and Bulma before going to the hospital’s food court. He was so hungry, he got food from every restaurant. When he left, his arms loaded with hot bags of food from all the food courts. While waiting for the elevator to open, Gohan heard his name called.

 “Gohan?”

 Gohan turned to see Kaifun and Mrs. Niver approaching. Why were they here?

 “I thought that was you,” Kaifun smiled but Gohan remained on guard. “What are you doing…..” Kaifun trailed off suddenly. “Is ChiChi okay?”

 “Mom gave birth.” Gohan answered curtly and asked, “Why are you here?”

 “Already?” Kaifun appeared concerned but after what Gohan learned about Kaifun’s history with his parents, Gohan didn’t trust him. “This is early. Are she and the baby okay?”

 “They’re fine,” Gohan was clipped again. “Why are you here?” he repeated.

 “Hmmph!” Mrs. Niver scoffed. “You’re being very rude. I thought without your father you would have better manners.”

 “My manners have nothing to do with my father.”

 “That’s true,” Mrs. Niver agreed. “What manners you did develop, you got from your mother. Your father never had any.”

 “Grandma,” Kaifun hushed Mrs. Niver. “Stop that.” Kaifun felt his face flush with embarrassment. Not even Goku’s death softened her feelings for him. “Grandma needs a procedure done, Gohan. She’s getting a pacemaker and she’s a bit grumpy. Forgive her.”

 The elevator doors opened. “I need to go. Goodbye.”

 Gohan stepped in the elevator and pressed the floor for maternity and much to Gohan’s displeasure, Kaifun and Mrs. Niver entered the elevator, too. “We should see ChiChi before we check you in, Grandma.”

 The two of them in the same room with his mother and brother? The thought turned Gohan’s stomach. “That’s not needed. You should check Mrs. Niver in now.”

 “We’re early,” Kaifun ruffled Gohan’s hair playfully. Gohan stepped out of Kaifun’s reach. Gohan’s subtle rejection went unnoticed as Kaifun bragged, “You don’t know this but we saw you the day you were born, Gohan. Kind of makes sense for us to be here to see ChiChi’s second child.”

 His mother’s second….. The lack of acknowledging his father wasn’t lost on Gohan. “It’s my father’s child, too.”

 This time Kaifun noticed something different about Gohan. Gohan was always so well-mannered around him. What changed? He hoped ChiChi didn’t tell Gohan what he and his grandmother have done to her and Goku in the past.

 “Hmm,” Mrs. Niver sucked her false teeth. “Last I saw you it was at your father’s wake. You didn’t have this attitude then. Is this a result of him being gone?”

 Remember what happened at Gohan’s birth with that old woman and her grandson.

 The bags of food nearly slipped out of his arms. Dr. Barkley referenced them. Kaifun and Mrs. Niver saw him at his birth and something happened. Something bad that upset his mother. If they thought they will upset his mother the day of his brother’s birth…….

 “I know you saw me the day I was born,” Gohan told them. “It wasn’t a happy occasion.” There! Gohan saw the change in demeanor…. from Kaifun. Mrs. Niver still wore the same grumpy face.

 “Oh….” Kaifun looked nervous. “You know.” Now he understood Gohan’s annoyance with him, Kaifun wanted to explain himself. “Grandma was wrong calling you deformed and she shouldn’t have said Goku is a mixed breed of a human and animal but she paid for that. I know it upset your Mom and the King but we moved past that.” The elevator opened. “Let’s see your Mom and send good wishes to her and her baby.”

 Kaifun had one foot out the elevator when Gohan grabbed his arm and pulled him back in. Kaifun tried to pull away but Gohan’s grip kept him in place. How was this child so strong? If he squeezed any tighter, his wrist might break. The anger in Gohan’s eyes concerned Kaifun. The last he saw that was years ago when he and Goku talked. ChiChi was pregnant with Gohan and Goku was very irritable and warned him to stay away from ChiChi.

 “Your grandmother called me deformed, insulted my father in front of my mother the day I was born. Do you think I’m going to let you two see my baby brother on the day of his birth?”

 “Gohan….” Kaifun pleaded. This child will break his arm. “Ah… you’re hurting me.”

 “You’re not going near my mother and brother!”

 “What’s the matter with you?” Kaifun crumpled to his knees under Gohan’s strength. The elevator closed. Mrs. Niver put her hand on Gohan and pulled. When her feeble strength couldn’t break Gohan’s hold, she smacked him with her purse. “Let go of my grandson!”

 During the struggle, the three didn’t notice the elevator going up until it opened. Two nurses stared at a man on his knees crying in pain under the strength of a child who was getting smacked by an old woman using her purse.

 Gohan immediately released Kaifun and Mrs. Niver stopped hitting him. Kaifun remained on his knees gripping his wrist. “Why did you do that?”

 The elevator began moving down under its own power. Gohan didn’t notice as he focused on Kaifun. “You want to see my mother and brother. I won’t let you.”

 The elevator opened on the maternity floor but no one pressed the button to that floor. All three were surprised to see Gyu-Mao on the other side.

 “Grandpa?”

 “Your Majesty,” Kaifun winced as he slowly stood.

 Gyu-Mao stared at all three confused. “What’s going on?”

 “Grandpa.” Gohan stepped off the elevator. “Why are you not with Mom and Goten?”

 “ChiChi had to feed Goten. I made some calls and I was going to join you in the food court.” Gyu-Mao noticed Kaifun and Mrs. Niver stepping off the elevator, too. “What are you two doing here?”

 “Grandma’s having a pacemaker put in. We saw Gohan and came up to see ChiChi and the baby.”

 “Only he tried to stop us!” Mrs. Niver pointed at Gohan. “He almost broke Kaifun’s wrist!”

 Gyu-Mao noticed Kaifun still rubbing his wrist. Gohan didn’t defend himself so Gyu-Mao surmised the accusations were true. “If Gohan did it, he must’ve had a reason. Gohan? Wanna tell Grandpa what happened?”

 The glare Gohan sent Kaifun and Mrs. Niver forced Kaifun to take a step back. “I know what happened the day I was born. I didn’t want them to see Mom and Goten.”

 Gyu-Mao was proud. The boy definitely had his father in him. “You’re protective. Just like your Pops. Don’t worry, Gohan. They can see them.” Gyu-Mao smiled at Kaifun and Mrs. Niver but his intense eyes signaled a silent threat to them. “They wouldn’t dare repeat what happen the day you were born. Come on,” Gyu-Mao led everyone to ChiChi’s room. “Let’s see ChiChi and my grandson.”

 Unaware of the drama, ChiChi enjoyed private time with Goten. “So, you’re here. A little early but you’re here.” Goten quietly nursed from ChiChi. “I should’ve expected that. Your Daddy wasn’t patient either when he really wanted something. I wish your Daddy can see you. He would’ve been eager to hold you.”

 ChiChi caressed a plumped cheek. “Daddy’s not here, Goten, but I’ll do my best to love you for both of us. Gohan and I will do things Daddy would do with you. We’ll take you fishing. We’ll take you camping. We’ll…..” she paused suddenly overwhelmed, “….. we’ll even train you. Well, maybe Gohan will train you. He’s probably the best person since he knows Daddy’s skills and I want you to be as strong as possible because it’s what your Daddy will want.” During her talk, Goten fell asleep again. ChiChi pulled him from her breast. “And when you see Daddy in heaven, you can tell him how strong you became.”

 ChiChi covered herself when she heard a light tap on her door. “ChiChi, are you still feeding?”

 “I’m done, Dad.”

 “I have some company.”

 “Krillin and Bulma are back?”

 “No, not them.” Gyu-Mao stepped in with Gohan close behind him. Lagging behind Gohan were Kaifun and Mrs. Niver.

 Color drained from ChiChi’s face. Her mind flashed to the day of Gohan’s birth. She remembered Mrs. Niver’s cold insult; the screaming from her father; baby Gohan crying. She instinctively pulled Goten closer.

 “I didn’t want them here,” Gohan announced as he placed his bags of food on a table, “but Grandpa said it’s okay.”

 “Mrs. Niver is having a pacemaker put in but she and Kaifun want to see the baby. I said it’s all right.” Gyu-Mao saw ChiChi’s worry. “I think they want to make up for what they did when Gohan was born.”

 “It’s true,” Kaifun put in. “We just want to see the baby, wish you well and be on our way.”

 ChiChi noticed the glare on Gohan’s face and the smile on her father’s. Two different responses but Gohan’s was most concerning. “All right,” she reluctantly gave in.

 Kaifun stepped forward. When he saw Goten’s face, color drained from his face. I don’t believe it. “He’s…..” Kaifun began slowly, “he’s beautiful. He looks so strong and healthy being early.” He looks just like Goku.

 Kaifun’s pale face brought a little satisfaction to ChiChi as she proudly declared, “Goten’s strong like his Daddy. He’s inherited a lot from him.”

 “Obviously,” Kaifun murmured.

 Mrs. Niver stepped forward curious herself. When she saw Goten’s face, the color drained from her face, too. “No…..” she murmured shaking her head. “No. His face……” Mrs. Niver stepped back. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. “It’s like……. it’s like…..” Sweat perspired on her face, the air in the room thickened and her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

 “Grandma? Are you all right?”

 The old woman clutched her chest as she stumbled backward out the door. “Air….. I need… air..”

 “Grandma!” Kaifun chased after the old woman. He found her leaning against the wall clutching her chest. “Grandma!” he worriedly clutched her shoulders. “Are you having a heart attack?”

“He’s come back from the grave.”

 Kaifun’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who did?”

 “That….. waste of ….. sperm. Goku.” She was hyperventilating now. “I thought we were finally rid of him…..” She squeezed her hand over her chest, “but he’s come back to haunt us again!”

 Goten’s face was a shock but Kaifun didn’t think Goku was haunting them. “I don’t think he’s haunting anyone.”

 “That child is the spitting image of Goku. Children resemble their parents but this is ridiculous!” Mrs. Niver groaned frustrated. “What did I do to become so cursed? He’s probably in Hell laughing at us.”

 ****

 “Mmm! Ahhh!” ChiChi cried out with her face turned on a pillow. She bit her lip. She had to keep quiet. She couldn’t be as loud as before.

 But Goku’s mouth was so good and she needed this after so long. It was the first coupling since their baby’s birth. She and Goku were both eager for this night. Goku was ready more than her. All day he couldn’t resist touching and rubbing against her in anticipation.

 A leg wrapped around Goku’s back at her eager cry. She was close now. Biting her lip, ChiChi tried to subdue herself but Goku’s loving mouth and tongue, ultimately forced a loud cry to burst from her lips while her body convulsed.

 Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she recovered. She felt movement as Goku rose from between her legs. He licked his lips as she tried to catch her breath. “I think you taste even better, ChiChi.”

 Goku spread her wider as he pinned her left leg back and hooked her right leg over his shoulder. Her martial arts training always kept her body in great shape and helped her recover post-pregnancy. Still, Goku knew he had to be careful and patient for their first time. He was extra attentive preparing her body moments ago as he slowly eased himself into her.

 A sweet sigh escaped her lips as Goku stretched her insides. There was a slight pain but it was worth it to feel this again. “I missed this.”

 “You?” Goku groaned over her. “I missed it more than you.”

 ChiChi gripped a muscled pec as Goku filled her completely. “Really? Why don’t you show me?” Goku answered moving in her slow then….. fast.

 “Ah, you’re still so tight,” Goku gritted through thrusts. “Feels….. good.”

 “So…..” she gasped as Goku moved in and out of her. “….. do you.” Wrapping an arm around his neck, ChiChi pulled him closer for a kiss. The rhythm of their body was out of sync due to the break of the last month of her pregnancy and adjusting to life with a baby but with each thrust, each gasp and groan they were working their way back.

 Their coupling was perfect until the sound of a baby crying broke through the baby monitor. ChiChi tried to pretend it wasn’t true but the cry persisted. Goku was unaware as he continued to move in and out of her. ChiChi pressed her hands on Goku’s chest and pulled from his lips.

 “Wait. Stop, Goku.” ChiChi squeezed his chest harder. This ceased Goku’s movement. “The baby’s crying. Gohan needs me.”

 “Baby? Gohan?” Goku repeated confused. “ChiChi, Gohan’s ten. It’s Goten crying for you.”

 “Goten?” ChiChi saw a baby crib by the window. ChiChi got out of bed and went to the crib. Inside wasn’t baby Gohan but a baby resembling Goku. She turned to her bed to see Goku disappearing.  

 ChiChi’s eyes opened to darkness. Her ears nearly burned at baby Goten crying.

 It was only a dream.

 Goten cried even louder but ChiChi rolled on her side and stared at the empty, cold side of the bed left vacant by Goku.  

 ChiChi, Gohan and Goten returned home after two days in the hospital. After visits from Krillin, Bulma and Trunks, Aki and his family, ChiChi made it clear she wanted these first months to be a bonding time for her family. Only Gyu-Mao regularly visited as ChiChi and Gohan adjusted to a baby in the house.

 ChiChi turned on the lamp and shuffled across the room to Goten’s crib. “Mommy’s here, Goten.” ChiChi felt the problem as soon as she picked up Goten. She placed her son on her former sewing desk that became a changing area.

 “I should be mad at you. You took Mommy from a pleasant dream with Daddy.” She removed the soiled diaper. As she wiped Goten clean, she said, “But I can’t be mad at you. You’re our special baby. You’re the child we thought about making before Daddy died before his reunion. You’re the child we put on hold when Daddy came back after his fight with Freeza. We talked about having you for years. When Daddy died, I didn’t think it will happen but you are proof we were meant to have a second child.”

 With a fresh diaper on him, ChiChi fed Goten but being a half Saiyan, he drunk milk faster than her body could produce. He cried out of hunger as ChiChi carried him to the kitchen. To her surprise, she saw Gohan pouring milk formula into bottles.

 “Gohan, it’s after two a.m. You should be sleeping.”

 “I woke up.”

 “Goten?”

 Gohan shook his head as he squirted milk on his left wrist. “I went to bed early and I work up early.” He tested the milk. He handed the bottle to ChiChi. “It’s warm enough for Goten.”

 ChiChi took the bottle and fed Goten. She appreciated the help but didn’t want Gohan to do this. “You do this when you’re a father, Gohan. Not a big brother. Go to bed.”

 Gohan didn’t listen as he cleaned the dishes. “Did you get up a lot with me?”

 “It wasn’t only me,” ChiChi said as she settled in a chair at the kitchen table. “Your Dad got up, too.”

“Really?”

 “Dad didn’t always sleep when I checked on you. Sometimes he went with me or he brought you to me.” She chuckled at a sudden memory. “Our first night alone with you, Dad jumped out of bed and zoomed out of our room when you cried.”

 Gohan laughed. “Really?”

 ChiChi giggled. “We spent a few days with Grandpa before we took you home. His staff helped us but we were both nervous the first night we were alone with you.” Goten finished drinking a bottle. Gohan gave ChiChi another one while he cleaned the used one.  

 Despite wanting Gohan to go to bed, his kindness and willingness to help was appreciated and reminded ChiChi of Goku helping when Gohan was a baby.

 ChiChi had three bottles in a pot of hot water. Some days she produced enough milk for Gohan and some days she couldn’t. Dr. Barkley assured ChiChi the amount of milk she produced was normal. It was Gohan who had an extra appetite. Sometimes ChiChi felt the doctor knew there was another reason but wasn’t telling her. Dr. Barkley told her what Goku can do as a father to stimulate more milk. When ChiChi told him this, Goku was eager to help.

 “Gohan still hungry?”

 ChiChi saw Goku standing in the doorway. “Sorry Gohan woke you.”

 Goku yawned as he stepped into the kitchen. “Guess that’s my fault. Gohan eats like me.”

 “Don’t I know it,” ChiChi yawned as she paced with a crying Gohan. “Gohan emptied me but he’s still hungry. I didn’t produce enough milk for this feeding. Maybe in the morning, I’ll have enough. I’ll……” she paused when she felt Goku’s hand on her right breast. “Goku.”

 Goku wiggled his eyebrows at her as he gave her breast a gentle squeeze. “When Gohan goes to sleep, I’ll help you.” He sealed this promise with a kiss before taking Gohan out of her arms. He bounced his baby boy in his arms as ChiChi tested a bottle on her wrist. “Are the bottles ready?”

 ChiChi licked the warm milk on her wrist. “Yes.” ChiChi reached to take Gohan out of Goku’s arms but he took the bottle out of her hand. “I’ll watch Gohan. Go to bed.”

 “But…..” ChiChi hesitated.

 “You played with Gohan all day.” He grinned. “It’s my turn.”

 ChiChi thought to protest but changed her mind. Goku spent most of the day working on Mr. Olitz’s farm. When he came home, Gohan was already sleeping. “All right.” ChiChi left. She returned to her bedroom but before she climbed in bed, she wondered about Goku and if he can really handle Gohan. He was fussier and more active now. It might be too much for Goku.

 ChiChi quietly returned to the living room. There, she saw Goku sitting on the sofa feeding Gohan his bottle. “Ya just like your Pops. Eat like me; got a tail like me; got my eyes but I see some of Mommy, too.”

 Goku put down the empty bottle and reached for another one. “Full?” Goku rubbed the bottle’s nipple around Gohan’s mouth. He turned his head. Goku put the bottle down. “You’ll be hungry in another hour like me.” Goku stood and rubbed Gohan’s back while pacing the room.

 “Kind of wild you’re mine, Gohan. I never thought about being a Daddy. Bulma has a Daddy. I saw Daddies when I traveled but I never pictured that for me.” Gohan rested his head on his Daddy’s shoulder. The way he looked at Goku it was as if he understood his words. “I didn’t think about the future except fighting and winning the tournament. Good thing Mommy found me and reminded me of our promise.”

 ChiChi noticed Goku grinning. Was he thinking about them meeting again? “Sometimes I think of what would’ve happened if Mommy didn’t find me. I think I would’ve come back here. I’d be happy…… but not like now.” Gohan released a small belch. ChiChi shook her head as Goku looked over his shoulder. “Oops. Forgot that bib thing.”

 Goku lifted a giggling Gohan over his head. “You like spitting on Daddy?” Gohan answered with a laugh. “I forgive ya. I’ll probably forgive ya for anything.” Gohan squealed as Goku raised him higher. “Grandpa told me he’ll forgive me for anything, too.” ChiChi worried over Goku flying Gohan over his head. Gohan may spit up even more. Goku realized that, too. He lowered Gohan but held him close. As she watched the two, ChiChi noticed a change on Goku’s face. He smiled as always but he stared at Gohan for a very long moment. Gohan reached out to touch Goku’s face. His tiny hand touched Goku’s nose, his cheek and lips before the child suddenly stopped to stare at him. It was as if father and son were silently communicating with each other.

  “Grandpa said something to me I wanna say to you.” Goku embraced Gohan tenderly against his chest. “Gohan, I’m so happy you’re mine.”

 ChiChi turned away with a hand over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she returned to her bedroom to give Goku private time with Gohan.

 “Yup. Your Dad was very helpful.” ChiChi settled Goten’s head on her shoulder and patted his back gently. “But, Gohan, this is my responsibility. They’ll be plenty of time for you to do this when you’re a Daddy. Go to bed.”

 “I just want to help.”

 “You did. I appreciate this but this isn’t your job.”

 “Okay,” Gohan gave in. Everything was clean anyway. “Good night, Mom.” Gohan patted Goten’s head. “Good night, Goten.”

 When Gohan left, ChiChi gazed at the ceiling. Goten’s cooing warmed her heart but ChiChi burst with pride thinking of Gohan. “We did a good job with Gohan, Goku. You’re not here but look after me as I care for Goten and try to do a good job with him.”

 ****

 “That fight with Olibu was tougher than I thought it would be.” Goku rubbed a shoulder. “But I got him.”

 “He’s improved since he died,” King Kai complimented as he walked alongside Goku. “Imagine how much stronger you will be after a thousand years.”

 “He’s a good fighter,” Goku praised the blonde warrior. “But he talks so much. He asked so many questions about Earth.”

 “He’s from Earth, Goku, and you’re the first Earthling he’s spoken to in a while. Olibu spends most of his time on the Grand Kai’s planet. I think the last Earthling he’s seen is Master Mutaito and he spends most of his time here with non-warriors.”

 They were in the part of Heaven where good people who weren’t fighters resided. It was King Kai’s idea for Goku to split his time into different parts of Heaven. “This place is huge. I don’t think I will ever reach its limits.”

 “That’s because there are no limits,” King Kai reminded him. “This place is home of the dead for thousands of years and all planets in the galaxy.”

 Goku and King Kai stopped to allow a group of flowing spirits to pass them. “I haven’t seen any Saiyans.”

 “Goku, your race didn’t have a reputation for being good people. They are in Hell or their spirits have been reincarnated.”

 “Like my parents?” In a rare moment of awkwardness, Goku appeared uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I probably couldn’t see them, but after meeting Grandpa again…… I just thought……”

 “They were reincarnated many years ago.”

 “I thought so.” Goku wasn’t surprised but there was disappointment in his voice. “I know I shouldn’t have expected them to be… but I thought since I’m dead……” he trailed off as something caught his eyes.

 King Kai continued walking unaware he left Goku. “Nothing wrong with wondering, Goku. I would’ve been concerned if you didn’t ask. There’s a transition everyone experiences after they die. Just like the living has to get used to their loved ones being dead, the dead has to get used to not being around the living. The first time you died you didn’t think about this since you knew you were going back, but this time it’s permanent and I know you weren’t thinking of leaving so soon.”

 King Kai’s sage words were met with silence. Looking around, he noticed Goku wasn’t beside him. Goku stared at a couple. Returning to Goku’s side, King Kai tried to understand what about this couple caught Goku’s interest. The man wore a dark suit and the woman wore a white dress.  

 “They look like Earthlings,” King Kai remarked. “Did you know them, Goku?”

 “No…….” Goku continued staring. “But they died on their wedding day.”

 “Wedding?” King Kai repeated. “Oh, that’s the bonding ceremony for humans. Death claims anybody at anytime, Goku.”

 “The woman has a bun in her hair like ChiChi.” The woman’s dress reminded him of ChiChi’s, too. Goku heard King Kai talking but his mind traveled to his wedding day.

 “Do you like being married, Goku?” ChiChi and Goku soared on Nimbus after saying goodbye to everyone. The fun wedding was over and it was time for their honeymoon to start. With the time they spent before this day, Goku had an idea of what will happen alone with ChiChi and looked forward to it.

 Since their “I do’s”, Goku and ChiChi were caught up in a whirlwind of activity: taking pictures together and with guests, talking to guests (ChiChi did most of that), eating (Goku did most of that) and dancing.  

 So far, Goku liked being married. “It hasn’t been long but I like it. I didn’t know we had to talk to so many people.”

 “That’s what happens at a wedding. So many people come together to celebrate the start of our lives.”

 “Start of our lives?”

 “Yes, Goku. After today, we’ll spend a lot of time alone.” ChiChi nuzzled her nose against his neck. “We’ll get to know each other even more. We’ll do many things together. We’ll have children, grandchildren and grow old together.”

 Goku’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a lot.” And some of it he didn’t understand like the children part, but if ChiChi was willing to show him, he was willing to try.

 ****

 “Eat some more carrots,” Goku dipped a spoonful of mashed carrots in a baby jar of smashed apples. “And apples, Gohan.” He brought the spoon to Gohan’s lips. His baby boy obediently opened his mouth to receive the food. “That’s a good boy. This food will make you big and strong like me.”

 ChiChi placed lunch dishes for her and Goku on the table. “Smells good.” Goku opened his mouth as ChiChi held a spoonful of food for him.

 He turned away to feed Gohan. While Gohan chewed his food, Goku got fed by ChiChi again. ChiChi took a moment to feed herself and Goku before he fed Gohan. The three tried to stay in sync with eating but food spilled on Goku and Gohan. Most of the food was eaten but Gohan was sloppier than him when lunch was over.

 “Gohan’s a mess,” ChiChi frowned at Gohan’s food covered face as she gathered the empty dishes. “I think you got more food on Gohan’s clothes than his mouth.”

 “He ate enough.” Goku pulled Gohan out of his highchair. “He ain’t crying so he ain’t hungry.”

 “I suppose,” ChiChi weakly agreed as she placed the dishes in the hot sink. “I’ll bathe Gohan while the dishes soak.”

 “Imma give me and Gohan a bath, ChiChi,” Goku told her. He was almost out of the room when ChiChi asked him, “You’re happy, aren’t you, Goku?”

 “Hmm?”

 “Happy,” ChiChi repeated. “On our wedding day, I asked if you like being married. You said it was still early but you liked it so far.”

 “I still meant it. I like it even more now I understand.” He made a silly face at Gohan who burst into giggles. “If I didn’t marry you, we wouldn’t have Gohan. I’m glad you came back in my life.”

 ChiChi came to Goku’s side. She pressed a kiss on Gohan’s cheek. “I’m glad, too.”

 “So, why did you ask if I am happy?” Now Goku was curious.

ChiChi shrugged. “I know you’ve been used to fighting all your life. I wasn’t sure how settling down made you.”

 “Oh.” Now he understood. Sort of. “Well, I like fighting but this is fun, too, and I kinda wanted a break.” Since his encounter with the Red Ribbon Army, all Goku did was fight. He only meant to collect his Grandpa’s four-star dragon ball but it spiraled into him taking down the Red Ribbon Army with no break in between to prepare for the next tournament. “Before we married, it was years before I relaxed and not fight for something or prepare for one. I’m glad to take it easy and do other things. I’ll get another fight soon, but I’m happy with life now.”

“And it’ll be long life now there’s peace in the world, Goku. We’ll get to see our son grow up in peace, marry and have grandkids for us to play with.”

 Goku and ChiChi had three more years before their family life spiraled where they were separated for two years. In the last three years, the family was together but Piccolo lived with them. It wasn’t the same. Their lives were forced on hold. Their plans to expand their family was put on hold. Goku thought they will have time after the Artificial Humans were defeated but it wasn’t until the days before the Cell Game Goku realized how much time was wasted.

 “Goku?”

 His teacher knew him enough to understand the emotions churning in him and Goku didn’t want to share it. There was one he wanted to share his emotions with but she wouldn’t be here for a long time.

 “I’m fine, King Kai.”

 “The transition will pass,” the Lord of the North promised. “It’s a process you have to go through.”

 “I know.” He understood. He was dead. He can’t go back home. He won’t see his family for years. In a place where time isn’t measured Goku didn’t know how long the wait will be.

 “Daddy, how long do we have to wait for Mommy?”

 Goku and King Kai spotted a young man walking towards them holding a child in his arms. The child wore a similar uniform Gohan wore when he attended preschool. The way the child clutched his father reminded Goku of Gohan doing the same when he was so young.

 “I don’t know, Kiev. We’re dead now and it will be a while before Mommy sees us.”

 “It’s my fault we died, Daddy,” Kiev sniffled. “You died because you tried to save me. I’m sorry.”

 “It’s not your fault and I’ll do it again. We were meant to die together and wait for Mommy. I would never let you be here by yourself.” The father hugged his son. “We’re a team. We’re always gonna be a team. Okay?”

 “Okay, Daddy.”

 Father and son smiled in passing at Goku and King Kai. King Kai observed Goku’s stoic face. He was lost again in another memory. King Kai didn’t want Goku to feel pain but knew he had to. So far, Goku wasn’t going through the normal process of accepting death. That’s why he wanted Goku to spend his time between these two worlds. It was finally happening and as painful as this is, King Kai knew Goku will grow immensely from it.

Goku strolled home with a giant boar under one arm and a giant fish slung over his shoulder. There was always enough food to eat but ChiChi always kept the refrigerator and pantry stuffed with food. An empty shelf meant they were running low.

 Today Goku hunted and tomorrow he’ll train. ChiChi didn’t mind as long as he spent time with Gohan when he’s home from school. Goku agreed. Plus, he loved spending time with Gohan. This weekend they were going camping. Goku looked forward to that.

 When he entered his yard, Goku noticed ChiChi coming out of the house in a rush. She looked upset.

 Goku picked up his pace to ChiChi. “What’s wrong?”

 “Gohan’s school just called. Gohan was in the playground with his classmates when kids from another class picked on his tail. One kid tried to grab it. The teacher intervened but Gohan started crying. He jumped in a tree won’t come down.” She sighed, “I need to get him.”

 Goku lowered the animals on the ground. His frown mirrored ChiChi’s. “This is the third time this happened.”

 “I know,” ChiChi agreed. “We handled the kids in his classroom but I didn’t think about those other kids.”

 “Does Gohan need to go to preschool?” Goku asked. “You taught him stuff before he went. You can keep doing that.”

 “Gohan needs to socialize with children his age, Goku. He can’t be around us all the time.”

 “Then let me train him,” Goku insisted. “A kid tried to pull his tail today. Gohan needs to defend himself.”

 “Gohan doesn’t need to defend himself. The child tried to pull his tail. He didn’t throw a fist.”

 “Gohan’s crying in a tree and won’t come down!” Goku argued. “He wouldn’t have done that if he knew how to defend himself.”

 Normally, ChiChi would argue but when she didn’t, Goku knew ChiChi agreed with him. “I know,” she sighed. “But he’s too young to fight, Goku. We gotta do something else. Maybe Gohan should hide his tail while he’s in school.”

 “Gohan ain’t hidin’ his tail.” Goku was offended ChiChi suggested that. “I never did. Ain’t nothing wrong with Gohan’s tail.”

 “I know that, but I’ve been around kids, Goku, and kids are blunt. They don’t understand how mean they can be and teaching Gohan to defend himself won’t solve the problem. Gohan has to learn to ignore the words like you did otherwise he’ll fight anyone who says anything bad about his tail and that’s not our baby.”

 “No…..” Goku didn’t want that either. He was called stupid a lot, even by his friends and during his travels, his tail got attention. It never bothered Goku. He didn’t care what they thought but Gohan was different. Words bothered him like it did ChiChi sometimes. When the three were out together, sometimes they got stares or giggles and it was at Gohan who never noticed thanks to him and ChiChi.

“I’ll pick up, Gohan,” Goku decided. “I’ll talk to him.”

 “Okay,” ChiChi agreed. “I’ll make Gohan’s favorite.”

 Gohan wasn’t the only one in the family to receive stares. Goku received them when he dropped off or picked up Gohan on Nimbus. In the playground, Gohan’s teacher and classmates surrounded the tree. They tried encouraging Gohan to come down. Gohan didn’t listen as he sat on a high branch and clutched the tree trunk crying.

 “It’s Gohan’s Daddy on the cloud!” A child pointed at Goku flying in.

 Nimbus slowly floated to Gohan who cried so loudly he didn’t hear them. “Gohan…. it’s Daddy.”

 Gohan pulled away from the tree trunk. His teary face lit up! He jumped from the tree and into Goku’s arms. “Daddy!!”

 Nimbus lowered to the ground. Gohan’s classmates gathered around Nimbus and touched the cloud in aww and pleas to get on it. “I’m taking Gohan home.”

 “Of course. I’ll bring Gohan’s bag. Come, children,” the teacher ushered the whining kids away from the cloud.

 Goku wiped away Gohan’s tears. “Wanna tell Daddy what happened?”

 Gohan sniffed. “I was playing in the sandbox when a kid asked about my tail. He thought it was a toy and wanted to pull it. I wouldn’t let him. Other kids tried to grab it so I ran and I got in the tree.”

 “Mr. Son?”

 Goku noticed Gohan’s teacher returning with Gohan’s lesson bag and school hat. She waved him over implying she wanted to speak alone.

 “Stay on Nimbus,” Goku told Gohan as he got off and walked to Gohan’s teacher.

 The teacher handed Goku Gohan’s belongings. “I tried to stop the teasing. The kids in my class know not to do that but not the other children.”

 “Guess it can’t be helped.”

 “Gohan did something unusual, Mr. Son.”

 “Unusual?”

 The teacher nodded. “I was right here when I saw the kids teasing. I was coming over when Gohan ran from them and suddenly jumped into the tree. He jumped twenty feet off the ground. He didn’t climb the branches at all.”

Goku looked at the tree in question. “Gohan jumped all by himself?” He knew it. He knew Gohan has strength in him. Goku took Gohan’s belongings and returned to the cloud. As Nimbus began the journey home, Goku asked, “So, you got up the tree by yourself?”

 Gohan shrugged. “I guess so. I was on the ground and then I was in the tree.”

 “You don’t remember how you got there?”

 Gohan shook his head. “No, Daddy.  Daddy, how come I have a tail? My classmates don’t have one and the kids at Grandpa’s village don’t have a tail either. Why do I have one?”

 ChiChi warned him Gohan will have these questions one day and they should talk about it but Goku refused. He didn’t care people asked about his tail. He thought Gohan would react the same way. Now he saw he was wrong. “Because you’re my son.” He ruffled Gohan’s head. “I had a tail when I was a kid, too.”

 “What happened to your tail?”

“It was removed.”

 “Why?”

 Kami explained but now Goku doubted that was true. Why would it be trouble for the world if he kept his tail? “Kami told me it had to be removed. It had to do with the safety of the world. I believed him then but now I think I was tricked. If I could do it over again, I would keep my tail.”

 “Did other kids talk about your tail, too, Daddy?”

 Goku laughed. “My tail was the last thing they talked about. People called me stupid. They wondered why I was so strong. They wonder why they couldn’t kill me.” Gohan giggled. “Ah, is that a smile I see? You think it’s funny people wanna kill Daddy?”

 Gohan shook his head laughing. “It’s funny people think they can kill you. You’re the strongest person in the world, Daddy. No one can beat you.”

 Goku liked to believe that but he wasn’t that naïve. Gohan was all smiles now in his lap and waving at the birds that passed. Gohan was happy but talk about his tail bothered Goku. “Gohan, do you hate your tail?”

 “No. I like it but I don’t like people calling me names because I have a tail.”

 Goku was very glad to hear Gohan didn’t hate his tail but he needed to work on his son not caring what others think. “Gohan, you shouldn’t care what people say. It’s more important what you think.”

 “What about you and Mommy?” Gohan asked worriedly. “Should I care what you two think?”

“I guess,” Goku slowly answered, not certain himself, “but me and Mommy can be wrong, too. No matter what, Gohan, me and Mommy will be happy with what you want.”

 Gohan grinned at Goku. Seeing his little boy’s face light up really made Goku happy. “Okay. Daddy.”

 “I guess words can hurt but ya gotta be strong, Gohan, and I know you are.”

 “I’m not strong like you, Daddy, but I’ll try.”

 “You are strong like me, Gohan. You just don’t know it yet, but one day, you’ll see. Now,” Goku tickled Gohan who burst into giggles and pleas for Goku to stop, “wanna race home? Mommy’s making your favorite!”

 “Yay!” Gohan cheered.

 “Tell Nimbus to fly faster.”

 “Faster Nimbus!”

 Father and son laughter echoed in the sky as they zoomed home.  

 It was bittersweet for Goku how Gohan realized how strong he is. He always pictured sharing this moment with Gohan together but they were separated and have to deal with it alone. As much as he told Gohan to not feel sad about him being dead, Goku knew Gohan was sad and ChiChi…. His mind played over ChiChi wailing on the floor at his dead.

 ChiChi, I’m so sorry.

 “King Kai, I think I will visit Grandpa.”

 “Okay, Goku. Take your……” Goku was already flying away, “……time.”

 ****

  “We are not blood but you do take after me, my boy.” Gohan Sr. observed the glum composure of Goku. “When I had time alone, I thought about my decision and regret not telling you about that tail.”

 Dealing with sadness wasn’t something Goku was accustomed to. He didn’t like being sad. He didn’t like dealing with his emotions if they weren’t happy. “I thought it was the right decision.”

 Whack!

 “Ow! Grandpa!” Goku rubbed the back of his stinging head. He was dead but Grandpa Gohan smacks still hurt. “Why did you hit me?”

 “I was silent because I was protecting you. Only I was at risk not telling you the truth. Your decision took you from your family!”

 “Your decision took you from me,” Goku argued. “I had to live in the woods alone for years.”

 Whack!

 “My mistake should’ve told you to not stay dead.” Grandpa Gohan scolded Goku.

 Goku rubbed the back of his neck irritably. “I didn’t wanna stay dead, Grandpa, but I kept putting everyone in danger. My brother came for me and kidnapped my son. I defeated Freeza and he tried to kill everyone on Earth. I was only trying to find the dragon ball you kept when I met the Red Ribbon Army. A friend’s Dad was murdered because they wanted the dragon balls I had.” He was pacing now and the more Goku thought on this, the angrier he got. “I defeated the Red Ribbon Army to get the dragon balls to bring that friend’s Dad back to life and sixteen years later someone I never met when I fought the Red Ribbon Army wanted revenge on me. His revenge almost destroyed the world! In another timeline, everyone’s dead! Everything bad happening was tied to me!”

 Goku was in his Super Saiyan form now. His gold aura was almost blinding. Grandpa Gohan cautiously approached Goku. He placed a weathered hand on Goku’s strong shoulder. The simple contact was enough for Goku to depower to his base form.

 Ashamed at his outburst, Goku turned away from Grandpa Gohan. “I just wanted to fight for fun, Grandpa, but it kept hurting everyone. Gohan’s childhood was taken. Me and ChiChi never had a chance to make more children. When I was coming home from space, I thought I was done being the hero. I thought I was going back to a peaceful planet and me, Gohan and ChiChi can go back to our lives but Trunks showed up. Three more years.” Goku sighed as he gazed at the peaceful horizon. “I thought this was it. I thought after this fight, everything will be normal again. I wouldn’t grow bored with Piccolo and Vegeta around. Me and ChiChi can have more kids and Gohan can be what he wants.”

 Goku sat on the grass emotionally exhausted. Nothing went as he thought. “When I was sick, I realize I didn’t have as much time as I thought. I wasted so much time putting off things, Grandpa. We really wanted another baby. ChiChi wanted peace so me and Gohan didn’t fight anymore. I could only give her that by staying dead.”

 Grandpa Gohan squeezed Goku’s shoulder gently. “But it’s not what you wanted… is it?”

 Grandpa Gohan heard a sniff from Goku before he shook his head. “No…..”

 “Regrets and missed opportunities are things we have to deal with when we crossover, Goku. You can’t go back. You have to come to terms with it and move on because there isn’t a guarantee you’ll meet again.” Grandpa Gohan hesitated but decided Goku needs to understand everything. “Even here. Everyone doesn’t keep their bodies, Goku. Your family may cross over as floating spirits.”

 That crossed Goku’s mind whenever he saw the floating spirits. Gohan may keep his body since he saved the world but what about ChiChi? She was a good person. She could fly Nimbus but was that enough for ChiChi to keep her body? King Yemma seemed selective on who kept their body and who didn’t.

 Coming to terms with all of this was harder than Goku thought since the consequences were still fresh. He didn’t know what constitutes as a day here but Goku thought many didn’t go by without him thinking about the Cell Game and Gohan. “I didn’t prepare Gohan like I should’ve, Grandpa. He didn’t listen to me when I told him to finish Cell.”

 “You said Gohan never acted this way before. If he did in that room, you would’ve warned him about the Saiyan rage.”

 If only that was all. “It’s not just that, Grandpa. I didn’t tell Gohan he will fight Cell.”

 “Why didn’t you?”

 “I think deep down I didn’t want Gohan to fight. I wanted to finish Cell off myself. It was created for revenge against me and I always fight my battles.” Goku put a hand over his heart. It was still strange to not feel a heartbeat. “But my body reached its limit.” That wasn’t the only reason. “I knew Gohan didn’t summon his rage like me but when he got mad, he was stronger than everyone but Gohan couldn’t naturally pull it. He had to be triggered. That was the flaw.”

 Grandpa Gohan rubbed his mustache. “That is a problem.”

 “Things were pretty bad when Gohan finally released it.” Goku felt pretty good seeing the shock on everyone’s faces when Gohan ascended. No one believed it. Everyone thought he was crazy but Goku knew what he was doing. “But when he did, it was amazing, Grandpa. Gohan has this tremendous power. When we trained, it was what I always wanted. Me and Gohan spending the day sparring, watching him grow stronger. It was just like you and me, Grandpa.”

 Grandpa Gohan could feel Goku’s pride. He felt the same when he trained Goku. “Made you feel pretty good seeing that.”

 “Yeah,” Goku agreed. He burst with pride thinking of how strong Gohan is. “I don’t have much to offer Gohan so it feels good teaching him something I’m good at. He’s so smart and responsible. He’s so much better than me, Grandpa. I’m really proud of him.”

 Grandpa Gohan felt that pride, too, because of how well Goku turned out and not for how strong he became. “Don’t be down on yourself, my boy. You’ve done more than I ever imagined. I worried you’d stay in the mountains forever but you didn’t. You traveled the world and universe. You saved so many people. You married a fine woman and have a great son. Be proud of your accomplishments because I am.”

 Seeing his kind Grandpa smiling at him with the same love and pride he felt for his son nearly overwhelmed Goku. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

 “My great-grandson sounds like a fine, young man, Goku. When we sparred together, there was no purpose other than our enjoyment and discipline for you.” The elder laughed, “You were a rambunctious child. For you and your son, sparring was great bonding but there was a purpose to your fighting.”

 “Yeah. Gohan doesn’t fight like me but he does like it. Maybe it would’ve been different if I trained him first. I wanted to when Gohan was one but ChiChi said no.”

 “One?” Grandpa Gohan laughed. “That’s too young! You were almost four when I showed you the basics. You were too eager with your son. No wonder your wife said no.”

 That wasn’t the only reason. “ChiChi thought Gohan should focus his mind on education.”

 “Nothing wrong with that. I tried schooling you, too. You did the work but you had more interest in martial arts. It held your attention more than schooling. You had a natural talent for martial arts so I nurtured it.”

 Nurtured. ChiChi said that about Gohan. She thought Gohan’s fast development meant he was special and his brain should be nurtured. ChiChi read to Gohan daily. She was so happy when Gohan brought her books for her to read to him. As often as he trained in the yard and knew Gohan watched him, Gohan never asked to be taught. Gohan only wanted to play. When Goku initiated basic martial arts, Gohan showed he had a natural talent but not the interest.

 It took longer for Gohan’s interest to come out. Maybe if Gohan wasn’t kidnapped and forced into it by Piccolo, he would’ve developed a natural interest in fighting sooner.

 Training with Gohan alone and seeing him display that power against Cell was confirmation for Goku Gohan did enjoy fighting. Goku saw it as a good thing Gohan didn’t fight like him. That meant his interests can expand. Gohan can do the school stuff like ChiChi wants but he can do the fighting stuff like me, too. Gohan’s smart enough to balance both. I wonder how much stronger Gohan will be when I see him again.

 Reality hit again how he will miss seeing Gohan grow up and grow stronger and thinking of Gohan, got Goku thinking of ChiChi and how he misses her. There’s no more waking up to her in the morning. He can’t eat her cooking; hold her hand when they stroll Mount Paouz, soak in the cauldron together or engage in anymore intimacy. No more family dinners, holidays or sitting together after dinner enjoying games together.

 ChiChi crying on the floor and Gohan comforting her after his death were his last memories and it’ll be a long time before he can apologize to both of them.  If he can. He didn’t forget about the floating spirits.

 “Grandpa, how do you deal with the wait?”

 Transition to death was hard. Grandpa Gohan experienced hardship accepting this life when he crossed over. It would’ve been easier if he didn’t worry about the child he left behind. Now that child was a man going through it, too. “There’s no timetable, Goku. It comes from accepting this is your home. There’s a new life here to explore; new friends to make. Time here passes differently and you’ll be so busy getting stronger and making new friends, your family will crossover before you realized a lifetime has passed.”

 As always Grandpa knew what to say but accepting this new home meant accepting, really accepting he won’t see his family for a long time and that was something he could only do alone. “Thanks, Grandpa. If you don’t mind, I want to be alone now.”

 My boy, you really have grown up. The old man stood and gently patted Goku’s shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

  *****

 It was rare for ChiChi to enjoy a quiet afternoon at home. Goten slept, Gohan was away visiting Piccolo on Kami’s Temple and her father left an hour ago with toys for Goten. She didn’t need to start dinner for another hour and used this quiet moment to read while drinking her favorite tea.

 ChiChi was engrossed in a climactic chapter of her book when the doorbell rang. Closing her book, ChiChi looked out the window and saw an airship in her yard. There were several men dressed in black suits standing outside. Curious, ChiChi opened the door to see the King of Earth on the other side with two tall men in black.

 “Your Majesty.” ChiChi bowed before the dog king.

 “I’m sorry for coming unannounced.” The king bowed before ChiChi. “May I come in?” He signaled his bodyguards to wait outside.

 “Of course.” ChiChi stepped aside to let the ruler of Earth in. She had her suspicions on his visit but hoped to be wrong. “Would you like some tea?”

 “No, thank you. I won’t stay long.”

 ChiChi invited him to sit on the sofa. “What brings you here?”

 “The first anniversary of the Cell Game is approaching. Mr. Satan is lauded as the one who killed Cell. There will be a parade and ceremony at my castle.” Verbally, ChiChi didn’t speak but the king saw pain in her eyes. “I can’t shake this feeling it’s not true. Son Goku killed King Piccolo. He saved us from his son. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him but I could’ve sworn I saw Son Goku at the Cell Game. A man with blonde hair looked like him.”

 “Oh.” Now she had confirmation. “So, that’s why you are here.”

 The King’s fur bristled in worry. Something was wrong. “Is Son Goku around? I’d like to speak to him.”

 ChiChi dwelled on the question before finally saying, “My husband died nearly a year ago.”

 “Nearly a year ago?” he picked up. He was afraid to ask but did so anyway. “Son Goku was at the Cell Game, wasn’t he? That little boy that fought Cell….. was that Son Goku’s son?”

 Goten’s crying from the baby monitor saved ChiChi from answering. “Excuse me.” ChiChi rose and hurried out of the room.

 Alone, the King of Earth toured the room. He went to the wall of photographs to get a closer look at the pictures. There were many of Son Goku with his wife and son and one that confirmed what he suspected. A picture of Son Goku and his son with blonde hair.

 Oh, my Go—

 A soft gurgle made the King look away from the photograph to the baby in ChiChi’s arms. The baby was the spitting image of Goku and looked less than a year old.

 My husband died nearly a year ago.

 The truth hit the King like a ton of bricks.

 “My son gets fussy when he wakes from a nap and no one is around.”

 Shock coursed through the King of Earth as ChiChi settled in her seat. His mind spun over the truth and lie he was told. “Why didn’t you speak out? Son Goku died at the Cell Game. It wasn’t Mr. Satan that killed Cell. Son Goku died saving the world.”

 ChiChi waved a toy in her hand at Goten. Her focus was on keeping him happy. “Goku died at the Cell Game but it was our son, Gohan, who killed Cell.”

 This revelation shook the King of Earth to his core. “A child?” He remembered Gohan. He remembered seeing the power expel from the child. “It’s just as when Son Goku killed King Piccolo.” The King chastised himself for not realizing sooner. Son Goku saved the world from King Piccolo. Of course his son will save the world from Cell. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything? How could Mr. Satan take credit for what he didn’t do? Cities are being named after him. He’s getting a movie and book deals. I’m hosting a parade and ceremony for him!”

 Very rare in his life the dog King showed anger. He was always a calm and kind king but learning what Mr. Satan did infuriated him. “I’ll fix this. I’ll cancel the ceremony. I’ll tell the world the truth.”

 “Please don’t,” ChiChi pleaded.

 Don’t?! “But why? The world deserves to know the truth.”

 “My family deserves to live in peace. Do you think I want television crews around my home? Do you think I want my family harassed when we go out? My son is still struggling with the death of his father. I know the attention that fraud is getting. Cameras are following him everywhere. Do you think I want that for my family? The media is insane now. Goku didn’t get this attention when he beat Piccolo.”

 That was true. Over the years the media have become more obsessed with celebrities and Mr. Satan was doing his part adding more fuel to that fire.

 “The world never knew Son Goku killed King Piccolo. They knew a child did. It’s dumb luck Son Goku was never publicly connected to King Piccolo and Piccolo’s defeat.”

 “I guess I should be fortunate for small favors, but I can’t come forward with the truth.”

 With the celebrity obsession now, the King understood ChiChi’s reluctance but he didn’t like this silence. In his eyes, the world deserved to know the truth.

 “I hate what that fraud has been doing. I hate he’s making his money off my family’s hard work. I hate my husband will not get the recognition he deserves….” ChiChi’s voice shook as tears burst from her eyes. “I will never forgive that con artist but if being left alone is the price I have to pay for my family’s peace, then I accept it.”

 ChiChi’s cries caused Goten to suddenly cry. “I’m sorry, Goten,” ChiChi apologized to her baby. She rocked him gently to soothe his tears. “Mommy didn’t mean to cry.”

 Hiding the truth hurt ChiChi but her family came first. The King wanted rightful recognition for Son Goku but he couldn’t argue against his widow wanting peace for her family. Everything Son ChiChi said about the media would happen if they knew the truth.

 “I understand.” The King bowed before ChiChi. “One day, Son Goku and his son will get the recognition they deserve. I promise.”

 The King of Earth left the Son Family home very troubled and very conflicted. He didn’t want to honor ChiChi’s request. If there was a way to get the truth out without disturbing Son ChiChi’s peace, he will do that. Son ChiChi was right and wrong about the media. It’s a bit celebrity-obsessed but Mr. Satan sought the attention. Son Goku never did. He could’ve capitalized on his fame after defeating Piccolo. He could’ve gotten endorsements, a book and movie deal, made special appearances for money but instead retreated from society and his fight with Piccolo was a small footnote in history that the world forgot.

 In this last year, Mr. Satan did several promotions and appearances. He kept the Cell story alive and not let it be a forgotten news story. Perhaps he knew if he did, his fame and money will go, too. If the world knew the truth, Son ChiChi’s family will deal with some disturbance but it wouldn’t last long. Living far away from society, very few reporters would come here anyway. If Son ChiChi did one big interview, that will answer many questions and hinder anyone from returning.

 Telling the truth and betraying Son ChiChi’s wishes was something the King wrestled until the morning of the first anniversary of the Cell Game. Maybe it was the long sleep he got or confiding in his trusted advisor last night that he woke up this morning with clarity.

 I will honor the wishes of Son Goku’s wife. It’s the least I can do for her and the man who saved us.

 But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t let Mr. Satan know what he thought of him.

 His private office opened to loud, boisterous laughs of Mr. Satan bursting in. The more Mr. Satan lied and laughed the more irritated the King of Earth became. Dinner the previous night was insufferable. It took all in him to not lash out at Mr. Satan at his retelling of lies. Perhaps if his daughter wasn’t looking at him with pride he would’ve said something then.

 “Great day isn’t it, King!” Mr. Satan stepped to the window. He was pleased with the crowds of people gathering. “It’s a perfect day for so many people to come out and celebrate the end of Cell and my saving the world.”

 The King growled. If was like the four-legged dogs people kept as pets, he would bite Mr. Satan. “Before the ceremony begins, I want to talk to you.”

 “Sure.” Mr. Satan turned his attention back to the King. “Is this about how long my speech should be? I know I went long at the changing of my hometown’s name to mine but I promise to keep this one short. Thirty---- no twenty minutes.”

 “This isn’t about that.” This man didn’t know humility at all! “Today, I will give a speech honoring you and thanking you for defeating Cell. It will be the first and only lie I ever tell the people of this planet.”

 “Lie?” Mr. Satan kept his cool. There’s no way the King of Earth knew his dark secret. “What are you talking about, King? I defeated Cell. I saved the world.”

 “That is a lie and we both know it. I don’t know everything that happened at the Cell Game but I know the world wasn’t saved by you. It was saved by people who have far more integrity than you can ever have. It is only because of the great respect I have for the real savior, I don’t tell the world the truth. May mercy be placed on your soul when you meet King Yemma.”

 The harsh, brusque tone stunned Mr. Satan. His face warmed up and his heart thumped faster in his chest.  How did the King find out? The group with him at the Cell Game were the only ones who could blow his secret and Mr. Satan paid them off handsomely. If they spoke a word they lose all the money they have received. It was all tied up nicely unless one of those strange people at the Cell Game spoke.

 King Furry shook his head disgusted. The fraud still wouldn’t confess. “You have a daughter. How can you look at her every day and lie? How can you let her think you’re a hero when you’re a fraud? Where’s your honor?!”

 He’s a fraud. Mr. Satan knew that. The King can call him whatever he wanted but Mr. Satan didn’t accept his daughter being brought into the conversation.

 “Listen, King. You’re right. I didn’t kill Cell. One of those people in the group probably did it. I admit that but don’t bring my daughter into this. I’m doing this for her.” The King of Earth wasn’t moved and that bothered Mr. Satan. “Do you know who I was before the Cell Game? How broke I was? Sure I had some fame but no money to give my baby girl all she deserves and after losing her mother, she deserves everything!”

 Again the King of Earth was immune because he thought of the sweet face of a baby boy and his kind mother that wanted to protect the family of the real heroes. “If you want to use your daughter to gain sympathy from me, forget it. My sympathy goes to a baby boy that will never know his father and a boy that will grow into a man without him.”

 “Baby?” Mr. Satan repeated confused. Was this a made-up story from the King to make him feel guilty for what he’s doing? “I don’t know what you’re talking about but I did what I had to do for my daughter! Whoever killed Cell could’ve come forward but he never did. He doesn’t care what I’m doing so why should you? If he’s too dumb to capitalize on this, that’s his problem. Not mine. ”

 The King heard enough. Mr. Satan was thick-headed and blind with fame and ego. “One of these days, your daughter will know the truth. Remember that when you tell her you did it for her. I’ll honor you today but don’t expect another ceremony like this here again.”

 Mr. Satan accepted that. With his publicists, they can do celebrations every year elsewhere. He thought about using his fame to restart the World Martial Arts Tournament. It wouldn’t be a small affair like it was in the past. No. These will be big and flamboyant with multiple prizes. His future looked very bright except for one thing. The King of Earth knew his secret, and if he knew, how long it will be before the rest of the world knew?

 ****

 It was a sunny, warm day the first anniversary of Goku’s death. Gohan laid in bed that morning wide awake for an hour. He wanted to stay in bed and sleep the day away but knew he should get up. He needed to check on Mom. He heard her talking on the phone to Grandpa, Bulma and Krillin the last few days.

 No. I don’t want to do anything special, Bulma. I want to be home with my sons.

 No, Krillin, I think it’s best my sons and I stay together that day.

 I appreciate that, Dad, but I want to be alone with my sons.

 If Mom wanted to be around him and Goten today, then he shouldn’t stay in his room all day. Gohan left his room and went to the kitchen but he didn’t see his mother cooking. That was strange. She was always in the kitchen at this time.

 Gohan returned upstairs. He softly knocked on Mom’s door but after no answer, he turned the doorknob and quietly entered. Goten slept in his crib and Mom’s bed was empty and unmade. There was an open box by the closet. Gohan went to it and saw his Dad’s fighting gi.

 Putting pieces of this mystery together, Gohan noticed the bathroom door closed. Curious, Gohan pressed his ear against it. He heard soft sobs. Gohan slowly turned the doorknob to see his mother sitting on the bathroom floor crying into his Dad’s fighting gi. Gohan quietly closed the door.

 Gohan leaned on the door. Why did he look? Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You can’t cry anymore, Gohan. You have to be the man now. I have to be strong for Mom and Goten.

 After Goku’s death, ChiChi turned the top of the wooden chest into a shrine to Goku. It held a framed photo of Goku, a pot of flowers and incense. ChiChi arranged this months ago but it felt like yesterday to Gohan when she introduced him to it.

 “Dad’s gone but that doesn’t mean we can’t still talk to him and let him know what’s going on in our lives. I made this shrine so we can always talk to him. I’ll go first.”

 ChiChi stepped in front of the chest. “Goku, I have wonderful news for you.” ChiChi placed her hand on her round stomach. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have another baby. Isn’t that wonderful? I know we talked about it since Gohan started preschool and things got in the way but it’s finally happening. It’s a boy.” ChiChi giggled. “I can see you throwing your fist in the air. I know you’re happy about that. Things will be different with him. I promise.”

 ChiChi turned to Gohan with a bright smile on her pretty face. “See, Gohan? It’s easy. Talk to your Dad, too. It’ll make you feel better.”

 Gohan didn’t speak to Dad’s shrine often. There was too much guilt but this morning Gohan felt compelled to talk.

 “Hey, Dad. It’s not a fun day today. You died a year ago. Mom doesn’t want to be around anyone except me and Goten. She’s crying in the bathroom and I don’t know what to do. It’s all my fault Mom’s crying. It’s my fault Goten won’t know you.”

 Gohan chewed his lower lip so he wouldn’t cry. “It’s my fault but I will make it right. I’ll protect Mom and Goten and be there for them.”

 As he made this promise, Gohan didn’t notice ChiChi quietly watching him.

 ****

 Breakfast passed quietly for Gohan. ChiChi and Goten were lively for different reasons. Even though he was born early, Goten still developed faster than human babies. At six months, Goten was a fast crawler and speaking one- or two-word sentences. Gohan noticed his mother talked about many things that morning; his lessons; a book she read; the weather; everything except the obvious: his father died today.

 After breakfast, Gohan gave Goten piggyback rides, chased Goten as he crawled over the house, played with his toys and concluded the morning watching TV. ChiChi played with them occasionally but spent most of the morning in the kitchen cooking for their afternoon picnic.

 “It’s a bright, beautiful day,” ChiChi said. “Instead of lunch inside, let’s have it in the yard.”

 Food covered the kitchen counters, stove and oven as ChiChi transferred food into serving dishes and picnic boxes. “I’m almost done. It’s time you two get away from the TV.”

 Goten sat in Gohan’s lap entertained by giant costume animals singing. “This show is fun, Mom. Goten likes it. I did, too. I used to watch this a lot.”

 “Yeah,” ChiChi agreed, “you did. You’d clutch your favorite stuffed rabbit while glued to the TV.” ChiChi looked up from her work. On the TV, the animals sang numbers and Goten repeated it a few. “At least it’s educational.”

 Gohan remembered this program and his stuffed rabbit from his early childhood. He wouldn’t go anywhere without it. After his kidnapping, Gohan never slept with his stuffed toys anymore. Goten had them now as companions.

 When the last commercial ended, Gohan expected another of Goten’s favorite program to start. Instead of seeing cartoon animals, a live feed of the King of Earth’s castle appeared on TV. There were crowds of celebratory people, marching bands and dancers. Gohan wondered what was going on until he saw Mr. Satan riding on top of a car waving at the people. In the car with him was the King of Earth waving very subdued.  

 Gohan saw him on TV a few times but generally avoided him. He didn’t want to see or hear Mr. Satan tell another lie of Cell. Goten wasn’t affected like his brother but he was bored not seeing his program. “’Han,” Goten tugged Gohan’s shirt. Goten was too young to fully pronounce Gohan’s name and could only call him Han. “TV?”

 “Sorry, Goten. Our program isn’t on today.” Goten frowned in the cutest grumpy face. “You can play with your toys.” He turned Goten to the alphabet blocks scattered on the sofa.

 “Ah!” Attention diverted, Goten reached for the blocks. He grabbed blocks and put letters together to make incoherent words.

 Meanwhile, Gohan watched the parade float take the King of Earth and Mr. Satan to a stage. Mr. Satan threw his arms up waving at the crowd and blowing kisses to his adoring fans. The King of Earth behaved with more decorum as he stepped to the podium. He spoke of the significance of this day and Mr. Satan’s heroics at the Cell Game.

 Heroics. Gohan scoffed. Gohan’s feelings for Mr. Satan were mixed. Gohan didn’t care about the media attention Mr. Satan captured but he wasn’t happy he took credit for what his Dad did. Dad died for everyone. He wouldn’t have beaten Cell without his Dad. Mr. Satan took credit for it and made a lot of money.

 The fame didn’t bother Gohan but the money did.

 When he was very young, Gohan remembered his Dad coming home with money on freelance jobs. While Dad was in space, Grandpa gave Mom money. He continued after Dad came home. Money never mattered to Gohan until he overheard a conversation with Mom and Grandpa two years ago.

 Today, there will be no training. It was a national holiday and Mom wanted him and Dad to take a day off and spend time together. Piccolo didn’t fly off this time. He took the day off, too. Gohan yawned as he shuffled out of bed. He left his room intending to get some fruit from the kitchen and read until breakfast is ready.

 In the hallway, Gohan heard the voices of his mother and Grandpa. Grandpa! Grandpa hasn’t visited much since Dad returned from space. Most times Gohan only saw Grandpa when they visited him in his castle. It was very strange to not see Grandpa around the house so much but Gohan figured that was due to him, Dad and Piccolo training for the Artificial Humans. They had one more year before their arrival and Gohan thought after that’s over, he will see more of his Grandpa again.

 “I can’t believe you have that kidnapper living in your house.”

 Grandpa sounded mad. Gohan didn’t hear this anger except when Grandpa talked about Dad when he was gone. Gohan remained hidden at the top of the stairs listening. From his view, Gohan saw Piccolo sleeping on the sofa with a blanket on him. Mom must’ve put that on him when she came downstairs. Feeling the level of his Ki, Gohan knew Piccolo was awake but pretending to sleep. Gohan saw a little of the kitchen from his view. Grandpa stood over Mom angry while she prepared several of her yummy donuts.

 “He’s a guest, Dad.”

 “Guests don’t stay for two years, ChiChi. He’s living here. He kidnapped my grandson. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

 “Of course it does. I didn’t like it when Goku brought him home but we are getting along. Piccolo regrets what he did to Gohan.”

 Grandpa sighed. “Oh, ChiChi. You’re being complicit. You and Gohan should’ve moved in with me two years ago.”

 Mom turned to Grandpa angry. “You expect me to leave my husband?”

“Is Goku being a husband to you?” The coldness of his Grandpa shook Gohan. “Besides, performing his husband duties to you, is he being a husband? He spends his days training with Gohan and Piccolo----”

 “You know why he is doing that,” Mom cut him off as she went back to her donuts.

 “He doesn’t work for the farmers anymore. Mr. Olitz offered Goku to come by once a week to do work so he can bring some money into the house.”

 There was that word again. Money. Was it really that bad for them?

 “He needs to train for the Artificial Humans,” Mom defended Dad.

 “So is everyone else, but they still need money to go about their lives now. I saw that Yamcha fella in a baseball game. I know the fight is in another year but you still have to live every day. If not for me, you wouldn’t have money to buy food for your family. You wouldn’t have money to buy Gohan a birthday gift.”

 Mom slammed a ball of dough on the counter. “What’s your point, Dad? Are you counting every cent of money you gave us? Are you expecting us to pay you back?”

 “No. I’m worried about you, ChiChi. I know this isn’t what you wanted. You moved out to be independent of me. You said you and Goku are adults and can take care of each other. I’ve been taking care of you financially half as long as you and Goku have been married.”

 Gohan noticed Mom stopped kneading the dough. She rubbed her arm over her eyes as if she were crying. Did it bother Mom that much?

 “After all this is over, Goku will get a job. We won’t depend on you anymore, Dad. We’ll be the independent adults I told you we will be.”

 Mr. Satan spoke at the podium. Gohan gripped the arm of the sofa tightly. Dad was dead and Mom still depended on Grandpa for money. Gohan noticed it more now since his Dad’s death Mom hated taking money from Grandpa. If she had some of that money Mr. Satan made, she wouldn’t depend on Grandpa anymore.

 Don’t we deserve that money?

 Suddenly the TV screen turned black. ChiChi held the remote. She looked as annoyed as Gohan felt. “Goten doesn’t need to see garbage. Lunch is ready.”

 The afternoon replicated a year ago: warm, sunny with few clouds in the sky. Only differences, there were no earthquakes of Cell fighting Goku and Gohan. No worriedly watching the TV of her husband and son fighting a monster. It was tranquil as Goten slept exhausted on the picnic blanket. Playing with Gohan most of the morning and eating ChiChi’s food exhausted the baby.  

 Mom’s food was great as always but Gohan’s thoughts were on the meaning of this day. He envied his brother not weighed with troubling memories but Gohan didn’t understand why Mom didn’t speak about what happened a year ago.

 “Is the food bad?”

 Gohan looked up at ChiChi gazing at him while she fixed her plate. “Hmm? No, Mom. It’s great.” He finished his sandwich to prove it.

 ChiChi smiled but the usual warmth didn’t reach her eyes. “I know today’s rough. This whole year has been rough. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe it’s been a year since Goku died.”

 Mom’s confession brought Gohan some relief. If Mom wanted to talk, maybe he can confess what’s on his mind, too. “Sometimes, I try to think Dad’s in space. It makes it easier.”

 “Maybe it’s easier but it doesn’t make it right,” ChiChi scooped a spoonful of potato salad on her plate. “I’ve been so busy with Goten, we never had that talk I promised we will have about Dad. It’s time, Gohan.”

 Gohan tensed slightly. Even though he knew it will happen, he still wasn’t ready for it.

 ChiChi added korokke to her plate. “Dad told you to finish Cell, but you didn’t want to. Why?”

Mom was calm. She spoke as if she will listen and not react strongly. It was comforting but didn’t ease the tightness in Gohan’s chest. “I didn’t think Cell suffered enough. I wanted him to pay. I don’t know what came over me, Mom, but Trunks said it happened to him, too.”

 “What happened?”

 Gohan combed his hair with his fingers agitated. “I don’t know if I can describe it, Mom. I was arrogant and I liked how strong I felt. I thought no one can stop me. I didn’t want to listen to anyone. Not even Dad.”

 So, that’s what happened. It affected Gohan, too. “Your Dad felt that, too, Gohan. It happened when he turned into a Super Saiyan.”

 Gohan filled his plate with more karaage. “Dad was really angry the first time he changed. It was scary but I know why he yelled at me.”

“One of the reasons Dad stayed away for a year, he wanted to control that Super Saiyan rage. On Yardrat, it spontaneously happened. It wasn’t safe being around him.”

 “Dad never told me this.” Gohan was disappointed to not know. “He told me he was recovering from his injuries and learning his teleportation trick.”

 “Dad didn’t want you to worry. He tried to keep it from me but I forced it out of him.” ChiChi was too busy filling her plate, explaining without thinking how cautious she should be. “Once Goku opened up, he told me stories he spontaneously burst into a Super Saiyan on Yardrat. It happened while he slept; while he ate, while he talked to the people on Yardrat. He thought he fully controlled it when he left but sometimes it still happened.”

 Gohan wondered where he were when this happened. “I never saw Dad change unless he wanted to. Sometimes I woke up feeling Dad’s Ki soar but I didn’t feel any threats. Dad was always around you.” Gohan thought that was strange but since he didn’t feel any threats, he ignored it. “If it wasn’t intentional, Mom, what happened to cause Dad to change?”

 ChiChi froze with her cheeks swollen with food. She never talked about Goku as a Super Saiyan with anyone. Bulma pried but ChiChi was tight-lipped. Distracted with food and talking about Goku, ChiChi let it slip something she hadn’t meant to say.

 “Hmm?” ChiChi feigned innocence.

 “What happened that caused Dad to change?”

 “Hah! Ahhh! Slow down, Goku.” ChiChi panted. “It’s hur…ahh!” she screamed as Goku slapped his body against hers.

 “I love your screams…..” Goku’s lustful voice breathed over ChiChi. “It boils my blood like your anger.” His powerful thrust caused ChiChi to cry out again. “That’s it. Scream for me.”

 ChiChi’s hips bounced off the bed at another powerful whap. The way Goku pummeled in her ChiChi was amazed her hips didn’t break.

 “Don’t worry.” Goku murmured over her. “I know how much you can take,” he slammed his body against hers. “And you can take a lot. You’re made for me….” One of his hands squeezed a breast. “Mine.” His mouth covered a nipple suckling and biting her flesh.

 “Goku….” His teeth hurt but ChiChi couldn’t deny how good he felt feeding off her breast and his body merging between her legs. He grabbed her left leg and pinned it behind her head, stretching her even wider as he pushed in and out of her rapidly. “I love how you keep your body fit for me.” He ignored her groans as he increased his thrusts. “I can twist your body anyway I desire and fuck you without breaking you.”

 Sweat from Goku dropped on her; his eyes and smiles were sinister. “Goku….” ChiChi grabbed a handful of his chest. “Too hard.”

 But Goku didn’t hear her as he kept slapping his body against hers faster. He was almost there and each quick thrust left her breathless to speak as she reached her end.

 “Rrgh!” Goku groaned as he came over her. Her body arched with the simultaneous intensity of her orgasm and his warm heat pouring into her. Dazed, she heard Goku’s, “That felt good. Didn’t it, ChiChi?”

 ChiChi only answered with heavy pants. Gazing at Goku, she noticed the change in his eyes. They weren’t feral anymore. Tears sprang from her eyes when she saw the guilt in his. He removed his hand from pinning ChiChi’s leg behind her head.

 As ChiChi lowered her leg, Goku depowered to his base form. “I did it again.” He kissed her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Goku murmured repeatedly. His face buried in her neck as he kissed her apologetically. “I thought I had control in that form. I did on Yardrat.”

 ChiChi accepted the tender kisses. When Goku pulled back, ChiChi noticed his wet face. She couldn’t decipher if it were her tears or his. “Don’t apologize. We’re getting used to each other again.”

 ChiChi sounded hopeful but she knew Goku wasn’t happy with his behavior. “Maybe….. maybe we shouldn’t try it like this anymore.”

 ChiChi playfully tugged one of his spiky bangs. “You were the one who suddenly changed.”

 “I know,” he wasn’t happy he did. “I don’t know what happened. I saw you in your intimacy clothes and poof! Super Saiyan.”

 ChiChi kissed him. “I think that’s a compliment.”

 Goku wasn’t convinced this was a good thing. “It’s different now. Being a Super Saiyan completely changed me, ChiChi. I wanted control of it before I came home.” Goku’s voice was muffled as he buried his head in ChiChi’s hair. “I had control but I lost it, ChiChi. I don’t know what happened.”

 ChiChi understood but Goku didn’t. She pulled Goku’s head to lay on her breasts. Goku wrapped his arms around her like a scared child while ChiChi soothed him by caressing the spikes of his hair. “You did get control of those emotions, Goku. The problem is you got control of one kind of emotion.” Goku raised his head puzzled. “Goku, you got control of rage and bloodlust for fighting. You told me on Yardrat you remember intimate times with me. You suddenly burst into a Super Saiyan.” Goku nodded remembering.  “You controlled your emotions of rage sparked by fighting but you never had a chance to control your emotions of lust because I wasn’t there. Anger emotions and intimacy emotions are two different emotions, Goku.”

 Suddenly, it clicked for Goku. “Ohhhhh! So that means I have to get control of my lust emotions.”

 “You’re not the only one who has to train. I have to get my body stronger, too. I don’t wanna be worn out after one round with you as a Super Saiyan. We can achieve our goals with practice,” ChiChi advised as her hand glided down his muscled chest. “Lots of practice.”

 Goku grinned, liking that idea. “Like when we got married.”

 ChiChi remembered the short breaks before resuming intimacy multiple times, mornings she’d try to get out of bed but Goku pulled her back. There were afternoons after lunch Goku felt in the mood. “We had more time to practice. Not so much time now. Gohan. Your training.”

 “It’ll take longer,” Goku accepted as he crawled over ChiChi again. “But we’ll get there.”

 If Gohan didn’t know better he’d say Mom’s blushing. “I guess Dad suddenly changing into a Super Saiyan wasn’t bad but what triggered it?”

 ChiChi chewed an onigiri. She prayed she wasn’t blushing as she casually explained. “Past anger in fights and other experiences. Dad got it under control and um, I got stronger, too.”

 Got stronger? Gohan wondered what Mom meant until it hit him. “You and Dad trained together?!”

 “Do you think Mom is too weak to spar with Dad?” All the innuendos. ChiChi was so glad her son never caught on. If Goku were here, he would roll on the grass laughing. “I’m still a martial artist. Remember I did fight Dad when he escaped the hospital.”

 “Oh, yeah,” Gohan remembered the story ChiChi told at the family picnic before the Cell Game. “Wow, Mom.” Gohan was impressed. “You must be really tough to battle Dad as a Super Saiyan.”    

 ChiChi could see Gohan pondering more questions to ask but ChiChi turned the topic back on him. “So you didn’t feel this rage when you trained alone with Dad. It only happened at the Cell Game?” Gohan nodded as he reached for an apple. Is that why Goku never trained Gohan to control it?  

 “If I acted cocky in that room, I know Dad would’ve prepared me.” Gohan took a big bite into his apple. “One thing I don’t understand, Mom, is why Dad didn’t tell me I will fight Cell.”

 I know why he didn’t want to tell me, but why didn’t he tell Gohan? Goku, what the hell were you thinking? “I know his heart played a part in you fighting but Dad didn’t prepare you enough and that cost him his life, too.”

 “That’s not true, Mom.”

 “Dad knew you surpassed him but didn’t tell you, Gohan. He knew you will fight Cell but didn’t tell you until the Cell Game. I love your father, but he shares the blame, too.”

 Like her, Gohan could be stubborn. “No, Mom, you’re wrong. When we entered that room, Dad told me I will be a Super Saiyan and I will be stronger than him. I didn’t believe him because I never thought I can be stronger than Dad.” So many times Gohan thought over his time with Dad in that room. So many times he noticed things he missed when it happened. It made him feel even guiltier about his father’s death.

 “We’re not finished, Dad. You said you want me to be stronger than you. I’m not there yet. Maybe I will be when the year’s up.”

 “We are, Gohan. I’ve gotten as strong as I can and you…..” Dad was happy as always. “Gohan, you’re a Super Saiyan at nine years old. Four years ago, I was the only one. A year ago, it was me, Vegeta and Trunks. You’re younger than all of us. There’s no telling how much stronger you will be.  You’re stronger than me.”

 Gohan wished his Dad didn’t lie to make him feel better. “I’m stronger, Dad, but we know I’m not as strong as you. No one can be.”

 Gohan buried his face in his hands to hide the surfacing tears. “He told me, Mom. Before we left, he said I was stronger than him but I didn’t believe him.”

 ChiChi slid across the picnic blanket to enclose her arms around Gohan. Her brave boy. She held him as he gave into the tears and cried. “It’s not your fault you didn’t believe Dad, Gohan. As strong as you are, you were too young to be fighting.”

 “But I was the only one who could stop Cell!”

 Gohan’s pain broke ChiChi’s heart. “I know but you still weren’t ready and Dad didn’t see that. Your Dad asked me if he can bring you to that room. I told him to make you as strong as possible. I know that made him happy. Goku always wanted to train you, but in his excitement to finally do that, I don’t think he saw you didn’t have the same drive as him.

 “Your Dad and I both made mistakes. Dad saw your strength and thought it meant you’re like him. I saw an interest you have and went overboard with it.” Looking back, ChiChi saw flaws in both her and Goku’s parenting. “I did it because it was safe and not dangerous like your Dad’s interest but I also knew it was something you wanted.”

 Gohan rubbed his eyes as he tried to understand his Mom. “You mean studying?”

 ChiChi dried Gohan’s tears with a napkin. “Yes. We didn’t know about Dad’s lineage so we thought you were a special baby. You crawled, talked and walked so early. We both thought you were special and felt you should be nurtured but in different ways. I thought we should give you the best future possible and nurture your mind. I read to you every day. I taught you with flashcards and blocks so early at nine months you could put round, square and triangle pegs in the right hole.”

 That sounded like Mom. “What did Dad do?”

 “Dad taught you how to swim, helped you crawl and walk. He tested your reflexes and coordination. It was light training I approved of. Your Dad was very impressed at how quickly you developed physically. It gave him more reasons to think he should train you. The first time he asked you were barely a year old.”

 “A year?” Gohan laughed. “That’s kind of young.”

“Yup,” ChiChi agreed while fondly remembering Goku’s eagerness to train Gohan. “Every birthday he asked and I said no. Your Dad accepted that until a few months after your third birthday. I noticed Goku starting to lose patience and by your fourth, he was agitated, especially when you started preschool. He said, “’If Gohan can go to preschool, why can’t I teach him martial arts?’”

 “Kind of a stretch,” Gohan admitted. “I didn’t have to fight in school.”

 “No, but you did have issues. Some kids tried to pull your tail.”

 The incident drew a blank for Gohan. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to school I forgot a lot. I barely remember preschool.”

 “Do you miss school?” ChiChi thought after the fighting, Gohan will resume school but since Goku’s death, ChiChi hadn’t thought about sending Gohan to school and Gohan hadn’t asked to go.

 “I like being home. I want to be home with you and Goten.”

 ChiChi wanted him to stay, too, but knew he shouldn’t. “You can’t stay home forever, Gohan. You need to be around kids your age. You need to find your own group of friends and not just your Dad’s friends.”

 Maybe Mom was right but Gohan didn’t feel like socializing. “I will,” Gohan promised, “but let me stay home a little longer. I’m still catching up from missing three years of school.”

 ChiChi knew Gohan didn’t ‘miss’ three years of school. Even while training Gohan read and studied. He might have been a little behind but he wasn’t three years behind. “All right,” ChiChi gave in. “We won’t talk about you going to school yet.” Hearing her say that caused ChiChi to laugh at herself. “Oh, my. Your father is influencing me from the grave. Me not send you to school?” She laughed again. “Maybe I’m loosening up too much.”

 “I don’t think so. You still won’t let me fight.”

 Gohan laughed but ChiChi didn’t take the joke light-heartedly. Her past behavior would make anyone think that but everyone was wrong. “It’s not as if I never wanted you to learn how to fight, Gohan. Your Dad and his friends thought that but it’s not true.”

 When it came to him fighting, the reaction Gohan mostly saw from his mother was anger. It was mostly directed at his Dad and his friends. Now, Mom appeared conflicted and sad. Emotionally, she was never this raw and open. One thing Gohan noticed from his parents recently was how they sometimes hid their real feelings. Seeing this as a rare opportunity, Gohan used this moment to get answers. “What is the truth?”

 Her son looked so different now. Moments ago, he cried in her arms for comfort like he did at four. Now he looked wise beyond his years; ready for adult conversations. The price of so many fights she assumed. “Seeing your Dad fight Piccolo was traumatic. The brutal beating he took was something I never wanted to happen to you. I told Goku times were peaceful and you didn’t need to learn how to fight. That didn’t mean you couldn’t fight to help others but honestly, I thought if that happened, it wouldn’t be for a very long time. Your Dad was fifteen the first time he saved the world. He wasn’t nine. He wasn’t fighting aliens that could destroy a planet at five years old.”

 At four years old, Gohan accepted his fate. He accepted he had to fight to save the Earth from the Saiyans. He volunteered to go to Namek. He wanted to fight the Artificial Humans. Not since being left alone for six months, did Gohan think he was too young for all this. Cell was the breaking point. The sacrifice in that fight was too much. When Goku was on Yardrat, Gohan trained to keep in shape. He sometimes visited Piccolo for a light session. Since Cell, he hasn’t trained at all. When he visit Piccolo, it’s only to talk. All Gohan wanted to do is read and study. He exercised to stay in shape but he never trained.

 “My other reason,” ChiChi continued, “is that I knew you didn’t want to fight. That was your father’s dream. You told me your dream.”

 “Being a scholar?” Gohan guessed. Gohan remembered telling Piccolo this but he couldn’t remember the day he decided he will be a scholar.

 Luckily, ChiChi did. “Gohan, do you remember when you told me what you wanted to be when you grow up?” Gohan shook his head. “I do. I always wanted you to get an education but you, Gohan, you said you wanted to be a scholar and like any good mother I supported that.”

 “Gohan? Your mother’s here.”

 Gohan turned his head to see his mother standing at the door of his classroom. “Mommy!” Gohan closed his book and ran to ChiChi. He wrapped his arms around her legs.

 ChiChi rubbed his shaggy hair. “Did you have a good day today?” Gohan nodded. “Get your things. We have a long drive home.”

 Gohan grabbed his school hat and bag and bowed before his teacher. Holding ChiChi’s hand, mother and son left preschool. “Where’s Daddy?”

 Most days she and Goku picked up and dropped off Gohan at preschool. “He’s doing work for Mr. Olitz but he’ll be home for dinner.” When they were settled in the truck, ChiChi drove off. Traffic was always congested near the school but once ChiChi drove the route home, traffic always became light. “What did you do in school?”

 “We learned about animals. Miss Rae talked about dinosaurs, lions and tigers. The dinosaurs she talked about aren’t like the ones at home, Mommy.”

 True. The dinosaurs in the Mount Paouz area were friendly and kept to themselves. The ones Miss Rae talked about were the violent and human eating type that scared children.  

 “Mommy, what should I be when I grow up?”

 The unexpected question caused ChiChi to laugh, “Gohan, you’re four. Why are you asking that?”

 “Miss Rae gave us homework. She wants us to think about what we will be when we grow up and draw it.” Gohan shrugged. “I don’t know what to be.”

 ChiChi tried to help. “Well, you want it to be something you love because you will be doing it for a very long time. What do you love to do?”    

 “Play with Daddy.”

 ChiChi laughed. “I do, too, but that’s not a career.”

 “Eat your cooking,” Gohan tried again.

 Another giggle. “That’s not a career.”

 Gohan became quiet as he seriously thought about it. “I love to read.”

 “That’s a start. Let’s see,” ChiChi pondered. What career can be built on reading? “With reading, you can be a writer, a teacher, a scholar…..”

 “What’s a scholar?”

 “A scholar is a very smart person who reads and studies a lot.”

 “I can do that. I’ll be a scholar,” Gohan decided. “I love to read and you and Miss Rae tell me I’m smart.”

 A scholar. ChiChi liked that. It will definitely nourish his mind and ChiChi always wanted to do that. “If that’s what you want to do, Gohan, I’ll help you.”

 Gohan faintly remembered his teacher, Miss Rae. She was kind and helpful to him but like many things, Gohan forgot a lot of his life before the kidnapping. Classmates he ate lunch with, played in the sandbox were completely forgotten. He couldn’t remember their names.

 “Like any good parent, I supported your decision though,” ChiChi sighed, “there was extra motive on my part. I thought it would help me convince your Dad to not train you. I should support your decision like any parent but I should’ve been realistic you will change your mind. You were four years old. I doubt Miss Rae took you seriously.”

 So his desire to be a scholar was based on an assignment from preschool. It was his decision. He chose that career but Mom sounded as if she regretted encouraging him.

“Your Dad and I both made mistakes and in our own ways forced things on you before you were ready to make a decision for yourself. I can change that. All I want is for you to be happy and get an education because I think you deserve that but you don’t have to be a scholar. Be what you want.”

 Was this a trap? Did Mom really mean this? “If I quit school will you be mad?”

 ChiChi raised an eyebrow curiously. Was he testing her? Maybe she and Goku went to the extremes in getting what they wanted out of Gohan but ChiChi wasn’t going to allow Gohan to make the same mistake. “I think you will miss a great opportunity giving up your education. Your Dad and I never had the chances you have, Gohan. Your Dad lived on his own for a very long time and had to figure things out on his own. I had my own tragedies but Grandpa gave me a normal but limited upbringing. While I did get some school lessons, Grandpa thought it would be best if I focus more on being a wife and mother.”

 “Why?”

 “Because of his kingdom. He thought I will inherit it after I married and the only education I need is Grandpa grooming me and Goku but I had my own plans. So, if I didn’t follow in my Dad’s plans for me, I should do the same for you. But Gohan,” ChiChi was firm and vowed to argue if Gohan refused her olive branch, “you have to meet me halfway. I won’t force you but you do need an education.”

 So, it wasn’t a test. This was a lot to think about but Gohan wanted to make one thing clear with his mother. “I never felt forced, Mom but I didn’t think you were right wanting me to study when there were other things happening.”

 “Like bringing back Piccolo?”

 That was a big one. “Yeah, but I was wrong, too. I didn’t think about you missing me for a year. I didn’t know what you went through.”

 ChiChi wrapped an arm around Gohan and squeezed him. “That’s in the past and we have both learned from it.”

 Gohan nodded. There were unfortunate misunderstandings on both their parts and both learned the hard way. “I want to continue my education, Mom. I like reading but maybe scholar isn’t for me.” He laughed. “It’s a broad topic.”

 “Don’t worry, Gohan. You have many peaceful years to decide. You and Goten. Oh,” Something caught her eye. “Someone heard his name.”

 Goten’s little body wiggled as he slowly awakened. He raised his head and looked around searching for someone until he saw ChiChi. A sweet giggle burst from Goten as he crawled to his mother.

 “Is my sweet Goten awake?” ChiChi cooed as she picked up Goten and smothered him with kisses. ChiChi fell back on the blanket with Goten on her chest. “We are lucky, Gohan.”

 “Lucky?”

 “We lost Goku but we get to live in peace. In another future, you and your father are dead.” She lift Goten over her. The child burst in sweet giggles as he went up and down in his mother’s arms. “Goten never existed. I don’t know what happened to me but I know it wasn’t good. The me in that time won’t have a happy ending. We get to have a happy ending, Gohan. You will grow up, find a career, marry and have children. Goten will grow up in peace. He won’t have to deal with kidnappings and violence. I won’t have Goku but I will have you, Goten and any grandchildren you’ll give me. I’ll be happy.”

 His mother was so happy as she flew Goten in her arms. Goten’s laughs were pure and joyous like all happy babies. It made Gohan very happy to see this. Mom was right. They will have a happier future. Dad was gone but for the first time in a year Gohan wasn’t heavily burdened with guilt. He and Mom had a long overdue talk and Gohan felt a change in their relationship. It was a good change. Gohan accepted he will always carry some guilt but it felt lighter now. They were lucky. Dad was gone but Goten is here. He’ll have a better future than his dead counterpart. He won’t die at a young age in a dystopian future. He’ll have his father’s friends and new friends he’ll make in the future.

 I’ll be happy, Gohan decided. I’ll be happy.

 ****

 ChiChi felt the summer heat when she stepped out of her father’s car. The heat was somewhat bearable in her mountain home. It was brutal in West City. The city was going through a record-breaking heatwave.

 Dr. Briefs invented an invisible dome for the gathering in his backyard. The heat was brutal from where Gyu-Mao parked to the short distance inside the large Capsule Corporation domicile. ChiChi picked up her pace as she was eager to get her and Goten inside.  

 “Oooo,” ChiChi felt the relief of chilled air, “that cool air feels wonderful.”

 “I still want a drink,” Gyu-Mao, with his massive frame, felt the heat more than his family. He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “A nice cold beer sounds good.”

 “Wow,” Gohan marveled at the booms of music overhead and the transformation of the Briefs’ backyard into a carnival. There were several booths managed by robots that prepared a variety of foods, an area cornered off for video and carnival games for all to play. It reminded ChiChi of the festivals her father hosted in his village. A few of Dr. Briefs pets roamed free in a fenced area. ChiChi thought that will be a fun spot to play with Goten. At almost nine months, Goten walked, was fearless and enthusiastic playing with wild animals while Gohan was shy around them at his age.

 “You made it!”

 Bulma spotted them as she and Trunks were by a food booth of sweet cakes. Bulma waved them over.

 “Drink,” Gyu-Mao said parched. “It’s so hot outside.”

 Bulma pointed to three booths down from them. “Makes everything. Alcoholic. Nonalcoholic.”

 While Gyu-Mao sauntered over to the drink booth, ChiChi and Gohan remained. ChiChi carried Goten in his carrier while Gohan carried Goten’s baby bag. “Sorry we’re late,” ChiChi apologized. “Goten was a little fussy before we left but he settled on the drive here.”

 “At least you came.” Bulma was irritated. “Not everyone showed up. Piccolo refused to come and Tien wasn’t kidding when he told Yamcha after the Cell Game this may be the last time we see him.”

 ChiChi tried to be optimistic. “Well, more fun for us I guess.”

 “Visit all the booths,” Bulma told them. “I have plenty of food and games. The interactive ones are great, Gohan. I highly recommend them.”

 “I don’t know how to play those games,” Gohan admitted shyly.

 “Yamcha will show you. ChiChi, I have a Goldfish, UNO and Old Maid for you. I’ll play with you but after I have my rematch with Master Roshi over Poker. He swindled two grand out of me. I’m getting it back today.”

 ChiChi suspected Bulma meant well referring child games to her as Goku’s friends didn’t see her as the adult games type of player but it would’ve been nice to be asked what and if she played  but like everyone always suspected Goku was too innocent to know anything, they thought that of her as well. Like Goku, she will use this to her advantage. “I wouldn’t mind sitting in on a Poker game.”

 Bulma was taken back at the suggestion. “If you want but Master Roshi is really good and plays for money. I’ll explain the game and after watching me and Master Roshi play a round or two, join in if you feel comfortable.”

 “Master Roshi wouldn’t take money from me.” If he tried, ChiChi would make him pay. “It would be cruel to take money from his former student’s widow.”

 “We always play for money but Roshi only takes it from me.” It shouldn’t matter to Bulma since she is rich and the two grand Master Roshi won from her was pocket change but it was the principle that old man outplayed a genius like her that infuriated her.

 “Oh, Trunks,” Bulma groaned at Trunks’ cake smeared face. “You’re such a messy eater.” She grabbed a napkin and wiped his face clean.

 There was a sudden chorus of roars at one of the video game consoles. Yamcha threw his hands up with Oolong, Puar and a woman ChiChi never saw before cheering him. She was a brunette with her hair pulled up into a ponytail. She wore a pretty summer dress that flattered her petite figure and stood very close to Yamcha. “They are really into the games,” ChiChi commented.

 “They’ve been playing since they got here. Oh,” Bulma smiled cheekily. “Yamcha brought his girlfriend. Not as pretty as me, but not many women are. He met her at one of his baseball games.”

 Trunks got fussy when Bulma pulled him away from the booth of sweets. She settled the child in her arms as she walked with ChiChi, Goten and Gohan. “I’m more interested in Krillin’s girlfriend.”

 “Why?”

 “They’ve been dating for over a year and Krillin’s so secretive about it. That’s suspicious.”

 ChiChi agreed it did sound suspicious but Krillin’s life was his personal business. “Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell us about her.”

 “And that makes it suspicious. Why hasn’t Krillin told us about her? What’s he hiding?” It was all an exciting mystery to Bulma.

 “Maybe he’s scared of what we will think,” Gohan offered his opinion. “Vegeta was upset with him not destroying 18 after the fight with Cell and…..” Gohan recalled the embarrassing thing he said on Kami’s Temple. “I accidentally announced Krillin’s feelings to 18.”

 “Whoever she is, we can be relieved it’s not 18.”

 Bulma brought them to the picnic area where her mother laid on a blanket wearing sunglasses, a crop shirt and mini shorts. A few feet away at the tables sat Vegeta surrounded by food.  

 “Let’s sit on the grass,” ChiChi pointed to a spot near Mrs. Briefs.  

 Gohan grabbed a picnic blanket off a spare table and spread it out. Goten woke up in the middle of this and his curious eyes looked around. ChiChi spotted that look in Goten’s eyes. She had ten seconds before Goten broke out in a full-blown wail. ChiChi unbuckled the carrier and pulled Goten out just in time.

 “What’s wrong with Goten?” Bulma asked curiously of Goten clinging to ChiChi.

 ChiChi rocked Goten gently. “Goten has to be held when he wakes up from his naps or he’s gonna scream.”

 “And fed.” Gohan opened Goten’s baby bag and handed ChiChi a bottle of milk.  

 Trunks walked over to Gohan as he pulled toys, snacks and bottles from Goten’s baby bag. Trunks grabbed a plush dragon and sat on the blanket to play with it. Seeing Trunks got himself a temporary babysitter with Gohan and ChiChi, Bulma said, “Mind watching him while I grab something to eat? I’m starving.”

 Before ChiChi could answer, Bulma was already walking away. “Mine!” Goten jumped out of ChiChi’s arms when he saw Trunks playing with his toy. Trunks stuck his tongue out at Goten and held the plush dragon close to him.

 “Let him play with it, Goten.” ChiChi grabbed a toy from the bag and gave it to her son. “When Bulma visited us, she let you play with Trunks’ toys.”

 “He broke it!” Trunks pointed at Goten.

 Goten tried to reach for the toy again but ChiChi held him back. “Oh, my,” Mrs. Briefs cooed seeing Goten. Today was the first time she met him. “He looks like Goku.”

 ChiChi tickled Goten to distract him from getting his plush dragon from Trunks. The baby squirmed and laughed, completely forgetting about his toy. “He looks and smiles so much like his Daddy. It’s almost as if he’s returned in some way.”

 Vegeta rolled his eyes. If she continued on like this, he will throw up his food. “Kakarrot’s isn’t coming back and you need to get over that. There isn’t any special meaning to Goten looking like Kakarrot. The second sons of a Saiyan look like their father.”

ChiChi and Gohan looked at Goten before turning to Vegeta surprised by this revelation. “Really?”

 “Saiyan genetics,” Vegeta explained. “Even that idiot Raditz knew. He knew he will recognize Kakarrot because he looked like their father.”

 That sounded familiar to ChiChi. “When he was in the hospital, Goku did mention his brother saying that.”

 Vegeta resumed eating when he noticed ChiChi staring at him in a peculiar way. “What are you looking at me for?”

 “I’m wondering if you are the oldest or second son of your father.”

 Vegeta turned away from ChiChi. It was bad enough Bulma asked about his past. He didn’t need ChiChi doing it, too. “Mind your own business!”

 “Krillin!” Bulma screamed. “What the hell?!”

 Alarmed, ChiChi, Gohan and Vegeta looked to see what happened. Master Roshi, Krillin and Krillin’s girlfriend, 18, arrived.

 18 dressed relaxed in her black skinny jeans and plum-colored halter top. The bracelets on her right arm jingled as she pushed back a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Her sharp, pretty blue eyes surveyed the shock and suspicious stares at her as she arrived on Krillin’s arm. Krillin rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Hi, everyone! Nice group get together you arranged, Bulma.” Several pairs of eyes stared wanting an explanation. “We all know each other but I’ll introduce her again. Meet 18…. my girlfriend.”

 Yamcha pushed his girlfriend behind him. Oolong and Puar dived behind a game console.

 Gyu-Mao dropped his drink while Master Roshi ordered himself one.  

 Dr. Briefs resumed playing with his pets while Mrs. Briefs clapped her hands giddily. “Ooooh, we have another blonde in the group!”

 Bulma gripped her plate irate at Krillin. “Well, I see why you kept this a secret.”

 Gohan was the only one happy. He was relieved he didn’t blow Krillin’s chance with 18. “Krillin got her to be his girlfriend after all! That’s great!”

 A vein popped on Vegeta’s forehead as the metal can of cool drink crushed in his hand. “What the fucking hell?!” Vegeta rose. His hair turned blonde and with one leap stood beside Bulma. He wanted answers. “What the hell is this?!”

 “Listen, Vegeta.” Krillin tried to explain. “I know you don’t like 18 but it’s been over a year since she kicked your ass and she’s not a killer. She’s not a bad person.”

 “The hell she isn’t! She’s one of Dr. Gero’s monstrous creations. Have you forgotten what hell she unleashed on us a year ago?!”

 “It wasn’t that bad. She’s not like the ones Trunks fought in his time.”

 Not that bad? She broke his arm!! She humiliated him, the Prince of Saiyans! “You would say that. Your cowardly ass stayed behind while the rest of had the guts to face her and her tin can brother.” 18’s pretty blue eyes thinned at the insult. “Oh, does the tin can have feelings?” Vegeta mocked. “Did I hurt you telling you the truth about yourself?”

 “Look,” Krillin warned him. He expected hostility but Krillin wanted it directed at him. Not 18. “Everyone can change. You did worse than 18 and we forgave you. Bulma had a baby with you even though you are responsible for her ex getting killed.”

 Yamcha whistled. “I knew someone would say it but I didn’t think it would be him.”

 “Seriously?!” Bulma screamed. “You bring that up after you couldn’t destroy the remote that would’ve saved your best friend’s life?!”

 Here we go again. Gohan slapped his forehead. When will this stop? “Pack Goten’s things,” ChiChi told Gohan. “If they start fighting, I want you to get Goten away from here.”

 “Don’t worry, Mom.” Gohan felt the escalation, too. “It won’t come to that.”

 “I don’t care if you stay or go,” Vegeta raged at Krillin, “but I don’t want that robot in my house!”

 “It’s not your house,” Krillin refused to leave. “And 18’s not a robot.”

 “Well, I don’t want her in my house.” Bulma pointed behind Krillin. “Get out!”

 If only they didn’t insult 18. “It’s not your house either,” Krillin shot back in a smartass tone. “It’s your Dad’s house.”

 Bulma flinched at Krillin’s sharp tongue. Where did this behavior come from? All she had to do is scream and Krillin would cower but now he stood in front of 18 defiantly.

 Dr. Briefs lit up a cigarette amused. “Oh, let them stay, Bulma. He’s right. Vegeta’s has done worse.”

 “Why are you taking Krillin’s side?!” Bulma yelled. “I’m your daughter!”

 Krillin standing in front of 18 humored Vegeta. “You’ve gained a lot of confidence.” And he knew why. “You fuck that robot.” He laughed cruelly. “I guess if you’re desperate you’ll fuck anything.”

 18’s sharp eyes smoldered. She didn’t care what Vegeta said to her, but he crossed a line going after 17 or Krillin. “I do regret things I did but when I think of you, Vegeta, I have no regrets.” She stepped closer to him where her breath fanned his face. “You still talk too much.�� Even though she invaded his personal space, he didn’t move as 18 circled him. “Sometimes I think of you. I think of the look on your face before I slapped you into a mountain. I think of you when I broke your arm. I smile and think, ‘That’s one good thing I did right. What would it be like to do it again?’”

 “YOU WANT A REMATCH?!” Vegeta’s body illuminated as his rising Ki created trembles and hurricane force winds in the backyard. Bulma was knocked back several feet. Yamcha pulled his girlfriend behind a game console. Gyu-Mao and Master Roshi shielded themselves behind the liquor booth. Trunks moved closer to ChiChi. As the ground shook, debris from booths flung over the yard, game consoles began sliding from their spot. Some even tipped over. A blonde Gohan stood protectively in front of his mother and brother. He shielded them with his power as he waited for the moment he will have to step in.

 Vegeta’s body pulsed with energy. He wasn’t at half his power but it was enough to deal with 18. “TAKE THIS!” Vegeta roared as he threw the first punch. His fist barely moved forward when Gohan caught his wrist. Vegeta raised his Ki but the ten-year-old was still too strong for him. “Get your damn hands off me!”

 “You’re causing a lot of damage, Vegeta!”

 “Me?!” Vegeta tried to move but Gohan restrained him. “She caused this!”

 “You’re instigating a fight!” Gohan thought yelling would get through Vegeta. “You’re causing damage and scaring everyone!”

 Vegeta looked around at knocked over game consoles and blown over booths. Bulma climbed out of one blown several feet away. There were dazed robots and everyone staring at Vegeta as if he was the one wrong. “Fuck off!”

 “It’s not Vegeta’s fault.” Bulma returned to Vegeta’s side and pointed at Krillin and 18. “They started it. Krillin deliberately kept this a secret!”

 “There wasn’t a right time to mention I’m dating 18,” Krillin tried to explain. “ChiChi was pregnant when we last saw each other.”

 “You still could’ve told the rest of us. We could’ve kept it quiet from ChiChi like we used to do.” Bulma spotted Master Roshi by the liquor booth. “Same for you, Old Man! You knew and said nothing!”

 “That’s enough of that.” Dr. Briefs joined the group. “As long as everyone behaves, there’s no reason we all can’t get along and enjoy this party.”

 Dr. Briefs wasn’t a physically strong man. He had a very relaxed personality and let his family and Vegeta do what they want and accommodated them if he can. So when he kindly put his foot down, no one argued against him. Not even Vegeta.

 “If she makes one move, she’s dead,” Vegeta threatened. He returned to base form where Gohan still held him. Vegeta snatched his arm away from Gohan. “Get your hands off me!”

 Vegeta stormed off to his table but Bulma remained. She had a few more words for Krillin and 18. “Where’s your brother? Should I expect him to crash the party and kill us?”

 18 flipped her hair. “My brother has no plans of coming here.”

 Bulma didn’t believe 18 and she looked at Krillin as if she didn’t know him. “Thanks for ruining the party, Krillin.”

 Bulma left to catch up with Vegeta. While the most hostile group walked away, the eyes of everyone else weren’t welcoming except for Gohan and Master Roshi who knew the secret.

 “Come sit with us, Krillin,” Gohan offered.

 “With your Mom?!” Krillin reacted with fear. “If Bulma wanted to tear my head off, ChiChi will kill me.”

 “It’s not a good move anyway,” 18 observed Bulma sitting on the blanket with ChiChi.

 Krillin saw it and groaned. He imagined the two teaming up against him later. ChiChi may literally throw him out! This reunion was spiraling into a disaster. “18, how about we go somewhere else?”

 “No.” 18 refused to run. “We didn’t do anything wrong. They need to get used to seeing us.” Headstrong she was, 18 was sympathetic to Krillin’s plight. “But I know you have to talk to your friends. You can do that better without me.”

 Without another word, 18 left his side. Walking alone, 18 saw Yamcha, a woman, Oolong and Puar stare at her with fear. When she arrived in the picnic area, Mrs. Briefs waved while Vegeta scowled while stuffing his mouth with food. Bulma clutched Trunks as if protecting her from 18. 18 mentally scoffed. Bulma really thought she will kill her child? 18 spotted the other woman she knew to be Son Goku’s widow. She held her child, too, but she didn’t look at 18 with fear. 18 didn’t bother deciphering her look as she sat at the farthest table with her back to everyone.

 Lapis told you but you didn’t listen. 18 cursed herself as she recalled her conversation with her brother.

 “You’re crazy, Lazuli.” 17 told her. “Absolutely crazy. They are not gonna accept you. All they will see is what we did after we were freed and what they think of us because of Trunks.”

 18 casually sat in her chair with her legs crossed and hands behind her head. She asked Krillin when he will introduce her to his friends. Krillin always said the time wasn’t right and each time 18 gave him the cold shoulder. Now on the verge of meeting his friends, 18 had second doubts.

 “I’m not doing it to be accepted.”

 “I’m your brother. I know when you’re lying. You act all cool and unaffected but you want to be accepted. You want to show you are different and not what they think.” 17 sat on the railing of his porch. “I don’t know what you see in Krillin but you want to be welcome in that circle.”

 “After everything that’s happened to us, I deserve something good and that’s Krillin.”

 17 rolled his eyes. “If you say so but those friends of his won’t accept you. Vegeta’s doesn’t strike me as the forgiving type and from what Krillin told you, Vegeta’s a lot stronger now. I won’t be able to help you if he wants a rematch.”

 “Krillin and I can handle him.”

 “Hmph,” 17 snorted.

 “What about you, Lapis?” 18 questioned. “Don’t you want something different? Do you enjoy living in the middle of nowhere? Alone?”

 17 laughed. “What’s wrong with this?” He stretched his arms out at the cabin they were in. “It’s quiet, away from civilization. As for alone,” he grinned, “not always. You’re just not a nature girl.”

 “You weren’t exactly an outdoorsman either,” 18 reminded him. “16’s death affected you more than you want to let on.” Krillin told 18 about 16’s sacrifice and how his death changed the course of the Cell Game. She thought of how 16 tried to save her before Cell absorbed her. 17 never saw any of this but he took 16’s death harder than she.

 “What are your plans with Krillin, Lazuli?” 17 changed the subject. 18 noticed her brother did that lot whenever 16 was mentioned. “What are you trying to do with him? Are you looking for marriage? A family? Can you even have kids?”

 “You know there are still parts of me that’s human. Just like you.”

 “Hmm. Dr. Gero certainly made sure of that,” 17 said cuttingly. The horrors of what Dr. Gero did to them will never be forgotten. Brother and sister handled it in their own way. 17 engaged in petty robberies and entertaining female company. 18 dealt with the trauma by focusing on happier things. Her and Krillin. “How much does Krillin know what Dr. Gero did to us? Does he even know your name?”

 “Krillin knows enough.”

 “If he doesn’t protect you at this gathering, I’m including Krillin in my revenge.”

 Krillin doesn’t have to worry about my brother but what do I do now? 18 asked herself as she sat alone. She could hear Krillin laughing with his friends. At least someone is enjoying themselves.

 After the disturbance of Krillin and 18’s arrival, the reunion happily resumed. Game consoles, food and liquor booths were occupied again. Mrs. Brief relaxed on her blanket. Dr. Briefs played with his animals. Krillin chatted with Yamcha and Gohan and received some light teasing from Oolong.

 The mood was subdued in the picnic area. Vegeta watched 18 like a hawk. Bulma and ChiChi stared at 18 curiously, too, while they cared for their children.

 “The nerve of Krillin inviting 18 and not telling us he’s dating her,” Bulma grumbled. “There’s no way she’s into him. She’s using him to get close to us.”

 ChiChi cut the food on Goten’s plate into smaller bites. “I don’t agree with Krillin keeping this secret. I don’t like secrets.” Goten didn’t wait for ChiChi to put his food on a fork. He grabbed the food and stuffed it in his mouth. “Oh, Goten,” ChiChi wiped Goten’s messy face. “I know what it’s like to be left out on things but you were hypocritical yelling at Krillin.”

 “Hypocritical?” Bulma felt she was right. “18 almost killed Vegeta. She and her brother hunted down Goku. You should be mad and on my side.”

 “I’m not picking sides but everyone forgave Piccolo and I was looked at as the bad person because I didn’t when he kidnapped my son for a year. I wasn’t understanding to let my five-year-old son who was just reunited with me after a year apart to go into space. You and Krillin said it will be a safe trip because the Namekians are peaceful but no one took into consideration that being a safe trip meant my son didn’t need to go. In spite of how you treated me, I forgave all of you.”

 Bulma winced at the emotional slap of words. She still held a grudge about that. “It wasn’t like that, ChiChi. We did think it was a safe trip and we didn’t see the harm in Gohan going.”

 “Because he wasn’t your child,” ChiChi steered Bulma to understand her view. “If it were Trunks, you wouldn’t have let him go.”

 “Zoom!” Trunks flew a toy car in the air like an air ship.

 Trunks was so happy playing with Goten’s toys. Bulma would’ve argued against Trunks going off into space at five years old. However, Bulma felt she had some wiggle room to argue her side. “I wouldn’t but Gohan is Goku’s son. Maybe subconsciously, we did think we need Gohan just in case our trip wasn’t peaceful and we were right. We did need him. Anyway,” Bulma wanted to stay on topic, “it doesn’t excuse what Krillin did.”

 “Vegeta did a lot worst.” ChiChi didn’t understand Bulma’s blindness to that. It was starting to aggravate her. “I’ve noticed forgiveness is very quick with you all as long as it doesn’t affect you. When it does, your behavior isn’t different than mine when it only affected me.”

 ChiChi could feel her temper bubbling. The hypocrisy! Playing victim. Will it ever end? ChiChi wanted to get on better terms with Goku’s friends but sometimes they made it so difficult. Instead of lashing out, she picked up Goten and walked off. She needed to cool off or she will be screaming like everyone expected of her.

 ChiChi passed booths of food and games. Her father was drunk and sharing stories with Master Roshi she wouldn’t subject her innocent child of hearing. Yamcha and Krillin stood over Gohan, showing him how to play a game.  She had Goten but ChiChi felt lonely.  

 When it was just us, Goku was always by my side. At the festivals at my Dad’s village or when we went to different cities, Goku was with me. Would it be the same if we were with his friends?

 ChiChi distracted herself by taking Goten to the petting zoo of Dr. Briefs’ animals. While Goten played with the animals, ChiChi talked with Dr. Briefs. The patriarch was kind, very chill and seem more interested in his animals and keeping the peace than socializing.

 After feeding and playing with each animal, Goten and ChiChi left the petting zoo. Krillin and Gohan were playing against each other in an interactive game with Oolong and Puar cheering them on. Yamcha and his girlfriend were sharing a meal at a food booth. Bulma played with Trunks with her Mom. Vegeta kept eating and watching 18 who sat alone.

 She and Goten were at the petting zoo for an hour. In all this time, ChiChi wondered, did anyone approach 18?

 Isolation from Goku’s friends. ChiChi knew what that was like. Until last year, she felt very isolated from them. She was wife to the friend they loved so much; the mother of his children but for years she wasn’t accepted. She was judged, didn’t fit in and ChiChi saw history repeating itself with 18.

 ChiChi decided to change that.

 18 looked at her watch. This is boring. She drummed her fingers against the table. 18 thought Krillin should speak with his friends to explain things but she thought he would’ve returned. He was gone for over an hour talking and playing those games. He should catch up with his friends since he hasn’t spent time with them in months but I’m important, too.

 18 contemplated going to Krillin when she felt someone near. She turned, saw ChiChi and Goten and looked away. 18 only knew what Krillin told her about ChiChi. Great. Another volatile greeting.

 “I guess this isn’t the welcome you wanted.”

 That wasn’t a yell. ChiChi sounded sympathetic. Was this a trick? 18 studied ChiChi for a moment before turning away again. “Aren’t you afraid I will kill you and your child?”

 “If you wanted to, you would’ve tried and failed already.” ChiChi sat next to 18 which caused the blonde to turn back with skeptical eyes. What was she up to? “I know what it’s like being the new person in this group. No one knows you. No one understands you. No one wants to be your friend or give you a chance.”

 Goten reached to grab 18 but ChiChi adjusted Goten in her lap. “I was Goku’s wife for ten years. I wasn’t accepted by his friends until he died last year.”

 If 18 was surprised, she didn’t reveal it. “They are an interesting bunch. In some ways, I see why Goku called them friends and enjoyed adventures with them but I also see why he could go years without seeing them.”

 Goten reached forward and touch 18’s bracelets. He gripped on it and pulled. “Sorry,” ChiChi apologized pulling Goten’s fingers away from 18’s bracelet. “Goten’s at that grabby stage.”

 Goten reached for 18’s bracelet again and whimpered when ChiChi pulled him away. “No,” he whined.

 “It’s okay.” 18 extended her hand so Goten can touch her bracelets. “Not that I care what anyone thinks but are you saying I have to wait ten years before everyone stops looking at me as if I will kill them?”

 “I think ten years will only be for me. They’ve matured some so you’ll never go through what I went through with them.”

 Krillin only shared ChiChi being Goku’s wife with a bad temper who hated all of them. He mostly talked about Goku, Gohan, Yamcha and sometimes Bulma. What Krillin told her about ChiChi and what she saw was different. “I know you don’t get along with them. What did Krillin do?”

 “I’m not gonna badmouth your boyfriend to you,” ChiChi wasn’t falling for that trap. “There were things I wished was handled better but Krillin has to tell you.”

 “You could tell me.”

 ChiChi shook her head too smart for that. “I could but if I talk badly about your boyfriend, would you believe me or defend him?”

 18 removed one of her bracelets and handed it to Goten. “You don’t think I’m open minded to hear both sides?”

 Goten gripped the bracelet in his tiny hands. ChiChi and 18 were humored with Goten’s fascination of it. “I think you should question why Krillin told you one side and not the whole story.” ChiChi groaned when Goten bit the jewelry. “Goten,” she scolded her son while pulling the bracelet from his mouth.

 18 thought over what ChiChi said. Krillin said ChiChi hated all of them and she has a bad temper. When 18 pried for more information, Krillin mentioned the remote incident and 18 accepted that was the reason but now she felt there was more to this hate. “So, this isn’t over just the remote?”

 ChiChi shook her head wryly. “Talk to him.”

 18 decided she will. Krillin will tell her everything or else. She smiled suddenly not feeling bored anymore.

 “Did you enjoy my dress?”

 18’s eyebrows wrinkled at ChiChi’s question. “What dress?”

 “When Goku, Gohan and I returned home, our home was a mess. I noticed one of my dresses missing.” ChiChi bounced Goten in her lap. “I was angry at first but I got over it. I have plenty of dresses even though I really did like that one.”

 Oh. That dress. 18 remembered holding the dress in front of a mirror in Son Goku’s home. The rose qipao dress was very pretty and with it being her size 18 couldn’t resist taking it. “You have a closet full of clothes. I didn’t think you’d noticed one missing. Besides, I was locked up in Dr. Gero’s lab. I deserve a new wardrobe.”

 ChiChi knew nothing about 17 and 18’s experience with Dr. Gero but knowing what a psycho he was with his desire to seek revenge on her husband, she suspected it wasn’t a great experience. “Dr. Gero sounds like a monster. It couldn’t be comforting living with him. I guess you are staying with Krillin and Master Roshi.” 18 didn’t answer but ChiChi suspected it’s true. “Master Roshi is an upgrade over Dr. Gero but Krillin owes you a new wardrobe having you live there with that lecher and not in a place of your own.”

 This time 18 lips turned up in a sly smile. 18 got the vibe Krillin wasn’t a big fan of ChiChi but 18 decided, she liked her.

 ****

 18 found herself alone again when ChiChi joined Bulma and Master Roshi in a game of Poker. Gohan sat next to ChiChi with Goten in his lap. While the sons cheered on their Mom, 18 watched from afar knowing she wouldn’t be welcomed.

 Krillin sat in the spot once occupied by ChiChi. He sipped his beer as he watched the game. “How did you get a Full House?” Bulma screamed as ChiChi showed her winning hand.

 “I didn’t know ChiChi played Poker,” Krillin sipped his beer as ChiChi celebrated with her sons. “She doesn’t seem like the type to know how.” While he played games with his friends, he saw ChiChi talking to 18. He didn’t hear any screaming from ChiChi. He hoped it meant they got along but he needed to be sure. “How did it go with ChiChi?”

 “She wasn’t what you warned me about.”

 Krillin was relieved to hear that. “That’s good. She doesn’t like me and I never expected her to talk to you without screaming you tried to kill Goku.”

 Krillin warned her but after talking to ChiChi, 18 felt she didn’t get the full story from Krillin. “What did Bulma mean when she said, ‘We could’ve kept it quiet from ChiChi like we used to do’? It didn’t sound like Bulma was only talking about the remote.”

 Oh, boy. Bulma and her big mouth. He thought 18 forgot about that but she was too sharp, observant and her suspicious eyes told him she wasn’t letting this go. He had to tell her the truth. “When Goku died the first time, we didn’t let ChiChi know he was dead or Gohan was taken by Piccolo.”

 “For how long?” Krillin told her this story but a loose version of it. Goku died saving his son and Piccolo trained Gohan to prepare for the fight against Vegeta and Nappa. The details were always glossed over. He never mentioned ChiChi.

 “A day.” Six years later and it still sounded bad. “ChiChi came to Master Roshi’s island wanting to know where they were.”

 “Taken?” 18 repeated. “As in kidnapped?”

 “Taken is a nicer word.”

 A nicer word? 18 gazed at Gohan. He was ten now but when this happened, he was so much younger. Knowing Gohan was a very young child kidnapped triggered her own painful memories with Dr. Gero. No wonder ChiChi didn’t like them! “So, you let ChiChi wander all night where her husband and son were? She had to go to you to find out what happened to her family?”

 18 was upset. Krillin knew it and will pay for it later. “Yeah, and ChiChi wasn’t told what was really happening on Namek.” Krillin decided to get it all out in the open. Sooner or later, 18 will find out. “She thought Goku and Gohan were playing around but that part wasn’t my fault. That was Bulma’s.”

 With the way Bulma greeted her, 18 didn’t find this surprising. All this gave 18 a deeper perception of ChiChi. “She’s generous.”

 “Generous? Who?”

 “ChiChi. If you knew my brother was dead for a day and let me confront you instead of telling me immediately, I would’ve killed you.” 18 said it so casually but Krillin knew it was a threat and something she will do if he ever did this to her. 18 pushed back a lock of her blonde hair as she turned her attention back on the Poker game. “ChiChi invited me to visit her. I think I’ll do that.”

 Krillin nodded okay as he drunk his beer. Lazuli and ChiChi talking and becoming friends? I don’t know if this is a good thing for them or a bad thing for me.

 At the Poker table, ChiChi, Bulma and Master Roshi had an audience. It grew from Gohan and Goten to Bulma’s parents, Gyu-Mao, Yamcha and his girlfriend, Oolong and Puar. Vegeta remained far away as usual. Hearing Master Roshi and Bulma curse at their losses to ChiChi had them intrigued. Two of the games ChiChi bluffed to victory which infuriated her opponents they were fooled by someone they considered very emotional and easy to read.

 Master Roshi pushed in his remaining chips. “I’m ready.” Older with more skills, Master Roshi didn’t like losing. Two of the game losses, he did blame himself looking at Bulma’s breasts in her tight shirt with poking nipples and ChiChi’s fuller breasts. This time he had the hot hand.

 “Already?!” Bulma nearly screeched. Last time ChiChi bluffed her way to victory. Now Master Roshi was doing it. Bulma looked at her cards. It was a good hand. No. It was a winning hand. She pushed in her chips. “I’m in.”

 All eyes were on ChiChi. “Well, I wasn’t ready,” she grumbled irritated, “but I guess I don’t have a choice.”

 ChiChi’s frustration made Master Roshi gleefully cackle. This was the first time ChiChi showed anger in a game. That meant she knew she lost and he won! He flipped his cards. “Beat this!” Jack, ten and a pair of nines.

 Bulma cackled victoriously. She had this one! “Gotcha, Old Man! Two pairs of tens and nines! Whoo!” She stood up to dance. “You owe me and I’m not letting you off the hook because I’m rich!”

 “But Bulma,” Gohan interrupted Bulma’s victory dance. “Mom hasn’t revealed her hand.”

 So busy celebrating Bulma forgot about ChiChi but from her sour expression, it was obvious ChiChi lost.  “Sorry. I celebrated too soon. I’ll celebrate after you show your hand.”

 ChiChi looked at her cards and sighed. “We were playing for real money?” ChiChi asked again. “I owe you?”

 “No,” Bulma laughed. She would never make ChiChi pay. Gloating was payment for Bulma. “I won’t make you pay, ChiChi. If you won, I would pay you. A few thousand zeni is nothing to me but since you didn’t win and I did.....”

 ChiChi placed her cards down. “But I thought two pairs of Kings and nines are higher than two pairs of tens and nines.”

 Everyone leaned over to read ChiChi’s cards. Gohan picked up a little of the game watching ChiChi. He didn’t understand everything but he did know his mother’s hand were the best ones. “Mom, you won!!”

 Goten clapped and giggled. “Momma won! Momma won!”

 Bulma dropped in her seat. “What the hell?” She studied her and ChiChi’s cards. ChiChi’s cards were higher but Bulma was still in denial. “But I won.”

 Yamcha laughed. He took more pleasure than others in Bulma getting a loss. He patted her shoulder. “Oh, too bad, Bulma.” Bulma’s icy glare made Yamcha flinch and clamp his hands over his mouth.

 “Does that mean I really win?” ChiChi wanted to be sure. “I win four thousand zeni?”

 Bulma rolled her eyes sourly. She gave her word. “I guess so, but how are you so good at Poker? You learned how to play today.”

 ChiChi couldn’t resist smirking at her victory. “You assumed I didn’t know and volunteered to teach me. Goku told me he likes letting you all think what you want about him. I decided to do the same.” ChiChi clapped gleefully. “I can’t believe I won! This money will come in handy. I can buy that computer for you, Gohan, get new clothes for everyone…..”

 As ChiChi gushed over what she will spend her money on and receive congratulations from everyone even Master Roshi, Bulma’s temper cooled. It still bothered her she was conned but it was funny and gave more insight into ChiChi. The woman was a guarded fortress. Bulma couldn’t get anything out of her but seeing another layer removed, seeing another lighthearted side of ChiChi had Bulma thinking the loops she was going through to be friends with ChiChi was worth it.

 ****

 As time passed in the afterlife, Goku grew less like a visitor and more as someone comfortable in his new home. Like King Kai said there were so many people to talk and learn from. Goku felt more comfortable with the warriors at Grand Kai’s home and spent less time in the land of only the good people. Even his visits to Grandpa Gohan lessen.  

 Being among the fighters kept Goku busy. He was a sponge, studying and learning anything beneficial from other fighters. Most times he spent alone pushing himself further. Gohan inspired him to go beyond a Super Saiyan. In death, he was free from the limits of a mortal body and vowed to reach Gohan’s level.

 King Kai observed Goku as he sparred in the air with a fighter from the West Kai quadrant. Fighters from the west were notoriously strong and the only fighters besides the ones in the North quadrant to give Goku a challenge.

 Fighting was common in this place and no one batted an eye when warriors spar but when Goku fought, others took notice or held onto something since Goku’s fights usually cause quakes.  

 It was these tremors that irritated East Kai’s arrival with her newest fighter.

 “Does this land always suffer from tremors?” the warrior elevated over the ground while East Kai struggled to stay upright on her scooter.

 “No,” East Kai wobbled on her scooter. “This is Son Goku. He’s fighting someone again. There are other places on the planet he can go fight without rattling the planet but that jerk Kai of the North wants to show off his best student.”

 The fighter reach out to feel the Ki. Both were very strong but one succeeded the other. As East Kai and her fighter strolled the area, other warriors took notice of the new fighter. One stared while walking into a wall. Another nearly dropped one of his heavy weights. The East Kai fighter ignored the attention but East Kai cackled. “I knew you will make a splash here. If you impress by your looks imagine the reaction when they see your skills, Kimani.”

 Kimani was very aware of her beauty. Her lithe, muscular frame, sleek black hair and cerulean eyes garnered attention but she thought in the afterlife in a land among warriors, her beauty wouldn’t be as captivating as her skills as a fighter.

 “I thought it would be different here, but as long as there are fighters I can learn and develop from, I’ll be happy.”

 “There are plenty of them here,” East Kai guaranteed. “As much as I hate to say, your best challengers will be fighters from the North and West quadrant. You are a rare breed from my quadrant. My fighters are known for speed but you are on another level with your strength and skills. Your speed gives you a great advantage.”

 When East Kai and Kimani reached the courtyard of the palace, the tremors resumed again. This time East Kai fell off her scooter. Kimani kept her balance but the source of the tremors caught her eyes. Two fighters, one East Kai called Goku were engaged in an intense battle. Their punches in the sky clapped like boisterous thunder. They were both very good Kimani observed. The way they moved their bodies, blocking and striking each other were of individuals with years of battle experience.

 “I can’t see them!” Kimani heard a fighter say. They couldn’t see but Kimani did.

 The stronger fighter Kimani guessed as Goku expelled a bright sphere of Ki from his body. His opponent deflected the attack with a punch that shattered the sphere in a massive explosion. Meteors of Ki rained on everyone below. Fighters scattered, ducking for cover and dodging the raining Ki. One hit the ground not far from Kimani and created a foot-deep crater. More rained in her direction and Kimani sliced the raining Ki meteors away from her and East Kai with her knifehand strike. Through it all Goku and his opponent didn’t miss a step in their fighting.

 Impressive there are fighters like these in the afterlife. Kimani smiled as she gazed at the battling warriors. I think I will like it here.

 Part 34: Waiting For You

[dreamlover31]

Love Will Find a Way: Chapter 17

For the next few weeks after their return from their mini vacation, things between Alexa and Rafael resumed into a state of normalcy. Rafael continued to work long hours reviewing his case notes and preparing for ongoing trials, meanwhile, Alexa moved on to her duties pertaining to the registration and protection of women and children in need. However, when they had a break from their busy day to day lives, they enjoyed the comforts of snuggling on the couches of each other’s apartments while watching an old movie or giving his and hers foot rubs.

On more than one occasion, they partake in long strolls through central park, on a particularly crisp autumn morning; they walked hand in hand as their eyes basked in the glory that was the changing of the leaves. A rainbow of orange, yellow and small tints of brown flowed along the path, as the wind blew; a few leaves passed by them. Suddenly, in the middle of the gravel trail, Alexa felt her stomach bubbling with uneasiness; the contents of her stomach threatened to upchuck through her mouth until a hand is pressed up against it.

At one point, she leaned forward a bit with a free hand on her thigh, it took a few seconds to swallow down the buildup and regain composure. Rafael placed a hand on the small of her back and looked at her with a gaze of worry, once he was certain that she was alright, he asked:

“Carino are you alright?”

“Yeah…it must have been something I ate”

“Ok, how about we head on home and I’ll make you that honey milk tea you like and put you to bed”

Alexa returned his glance with a soft smile, as she gently stroked his cheek, she replied:

“You are such a sweet man…how did I get so lucky?”

“Luck had nothing to do with it”

She chuckled while her hand switched from his cheek to interlock with his, they made their way to one of the exits that surrounded the park and hailed a cab back to Alexa’s apartment, as soon as they entered, Rafael and Alexa shed their coats and slipped out of their shoes.

He reiterated that she lay down and that he’d be there shortly with her tea, with a nod, Alexa stepped into her bedroom where she changed into her black yoga pants and a grey shirt. She tucked herself under the covers and leaned back against her fluffed up pillows, in the meantime, Rafael was busy in the kitchen filling the tea kettle with water then sat it on top of the stove top.

A few minutes ticked by before he heard the whistling sounds from the tea kettle, once he switched the knobs to the off position, he picked up a dish towel and used it to cover the handle as he poured the liquid into an awaiting mug. He grabbed a tea packet from the box that sat across the counter then dipped and swirled it into the hot water, he used the same dish towel to cover the underside of the coffee mug while he walked towards the bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar so he elbowed his way through, he sat beside Alexa as he handed her the mug but also made a note to her to be careful since the mug was hot.

She took a whiff of the sweet and savory scent then blew at the steam emitting from it until the beverage was at an appropriate temperature for her to drink, slowly, she sipped the tea. A satisfied hum emanated through her closed lips as the warm liquid slid down her throat, after a few more sips, she could feel her stomach starting to settle.

She set the mug on the nightstand next to her and looked over to Rafael where he positioned himself on the bed where one leg dangled off the bed, while the other was crossed to where his foot was touching his thigh.

“Are you feeling a little better?”

“Yeah, thank you”

“Your welcome”

Alexa pulled back the covers on the right side of the bed and patted the mattress to signal to Rafael to join her, he crawled across the bed on all fours and turned his body into a lying position, then he covered himself from the waist up. Alexa laid her head on his chest while at the same time, Rafael wrapped his arm around her.

The tea began to take an effect on her, her eyelids began to flutter closed and a in a few seconds, she was sound asleep; Rafael stroked her back as his eyelids started to get heavy. Another few short seconds passed before he drifted off to sleep, by the next morning, Alexa was slumped over the toilet bowl with Rafael behind her holding her hair up.

A moment went by before he helped Alexa to her feet, he wiped off the little bit of vomit from her mouth with a piece of toilet paper and then cradled her face in his hands, he gazed at her with a sympathetic smile then told her:

“I think you should make an appointment to see a doctor”

“Rafi, it’s just a stomach virus…I’m not dying”

“Carino…you were throwing up half the night and even now, you’re still sick. I just think it’s better to be safe than sorry”

Alexa sighed, “Alright, I’ll see if my doctor can squeeze me in today”

Rafael gave a small nod and placed a kiss on her forehead, during the time that he was getting ready for another court appearance, Alexa made a call to her doctor; it was a stroke of luck that she could fit Alexa into her schedule for later that day.

After she hung up the phone, Rafael emerged from the bedroom dressed in a navy-blue suit and striped tie, he pecked her lips on his way out the door with his briefcase in hand. She took a quick shower and put on some comfortable clothes then upon exiting the building, she flagged down a cab and made her way down to her doctor’s office.

When the cabbie received payment, she got out and went through the double-sided doors of the small building, she checked herself in with the nurse at the front desk and sat in the waiting area; 10 minutes passed then at the corner of her eye, she spotted her doctor coming down the hallway. Her doctor, Elizabeth Gordon, lead the way down the hallway to one of the examination rooms, Alexa sat on top of the examination table all the while she explained to her about her nausea.

“I mean it’s probably nothing more than some kind of bug, right?”

“Yeah, sometimes stress can also be a factor, but let me get a sample of your blood and I’ll run some tests”

“Ok”

She rolled up her sleeve then in that instant, her doctor made a tourniquet around her arm, once a vein appeared; she stuck a needle into Alexa’s arm and in a matter of seconds, a test tube became filled with blood. A bandage was put in place before her doctor left the room with the blood sample, it took about 20 minutes or so for her to return, as soon as the door closed, the tall blonde dressed in a blouse and pencil skirt with a lab coat draped over her stood in front of Alexa with a clipboard in her hand.

“Well, what’s the prognosis?”

“I’ll get to that in a minute, but first I need to ask you some questions”

“Alright, shoot”

“Ok, are you currently in a relationship?”

“Yes”

“Alright, how often do you have sex?”

“Uh…well when he’s not too tired from a long day in court, I’d say a few times in a week…then of course we took a trip to the rockaways where it was a lot more than a few times,” she chuckled.

“Ok, do you use protection?”

“Yeah, always…why?”

Elizabeth displayed a serious look towards her, after a moment, she sighed and parted her lips to speak.

“Well per your test results, I’m afraid congratulations are in order”

Alexa sat in silence, a flurry of emotions spun in her head, wait…did I hear her correctly…there’s no way, I mean we’ve always been careful…oh man, it must have been that last day at the beach house. Oh, god, how am I going to break this to Rafael?

Elizabeth lowered herself at eye level with Alexa and put her hand on her shoulder.

“Alexa…are you ok?”

Alexa’s eyes met Elizabeth’s, her expression shifted from one of bafflement to one of acceptance, she grinned happily as she said: “Oh my god…I’m pregnant”

Tagging: @madpanda75 @laceybellerain @southern-magnolia @tropes-and-tales @madamsnape921 @teamsladsandgents @karens-imagined-world @glimmerglittergirl @thatesqcrush @youreverycolor @beccabarba

[doof-doofblog]

"I've Got Everything Under Control!"

Friday 8th December 2021

Hello again everyone! Hope you're having a good weekend so far! Before we jump into the review of last nights episode, I have a little bit of a spoiler for you! It's been announced that there's going to be some big changed ahead for the Panesar family! What the entails however, remains to be seen! Part of me telling me that maybe we'll get a new member of the family, like the Father? We've heard a lot about Ash, Vinny and Kheerat's Father being in prison - but for what? Is he really a dangerous man, which is why the Panesar family behave the way they do? Who knows? What do you think the changes could be? Will we see a new family member or will the family go down a really dark road? Either way I'm looking forward to seeing it all unfold!

Firstly, let's talk about Sharon, Ian and their party to celebrate their marriage! It is just me or does anyone else actually feel sorry for Sharon? She's having to put on this absolute charade of actually being in love with Ian! Obviously she is doing this to get justice for her son, but something tells me she won't really be able to carry on for much longer. She is hating every single moment of being in Ian's presence, even more so being his wife! You can see the awkwardness in her face as when everyone is gathered in the pub to celebrate with the couple and she's stood behind the bar with Ian and he makes a romantic announcement and gesture of buying her a ring and placing it on her finger. She looks incredibly awkward and a little nervous also, but even having to kiss him must be awful for her, especially when she doesn't love him. When Ian says the words "I love you, Mrs Beale!" you can tell she can't even say the words back to him, she simply can't. Even if she is trying to play him, she refuses to say it! Even though I feel for Sharon, she is clearly a woman on a mission and she won't rest until her mission is complete, as later as she approaches Phil, he warns her that she needs to tread carefully if she's still planning on poisoning Ian. He's insisting that they wait a few more days until they start giving him more pills, however when Sharon reveals that she got pills from Jean, without her knowledge, Phil is stunned and warns her that she can't be stealing pills from other people and there could be a risk of getting the police involved. Regardless of his warning, Sharon makes it perfectly clear that she wants to job done as soon as possible, and if he refuses to help her, she'll do it herself!

The second thing I want to mention is Sonia. After a visibly emotional couple of days, she seems to have taken Ash's advice and come to the decision to take a flight to India and see her daughter, Bex and have a break. I just want to point out that this DOES NOT mean that Natalie Cassidy is leaving the soap for good, she is taking a temporary break and will be back later in the Spring. The only thing that is bugging me really is, we still don't know for sure what was causing Sonia to have her emotional outbreaks? Was it simply due to the fact that, because of her being a nurse and being surrounded by patients suffering and dying from Coronavirus, had it all got too much for her? And I'm still interested in finding out what that piece of jewellery was all about. She did explain it was from a patient she looked after - maybe I'm looking into too much, but I don't know, something tells me there's more to it? Will this break do her some good? How will she be feeling when she returns? All these questions are going through my head, even though I'm pretty sure the answers will remain a mystery. Before she leaves anyhow, she bumps into Martin and she can see he's got his own worries on his mind. With their history, she encourages Martin to open up to her. Before he does, he makes her promise not to mention it to anyone else, she gives him her word and he reveals that Ruby is pregnant. Sonia is clearly surprised by this news, but she can see from her ex's face that he's not at all happy about it, she questions whether they were even trying for a baby and he reveals that they weren't. Is Martin maybe thinking that Ruby cheated on him? Does he believe the baby is? Before she leaves, Sonia warns Martin that he has to speak to his wife about how he's feeling about her supposed pregnancy. I personally believe that Ruby is NOT pregnant, she's only saying that to keep hold of her husband, gain the attention she's desperately longing for, and also to get one up on Stacey! But if she isn't pregnant, it mean she will have to get pregnant pretty damn quick before her lies come to light! But, if not by Martin, then who? My first bet - Kush!!! What do you guys think? Is Ruby lying or telling the truth about her pregnancy?!

Thirdly, the next brief thing I want to mention is Gray and Karen. After a lengthy amount of time of the Atkins children living with her Grandparents, they have now moved back in with their Dad, even though Gray is happy to have his children back, Karen is visibly saddened. She asks her Son-In-Law whether she could still help more with the kids - take them to school, do their dinners etc etc. But Gray is adamant that he will be fine in supporting and being there for his children, however when Karen mentions that she's been telling the kids stories about their Mother, it looks as if he's not very happy with her interference. Later, when they're all sat at the dinner table, the children ask for a story about their Mum, much to Gray's surprise, Karen explains to him that it's been their ritual since living with them, having their dinner together and talking about Mummy. I have to mention though, did anyone see the disgust in Gray's face as his dinner was placed in front of him? I know it's bad but I found it kind of amusing how he wasn't impressed with the potato smilies and dinosaur chicken dippers placed in front of him! Suddenly the children start asking about Tina and where she was and how much they enjoyed her being around, it seems to get a bit too much for Gray, a little bit of anger gets to him and he informs his children that they won't be seeing Tina again and that she walked out on them! Even Karen is surprised by Gray's outburst - should Karen be more careful whilst she's around him? Something tells me he is going to more and more angry with her, of course she's just trying to help and keep the children close to their Mum, but he will end up resenting her for it and grow more and more angry and think she's interfering. Karen had better be very careful, I'd hate for her to be his 3rd victim! Also I just want to mention how lovely it is to finally see Bailey back! Feel like it's been so long since we've seen her!

The next thing I want to mention is Frankie. I'm so glad she's back and it's nice to see her having some screen time! Interestingly, she visits the Carter household in an attempt to see Mick, but unfortunately he's not there and she's left with Linda. I have to say though, this is the first time Linda has seen Frankie since learning the truth about her identity and I have to say how much I loved her kindness towards her, even offering to give her her number incase she ever needed anything. For some reason, I thought Linda would be full of questions for Frankie, but I think deep down, she knows that whatever happened between Mick and Katy, it's not Frankie's fault and she can't take it out on her. Frankie is innocent in all this and is a victim, just as much as Mick is, the only one who Linda's anger should be targeted at is Katy! Something tells me that Linda would be welcoming to Frankie and let her be a part of their family. It'll be interesting when Frankie finds out that Linda knows who she is. Later when Frankie attends the bar, she seems to be drinking her worries away - everything she's learnt about Mick and her Mum, even her Mum's offer to fly her away to Australia, she must feel that there's something not quite right? I have to mention that it's so nice to have Ben and Callum bumping into Frankie again after such a long time! Frankie was such a big impact on Ben's hearing loss storyline - it's nice to see them rekindling their friendship. However, when Ben and Callum share a kiss in the club, a bystander hurls abuse towards them, to which Frankie takes it upon herself to stand up for her friends. But when he suddenly mocks her, Frankie sees red and lashes out, beating the youth to a pulp. Ben and Callum have to rush to drag Frankie off of him, poor Callum though - after witnessing everything and having to follow his job role, he knows he can't simply let her go, even if she was sticking up for him and his boyfriend. Frankie is arrested for assault. Whilst at the station she decides to make a call to Linda, even though Linda knows it's her calling, she can't answer the phone at that current time as she's in the apartment with Mick. If he knew that she has given her number to his daughter, how would he react?! He's mentioned that he wants to try and forget about it, but I feel it's going to be hard for them not to? With Frankie back and Katy likely to make another appearance any time soon, I think it'll come to clear to the Carter family that Katy needs to get her comeuppance. After not being able to get through to Linda, Frankie then decides to call her Mum - what's going to happen next?!

Finally, the last thing I want to mention is Lucas, Denise, Patrick and Chelsea. Following the previous episode after Patrick collapses after having a confrontation with Lucas, it looked as if Lucas was going to leave Patrick to die. However Lucas did call an ambulance, informing the operator on the end of the phone that Patrick is having another stroke, however when they ask for Lucas's name - he simply hangs up the phone, as he knows he can't give that information. Later, after Denise has had a private word with Jack, she returns home to find Patrick alone and slumped on the couch, it becomes clear to her that he's in desperate need of an ambulance, she begins to panic and starts to call an ambulance. Poor Patrick though is trying to tell her something, only he can only muster one word "Lucas!" - leaving Denise even more terrified. She contemplates what he's trying to say - Did Lucas do this to him? Was Lucas in their house? Suddenly, an ambulance pulls up outside just in time and she rushes them in to Patrick's aid. The next big question is - Who called the ambulance?! Later at the hospital, all the family have gathered to hear on Patrick's progress - Denise, Sheree, Isaac and Kim are all waiting to hear news of the man who's at the very centre of their family. Eventually it becomes known that he has suffered another stroke and that he will have to be given more medication. Suddenly, Denise phone rings and it appears to be her daughter, Chelsea on the other line - interestingly she asks how Patrick is. Now this instantly answer's Denise's question - she wouldn't have known about Patrick unless Lucas knew, which means that he was there in their house when Patrick collapsed. Chelsea confirms this and asks her Mum to meet them as Lucas wants to talk to her. Denise seems very reluctant, but agrees to her daughter's request. Eventually she meets them away from the Square in an unknown Cafe ....  (Does anyone know what or where this Cafe is? As I've noticed it's been used a lot in recent months for secret meetings and for revels of character's returning!) ...  As Denise sits herself away from Lucas, she notices the bruises on his face, instantly he questions her involvement or her knowledge about his attack. Denise is instantly insulted and claims she has no knowledge about it, let alone has anything to do with it! However, when Lucas mentions Phil - it seems that she might know who was behind his attack, Patrick - but of course she wouldn't tell him that! Before she leaves, she warns him to stay away from the Square otherwise she will call the police! After she leaves, Lucas and Chelsea are sat together when her phone begins to ring, when Lucas proposes to buy her another drink, she steps outside to take the call - this is when things start to look a hell of a lot more interesting. It's unknown who she's on the phone to, but she's telling them she's getting the job done as soon as she can and she has everything under control! It becomes clear that she was in fact the one who was behind her Father's attack! Who is she talking to? Is Chelsea also out for revenge on her Father?! What is her secret?!

Oooooo so many questions and I can't wait to see everything revealed. So many things I'm looking forward to! Katy getting her comeuppance! I pray that Frankie will stay in the soap and become part of the Carter family! What's going to happen between Lucas and the Fox family?! Will Patrick be okay? Is Karen going to be Gray's 3rd victim?! When will Sharon's actions towards Ian come to light, and when will he know that she's aware of his actions due to her son's death?! Oh my gosh! There's so much speculation and I'm loving it!! Ha! I hope you've enjoyed reading! I hope you all have a brilliant weekend! I'll look forward to hearing any comments you may have! I'll be back very soon! Thank you all for your on-going support! Love you all xXx

[twdeadfanfic]

Golden Cage Pt.12

DARYL DIXON X READER

Summary:  The reader is one of Negan’s wives, kept against her will in the golden cage that is the Sanctuary. When they brought Daryl in, she can’t take to see more suffering, and she tries helping him, until she gathers enough courage to ask him to help her run away from there.

Set in season 7, 8 and (sort of) 9. Angst, Hurt/Comfort, there’s some fluff in here sometimes too, and also language, violence, and all those twd kind of things.

Disclaimer: For me, and as much as I love the actor and I think him an interesting character, Negan is a villain, and in this story, he’s certanly the villain in Reader’s life. So if you don’t like to see portrayed Negan like that, then please don’t read instead of sending hate…

Chapter 12/24 Updated twice a week, posting Monday and Thursday

If you want to read more of my Daryl Dixon stories (long series, mini-series, one shots…) check my MASTERLIST on the description of this blog.

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Days seemed to fly as everyone kept getting ready for the fight, and before you knew it, the day before the big fight arrived.

You’d reviewed the plans a hundred times with Maggie, and yet you felt as if you could panic at any moment. You’d stay at the Hilltop with one of the walkies, Maggie would have another one to talk to you, so you could give instructions about what to do if someone got injured and also to inform you if they were bringing back someone hurt so you could have everything ready.

Maggie was with the group that would attack the Sanctuary, while Jesus would go to attack the remaining outposts, and Daryl would be the one leading the herd of walkers to the Sanctuary. You didn’t know which one sounded more dangerous or worried you more, but you knew you were worried out of your mind.

You were feeling short of breath half of the time, but you were trying not to show it, trying to get a hold on yourself, so as to be useful and help as much as possible.

You were now sat down on a picnic table at the outside of the medical trailer, feeling quite overwhelmed by everything, but the sound of a bike riding into the Hilltop brought a smile to your face. Daryl. He’d come. You waved at him, grinning like an idiot, and he made his way to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi! You come to talk to Maggie?”

Daryl hummed a yes and looked away from you. “To you too,” he muttered, making your stomach do those stubborn twirls.

“They told me you’re going to be guiding the herd…sounds dangerous.”

“Ain’t the first time,” Daryl replied as he sat down next to you. “It’ll be okay.” You could only hope so. “We got all sorted out.”

You couldn’t believe that maybe in a couple of days you all might be free from the Saviors…a week listening to Maggie talking and planning had made you believe that it was almost possible, but you knew Negan well, and you were scared of how things might go, a big part of you afraid of your new friends being massacred. Still, you decided not to say anything. You didn’t want to think about it and you knew Daryl didn’t share your thoughts, set only on winning no matter what.

“What will you do, once this is over…like…if-when you win?” You asked instead.

“Dunno…” Daryl shrugged, frowning, and you got the feeling he hadn’t thought much about it. “Guess I’ll help around Alexandria…”

You nodded in silence…that meant that you wouldn’t see him often, if you kept staying at the Hilltop…you weren’t surprised about how little you liked the idea, even though you still didn’t know how could you have gotten so attached to Daryl. But he was a good guy, even if he was a troubled one, and he treated you with kindness…you liked his company and it was easy for you to talk to him…you liked him, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Alexandria was Maggie’s home too right? Before all this?” You asked. “She’ll be back too?”

“Dunno…she seems to be stepping as a leader here, she’d be a good one.” Daryl was right, you could see it. “Would like her to go back home but…up to her. What about you? Got something you wanna do?”

“I…I don’t know…” You realized you hadn’t given it much thought either. “I never thought I’d be free of that place…I guess I could keep working here as a nurse.”

Daryl hummed at that, and he gave you a quick side glance before looking down. “You could come to visit Alexandria one day. Maybe. If you want.”

A smile spread across your face. You’d like it, you’d like it very much…would he want it too, or was he just being polite? You felt giddy at the idea of Daryl actually wanting you to go visit him.

“I’d like that a lot.” You grinned and Daryl looked at you, small lopsided smile on his face that sent those twirls to your stomach again. Then he frowned, looking at you up and down, making you feel rather self-conscious. “What?”

“Nothing, just…” Daryl looked away quickly. “You just kind of look more pregnant now.”

“Oh…” You looked down at your belly, you didn’t think it was bigger, but it was starting to take more the form of a very tiny baby bump, which could be seen now as you wore a fit tank top instead of the loose shirts you had been wearing since you could ditch Negan’s damn black dress. “Yeah, I guess I’m about four months pregnant now or so… maybe more than a month further than Maggie as I first thought…”

You hadn’t really paid much attention to the details at the Sanctuary, not looking forward to having baby Negan.

“I gotta talk to Maggie.”

“Okay, I’ll walk you to her.” You got up. “She’s talking with a woman from the Kingdom, a friend of yours, you told me about her-”

“Carol?” Daryl asked before you could finish.

“Yeah.”

Daryl didn’t say anything else, but you couldn’t help your smile at the way his eyes lighted up at that.

Later that day, after you listened worriedly to more dangerous plans being made, you walked Daryl back to his bike, it was time for him to make his way back to Alexandria and help to get everything ready for the next day.

“Be careful tomorrow.”

Daryl nodded, getting onto his bike. “Listen to Maggie, alright?” It was your time to nod now, and you felt a lump in your throat knowing that tomorrow he’d be headed to all sorts of dangers, from leading walkers to attacking the Sanctuary itself, and raiding outposts. Daryl reached out, patting your arm softly.

“Daryl…” You called weakly when he turned to look forward.

“Yeah?”

Instead of answering, you reached out to wrap your arms around him gingerly, hoping you would make him uncomfortable or angry. You felt him stiff, but also his hands came to rest softly on your waist, holding you back. It lasted only a few seconds, no one of you looking at each other as you pulled away.

“Take care,” Daryl said quietly before riding away.

You blinked quick, trying to stop the tears that threatened to fall down your eyes. You did cry the next morning, though, saying goodbye to Maggie, looking at her and Jesus march off to battle, leaving you there to worry about them, scared to death about your new friends, about the idea of the people who you were starting to love and care for so much, dying that day. They walked which such confidence, though…you wished you could walk like that too.

*

You rubbed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths, trying to win the fight against your lungs that wanted to stop working. You needed to control yourself, you needed to keep helping, you couldn’t just cry…

You had spent the last few hours being informed through walkie about how things were going at the Sanctuary, giving instructions about how to give first aid to the people injured, and now you were getting everything ready to help the ones that were going to be brought in soon. Several people had been injured,  some had died, but they had told you the plan had worked, leaving the Sanctuary surrounded by walkers, Negan and his Saviors trapped inside.

Soon the cars were driving into the Hilltop and you shifted to nurse mood, helping everyone who needed it. Maggie was back, safe and sound, though Jesus didn’t come back until later, almost when the sun was down. To everyone’s surprise, he brought with him a group of captive Saviors.

It took hours for Maggie to decide, in her role of the new leader of the Hilltop now, but finally she decided not to kill them, allowing them to stay locked at the Hilltop. You were tired of so much death, and you knew maybe some of those Saviors could change, some might even not be that bad, but still…having them so close scared you and filled you with anxiety.

That day another man from Alexandria came to stay at the Hilltop, a friend of Maggie, Jesus, and Daryl, called Aaron. He brought with him a baby girl who Daryl and Rick had found in an outpost. She was all babbly cuteness, but the idea of Rick and Daryl murdering her father during the outpost’s raid made you feel uneasy.

Aaron had taken the baby as his, but you could see he was hurting. You didn’t want to ask or pry, but by what you could gather, he seemed to have lost his boyfriend during the Sanctuary attack. It saddened you to no end, but you didn’t know how to help. He seemed to feel better whenever he held baby Gracie, though. You’d never had much motherly instinct, but whether it was the hormones or something else, you found yourself drawn to the baby too, holding her and cuddling her whenever you could, and so did Maggie. It seemed little Gracie had a thing to comfort people, even if she was still just a baby.

Late that night, when you finally could go back to sleep, you locked the door of the trailer, but still, nightmares of the Saviors breaking out of their makeshift prison and taking you hostage, bringing you back to Negan, haunted you. Each time you woke up, you found yourself wishing Daryl was there, sleeping on the couch or the bedroll...you wondered what he might be doing now, back in Alexandria hopefully. Maggie had told you that the last time she saw him, as he lead the herd to the Sanctuary’s doors, he’d been fine, but then he’d left with Rick to one of the outposts…You told yourself he’d be just fine…you had to hope so.

*

The next day passed in a blur of helping people and listening to more planning, though now there wasn’t much to do but wait, everyone would go back to the Sanctuary in a couple of days and ask for their surrender. You still weren’t sure Negan would actually surrender, but they had told you how they had left the Sanctuary surrounded by a massive herd of walkers, so you hoped some of the Saviors decided to stand against Negan in order to save themselves.

It was late, the sun already going down, when you heard a bike. You walked towards the doors on time to see them opening, Daryl talking to the guards before riding inside. Your first thought was one of worry, no matter you always liked it when Daryl came, you were scared thinking something bad had happened. He wasn’t supposed to come, he was dismantling an outpost and then helping get everything ready in Alexandria, you didn’t expect to see him until after the Sanctuary surrendered.

You rushed to him as he dismounted the bike, and as you approached and noticed some scrapes on his face and a cut on his forehead, you couldn’t help but panic more.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Daryl nodded, looking down, and you felt something was off with him.

“You sure, but-”

“Ain’t nothing!” He snapped.

“Okay.” You bit your lip as his tone and he looked at you, muttering a sorry that wasn’t audible. You couldn’t pinpoint what, but there was definitely something off. “Need to talk to Maggie? I’ll go tell her you are here.”

“Didn’t come to talk to her…”

You frowned, confused, but Daryl wasn’t saying much else, still looking down. You wondered if he had come just to see you…it was a beautiful idea, but the timing was off, and you could feel there was something going on, something that wasn’t good, but you didn’t know how to ask.

“I did something…”

“What did you do?” You asked and Daryl glanced at you before looking down again, silent, and you tried to come up with another way to go about it. “Wanna come sit with me in my trailer?”

Daryl nodded, and he followed you back to your trailer. Once there, you signaled him to sit down on the couch, and to your surprise, he actually listened to you. You took the first aid kit you kept in the trailer, no matter the medical one was close, and you sat down next to Daryl. While you poured disinfectant on a gauze, Daryl stared at the ground with vacant eyes, seeming lost in thought, but when you reached out to clean the scrapes, he pulled away.

“Don’t,” you said softly. “Let me.” Daryl didn’t say anything but stayed still, allowing you to dab the gauze pad on his scrapes. It wasn’t severe at all, the worse one was on his forehead and it was a minor cut anyway, and it looked like Daryl had already cleaned his face, but still you wanted to disinfect all the cuts. “Now tell me what happened,” you asked gently when you finished.

Daryl was still looking down, but he began talking. “I was with Rick at the outpost and a guy drove away with a truck full of weapons. We followed him. I fell off my bike…it was nothing.” He added as if knowing how hearing that had worried you, scared he might have knocked his head, or bruised a rib, or hurt himself anywhere else. “Rick caught the truck…and we fought…I wanted to take the guns, go back to the Sanctuary, attack…having it surrounded by walkers ain’t enough…but Rick had other plans so we fought…and we lost the truck…”

You were trying to catch up on what Daryl was telling you, missing details here and there, but you were confused and surprised hearing of his disagreement with Rick, and you wondered how bad the fight had been…you bit your tongue so as not to say anything, afraid that if you stopped him, then Daryl might not keep speaking with you like that.

“But I knew that having walkers surrounding the Sanctuary wasn’t enough…so I went to Alexandria and asked Tara to help me with it, so we got a truck and we drove to the Sanctuary and through the fences, and I crashed it against a wall, made a hole so the walkers got inside…”

It took you a little while to process what Daryl was saying, and then you didn’t know what to feel, becoming a mess of feelings.

“You did what?” You looked at Daryl wide eyed, but he was still looking at the ground. “Walkers are getting in?!” What about the people who lived there? Would they be eaten? “But…but you know about the people who work there, who are forced to be there...the wives…”

“I crashed it on the other building,” he rasped. “The Savior’s one. Most workers should be good.”

“Most? And what about the others?!” You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “There could be people working at the Sanctuary building, you were! The wives live upstairs!” Were the women, your friends, being devoured right now? You felt tears in your eyes. You couldn’t believe Daryl would do such a  thing.

“They’ll be good…” Daryl murmured but he didn’t sound that convincing. “They can lock themselves in the rooms or something…we’ll go tomorrow, the Saviors will surrender and we’ll clear the walkers…”

“They could be dead by then! Not only the Saviors, you know it!” Your tears of fear and worry mixed with tears of anger.

“It had to be done, they had to be stopped…”

“At the cost of people’s lives?” You snapped. “Of the death of people who are forced to be in there?” Daryl didn’t say anything, just shrugged. “You don’t care, do you? You only care about killing Saviors and you don’t care about who gets killed to get that.” You got up, pacing around, trying to stop crying and keep breathing, while Daryl still didn’t say anything or looked up. “I told you, if I had been in an outpost you’d have killed me, and you said no, but you would. And right now, if I were there, you would have let me get devoured without bat an eye.”

You’d managed to keep breathing, standing with your back to Daryl, but you hadn’t managed to stop the tears.

“Ain’t like that…” You heard Daryl’s quiet voice and you shook your head, you couldn’t believe it. Then you felt him walking past you, out of the trailer, and you followed him outside.

“Where you going?”

“Back to Alexandria.” He replied without stopping.

“But it’s dark already! It’s dangerous.”

“What you care?” Daryl snapped, and honestly, it offended you.

You walked faster, grabbing his arm to make him stop so you could step in front of him. “You know I care.” You said firmly and Daryl scoffed.

“I know what you think of me,” he said without meeting your eyes.

“I’m…” You tried to make sense of your mix of feelings, and select your words carefully. “I’m disappointed at you, yeah. ‘Cause…’cause I think you’re a good man, okay? But you go and do something like that…something so horrible…I hate it.” You felt tears on your eyes again. “And maybe I don’t know you, but I still think you’re a good man, but if you keep going this way…then what are you going to be? I…I want to think you’re not like that. You helped me, you saved me…and you want to help your people, but do you want to do that by letting other good people die? It’s just…no.”

“They’ll be okay. We’ll clear the walkers tomorrow when the Saviors surrender.” Daryl rasped, eyes still glued to the ground.

“It could be too late. You know it.” Daryl glanced at you at that for a second, keeping his head down, and then he began walking to his bike again.

“Daryl…” You let out a sigh, following him. “Come on, it’s late. It’s dangerous.”

“Gotta go back to Alexandria, there’s stuff to do and I gotta be there in the morning,” he said as he got onto his bike.

“Okay…” You had to trust Daryl was skilled enough to not run into trouble while riding at night.

Daryl didn’t turn on the engine, didn’t look at you either, but then he spoke. “I’d have killed you. You’re right. If you’d been at the outpost and I didn’t know you. And I hadn’t known you were pregnant. I would.” You nodded, you had known it, yet you couldn’t help the tears that filled your eyes. “But…but I wouldn’t have left you at the Sanctuary with the walkers now…wouldn’t let you get hurt…”

You nodded again, you thought you knew that too. “Because you know me now, but what about the ones you don’t know? Other wives? They’re good women trying to deal with the situation they’re given…but…it looks as if you don’t care…”

Daryl didn’t say anything, but he looked at you for the first time. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Why you came to tell me?”

Daryl just shrugged, turning the engine and driving away.

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So we are halfway through the story and Daryl had to go and do that (It didn’t make sense to me in canon, but well...)

As always, thank you for reading, drop me a comment if you have time, those really make my day when I’m feeling insecure about this fic, and excuse my english and mistakes since it’s not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[lawandorderforevercsi]

Love and Family

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Miami Anthony Zuiker and CBS do.

Author's Note: Drabble style of my other favorite pair.

Genre: General

Rating: K+

Birthday

From the moment that Horatio got that call that Natalia was ready and in pain, he told Calleigh that she would be in charge for at least a few days. Calleigh knew why and mouthed, "Congrats."

Horatio then rushed out of the crime lab and into his hummer and headed to the hospital. Natalia had contacted him, saying she was in labor. When he arrived at their home. She was already standing outside with her hospital stay bag.

Horatio got out of the car and helped his wife into the car. He then jumped back into the driver's side of the car, took off for the hospital. While he was driving, he was asking, "How far are the contractions?"

Natalia replied, "Right now, five and…ow, ow. ow!"

A contraction hit and she began breathing in and out.

Horatio said, "We are almost there, my love. Hang in there."

They reached the hospital ER and parked in the closest spot to the door with the sirens. Everything was a blur after a nurse came by with a wheelchair for Natalia.

Hours later, they had a new birthday to celebrate and a newborn to love and cherish for the rest of their lives, their little girl Erin Marika Caine.

Family

It has finally happened their family had gone from six down to two. Horatio and Natalia's children have all moved out and on to the next chapter of their lives.

Erin, who followed in Natalia's footsteps and studied BioChem in college, was well on her way to becoming a doctor. Nathan, like his big brother before him joined the military. Only instead of the Army, Nathan joined the Navy. Then there were the babies of the family, Nicholas, and Sophia. Nicholas was in California attending one of the best colleges on the West Coast for engineering, while his twin sister is doing volunteer work before starting her first year at UNC.

Of the four of them, their brightest star was Erin. When Erin heard more about who her guardian angel was, she wanted to know all about her. Horatio had told her as much as he could before Eric told her more. It was this way Erin had grown very close with her Uncle Eric. When she started high school she had on a necklace with a locket that had Marisol's photo in. It became her good luck charm.

Grumble

This was not how Horatio or Natalia pictured they would spend their day off. The original plan was to take the kids to the park for a picnic and let them play at the playground to run off their seemingly excess energy. However, as they had everything ready to go and were one foot out the door when the thunder sounded, and then the clouds opened up, it began pouring rain, and just like that, their plans changed.

Horatio and Natalia grumbled. They went inside and closed the door. No sooner were Erin and her younger brother on the ground, the tykes took their own shoes off and took off running, making a lot of noise. Horatio and Natalia looking at each other and agreeing nonverbally it was going to be a long day as they were now stuck with two exuberant kids.

Thankfully the electrical sockets had been covered before Erin began to crawl. However, that was only one less worry.

Soon they heard sounds coming from the bedroom and the bathroom. Horatio and Natalia shook their heads and quickly went to the locations. When they got there, Natalia saw that Erin had called in the books she and her brother shared and promptly got to work to get the books placed back. On the other hand, Horatio had seen Nathan literally buried himself under what looked like two rolls of toilet paper.

As Horatio worked to get his son out of the mess, he wondered, what is it with toddlers and toilet paper?

No sooner was the mess cleaned up when the kids began giggling mischievously and took off running, causing both Natalia and Horatio to groan loudly. They took off and followed the little stinkers— that was how it played out for the rest of the time: Erin and Nathan then made a mess of all the toys they had received so far. Then they led mom and dad on a wild goose chase. The worst of it was when both got into the pots and pans, made a lot of noise, and gave Horatio and Natalia significant headaches.

Several hours later, both he and Natalia had finally gotten the little goofballs to bed. Now they too were getting ready for bed; the squirts had been mischief makers all day long even they were tuckered out. Horatio sat in bed after having freshened up. One thing went through his head, boy if this is a preview of how they would be when they are older, Natalia and I have our work cut out for us.

-x-

Once the kids were asleep, Natalia had joined Horatio. Once Horatio turned the lamp off, he wrapped his arms around her. Once their heads hit the bed, both were out like a light.

Kiss

It had been a long day at the lab, and all Horatio wanted to do was to hold his gorgeous and sexy girlfriend, Natalia. While he is grateful for the time he had with Marisol, he knows it was Marisol who had helped lead him to Natalia.

When he got home and opened the door, he saw that her back was to him. So he silently closed the door and then slipped out of his shoes before he quietly snuck up to her and then wrapped his arms around her waist and began to kiss her neck.

Natalia was stirring the sauce for dinner when she felt a pair of strong arms around her waist. She smiled and wrapped her hands, and his arms leaned into this hug.

After turning the heat down to a simmer, Natalia turned around and said, "Long day at the lab, handsome?"

Horatio leaned and gave Natalia a peck on the lips, then leaned his forehead against hers and said, "You have no idea, my love."

Natalia said, "How about we go upstairs and have a little bit of fun?"

There would be time for food later. It was time for Horatio to get what needed…love.

Lethargic [Natalia's POV]

Today sucked. The past few days, I have been so lethargic. All the foods that I love to eat made me queasy. The smell of caffeine also made me nauseous. So, for now, I only drink herbal and green tea. The worst of all, any little smell would set me off. And it did. When we checked out the photos of a crime, somehow, the blood on the images triggered my nausea, and I covered my mouth and took off for the restroom.

The next time thing I knew, I heard a gentle Southern voice call me, "Talia? Are you ok, sweetie?"

After I finished puking what little food I had in me, I felt a bit better but felt a little weak. I replied, "I am ok."

But when I tried to stand up and head to wash my hands, I faltered, and Calleigh caught me before I fell.

Calleigh said, "Whoa. Looks like you need to sit down."

Calleigh helped me out, and after I got my hands washed, she said straight out, "Talia, I noticed you have not been eating. Have you thought about the fact you may be pregnant?"

It only occurred to me that it may be the case. I have not been regular like I usually am. I am bloated, cranky, and have been having light spotting.

One positive pregnancy test and a confirmation from her ObGyn was the confirmation I needed. Horatio and I expect our second child and little Erin to be a big sister and have either a baby sister or baby brother.

Lonely and Universe

Natalia had always felt lonely when it came to her love life. She had plenty of guys who wanted to date her, and she had plenty of dates, but none worked out. Of course, her marriage to Nick was a complete failure. She felt like the universe was mocking her.

However, she didn't realize she wouldn't be lonely for much longer.

Treasure

As he watched Natalia feed their newborn daughter, Horatio couldn't help but be in awe.

One thing is for sure, Horatio would always treasure what he had with Natalia. Their loss of a spouse (or ex-spouse) brought them together. While his circumstance was drastically different from Natalia's, the grief was the same. He knows that he will protect her with everything he in power to do so.

A/N 2: Thanks for reading Love and Family. As always reviews are appreciated!

[alj4890]

Love/Angst Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in wanting to see more of the pregnancy.

(Thomas x Amanda) taken from the And Then I Met You storyline.

A/N Three part fic for the Hunt family of three soon to be family of five as requested. There is some angst with this pregnancy. Thomas and Kathleen try and cope with the unexpected events.

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Masterlist

Part 2 Part 3

The Unexpected

Part 1

London Film Premiere

"My wife is in her eighth month of pregnancy and told she shouldn't travel." Thomas explained to the group of reporters. "If not for my directing this, I would be with Amanda and Kathleen right now and most likely dry."

It was a cool, early May evening. Misting rain fell, tempting him to turn the collar of his jacket up.

"What are your plans for your next film?" One reporter called out.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the director's face. "I will be taking a break as we deal with having twins and a five year old. I think Amanda might banish me if I even hinted of a possible project."

Many around him laughed. A few more questions were asked of tonight's film and then he was set free. He stopped inside the theater and pulled his phone out when he felt it vibrate again. There were numerous missed calls from Liam and Amanda's phones.

Thomas called her first. He was surprised when Kathleen answered.

"What's wrong?" He asked when he heard her tearful cry of his name.

"Mommy's bleeding." She started crying harder. "A lot."

Thomas froze. "What? Where is she?"

Kathleen continued to cry until she started coughing. She was unable to get the words out. 

His frustration grew as he attempted to control the volume of his voice. "Kathleen, calm down and give Mommy's phone to someone who can talk." He tried to keep the panic out of his tone.

Riley took the phone while trying to comfort the little girl. "Hello?"

"What is going on?" Thomas demanded.

Riley's voice trembled with sadness and fear. "We were eating dinner and Amanda said she felt funny. She stood up to go to her room and collapsed." Riley audibly gulped. "There was blood on her pants and chair. Liam and Bastien have rushed her to the hospital while I stayed here with Kathleen and the boys."

Thomas ran out of the theater and hailed a taxi. "Has there been any word from Liam?"

"Not yet." Riley whispered. "Thomas, hurry."

__________________

Cordonia, a little over three hours later...

Thomas burst through the hospital doors and ran down the hallways, ignoring the nurses calling after him. He paused to read the sign pointing toward different wards and continued running.

Bastien was leaning against the wall outside the room and straightened when he saw him.

Thomas said his name and paused at the door. He didn't know what to expect. He took a deep breath and walked inside.

Liam stood up in relief when he saw him. The usually unflappable director paled while he walked around the bed where Amanda slept with multiple IV's and monitors on her. Her sleep was peaceful through all the swooshes and beeps.

"What happened?" Thomas whispered after touching her hand.

Liam lowered his voice. "She has placenta previa. The doctor said she was at a higher risk for it being pregnant with twins. He isn't sure how long she will be here or if he will be forced to take the babies early." He nodded toward the bags of A positive blood. "She lost a great deal of blood."

Thomas ran a hand down his face. "Is she in pain?

Liam shook his head. "No. She had some contractions that they managed to stop. She was still unconscious when they occurred."

"Did she ever regain consciousness at all?" He asked.

"For a moment, only to make certain the babies were well. Once she was reassured she fell into a deep sleep." Liam told him.

Thomas sat down and looked at her. He reached out to smooth her hair back and noticed how warm she was. Her cheeks were flushed a bright red. "She's running fever."

"The nurses are monitoring that. They said it can happen when receiving a transfusion." Liam explained.

"Thank you for acting quickly." Thomas said. "Riley told me how you and Bastien made certain to get her here fast."

Liam placed a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. "Of course. I will leave you alone with her and let Kathleen know she is being taken care of."

"Kathleen." Thomas rubbed his hands over his face. In his panic he had forgotten how she must be reacting to all this. "I should go see her." He stared down at his wife and couldn't seem to move away from her.

Liam could see the battle between husband and father and told him to remain here. "I promise to call if Kathleen is inconsolable. I'll let her know she can see Amanda as soon as she gets some rest."

"Thank you." Thomas said softly. He resumed his vigil by her bedside, thinking of the other time he had done so. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever. He had not thought it possible that he could love her more than he did all those years ago, yet he knew it was true.

His eyes briefly left her face to observe their babies' heartbeats. Then he focused on his wife's steady beat showing on the monitor. His gaze came back to her face. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead then one to her belly, softly smiling at the movement he felt. He prayed it continued.

He relaxed some after a nurse came in to check everything. The bleeding was still occcuring but had reduced some. She reassured him that all would be fine.

He leaned his head back against the chair cushion and slipped his hand under Amanda's. Her fingers barely moved as she continued to sleep.

He closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

_______________

The next morning...

Kathleen woke up and rubbed her eyes. She had quietly cried herself to sleep after Liam told her everything was fine. She wanted to believe him. She wanted her mother here where she could see she was really well. Learning that Thomas had arrived made her want to see both of them. She needed her parents to say everything was right.

She climbed out of the plush bed Riley had put her in so she would be close to the Royal family if she needed her or Liam. She opened her door and peeped out.

Bastien saw her and bowed. "Good morning, Lady Kathleen."

She looked up at him. "Good Morning."

He knelt down before her. "Is there anything you need?"

She nodded while fresh tears appeared. "Can I see my mommy?"

His sharp gray eyes softened at her heartbreak. "As soon as your father calls, we will take you to see her." He promised.

She swallowed her sob down. "Can I call my daddy?"

He was about to answer when Liam stepped out. He noticed her tears and picked her up when she repeated her request. "Let's eat some breakfast first." He opened his sons' bedroom door and told them to come join them.

"You know how much your mommy loves to sleep late." He tried to coax a smile from her. "We'll let her sleep a little longer before calling."

Kathleen rested her head against his shoulder while the tears still slipped down her cheeks

Ellis and Emerick looked up at her. They whispered to one another a plan to do all they could to make her laugh.

"Dad's cooking isn't that bad, Kat." Emerick teased.

Liam half smirked at his sons. "I make excellent waffles, thank you."

"Just don't let him make bacon." Ellis said to Kathleen. "Unless you want the firemen to bust through the windows. His laugh at his own joke made her smile some.

Liam set her on the kitchen counter while he and the boys started getting everything ready for waffles. The palace chef chuckled and left with a warning that he wanted his kitchen to still be intact when they finished.

Liam twirled a spatula around and over his shoulder, earning an applause from the three children. Riley walked in and laughed when he began to stress the importance waffles have in everyday life.

"What topping would you like, m'lady?" He asked of Kathleen while giving her the first waffle. "Strawberries? Chocolate chips? Whipped cream? Syrup? Whatever you would like."

Her eyes filled with tears again as she thought of making breakfast with her mother. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Syrup please."

Riley picked her up and cuddled her in her arms. As sweet as the queen was, Kathleen thought that no one could hold her like her mother.

_______________

At the hospital...

Amanda opened her eyes and looked up at the nurse changing her IV bags.

"Your grace!" She said softly. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's quite alright." She looked at Thomas asleep in the chair next to her and tried not to cry at having him where she needed him. "When did he get here?"

"It was a little after midnight." The nurse explained. "He caused quite a scene running through the maternity ward."

Amanda threaded her fingers through his. "Has Dr. Vasco been by yet?"

"He just arrived and is reviewing your chart. He should be in shortly." She gave a curtsy and left.

"How are you?"

She looked up at Thomas quietly studying her.

"Better now that you're here." She swiped at the tears building up. "Thomas."

He moved closer and pressed his lips to hers. She held him tight for an extra moment while tears fell. "I'm so scared."

He gently wiped her tears and kissed her forehead. "I am too." He gently nudged her face up and looked into her eyes. "I can't lose you."

She averted her gaze. "We can't lose the twins." She glanced at their monitor and gently rubbed her belly.

Thomas set his hand next to hers and could feel the kicks and movement. He looked at Amanda's profile and saw her lips firm in determination.

"Kathleen?" She looked up at him. "Have you seen her yet? She saw me collapse."

"Liam and Riley were taking care of her while I stayed here." He explained. "Once we talk to the doctor, I’ll leave and bring her to see you."

Amanda relaxed some. "Poor little thing." Tears spilled down her eyes again. "She must be so frightened."

"She wasn't the only one." Thomas met her eyes. "I haven't felt panic like that in a long time. Kathleen called me and was only able to get out that you were bleeding." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I turned a three hour flight into a two hour and fifteen minute one."

"I'm sorry." She settled his hand against her cheek. "I hate that I interrupted your premiere."

"I don't give a damm about that." He snapped. "You come before everything else." His dark eyes narrowed on her. "I dont care if that film is hailed the biggest flop in the history of cinema. All I want to know is how to fix this." His eyes darkened in intensity. "I can't lose you."

"I--" she was cut off by the doctor walking in.

He bowed to them both. "Lord and Lady Hunt. I hope you rested well." He flipped through her chart once more and then examined her. He made a few more notes, checked the readout on the baby's monitor and finally pulled up a chair to talk to them.

"His majesty informed you of what happened." He confirmed with Thomas.

"He did. But what does it mean? Is my wife going to..." He swallowed down the word and chose others. "Will she recover?"

"Yes, I feel confident that all will go well if you do as I suggest." He turned to Amanda after explaining how the fraternal twins each had their own placenta making her even more at risk for this to happen. "With the heavy bleeding you are having, I do not feel comfortable releasing you with bedrest at home. I want to keep you here where we can monitor the bleeding, the twins, and be able to, at a moment's notice, perform a cesarean."

Amanda blinked in surprise. "But not now, right? We need the babies to stay in there for as long as we can."

Thomas leaned closer and frowned. "How would that affect Amanda's health if we continue to wait?"

"Thomas!" Her voice cracked. "You know I can't choose me over them."

He ignored her and focused on the doctor. "Well?"

The doctor lowered his eyes and cleared his throat. "With us closely monitoring, I believe both Lady Amanda and the twins should suffer very little complications." He looked at the couple. "I have three patients here that I am looking out for, Lord Hunt. I don't intend to lose any of them."

"If you took them now," Thomas persisted, "wouldn't that be easier on her?"

Amanda shook her head no as her tears fell faster. "Thomas, please don't do this to me."

"I need you." He stated again. His tone was harsh as his fear built. "We have a five year old who needs her mother." He lowered his eyes. "I want nothing more than our twins to make it, but I need you to be here to help care for all our children."

"I can't lose another baby." She replied. "You know that if I lived and they died when I didn't even try to wait as long as I possibly could that I would never recover emotionally from that." She bit her lip, trying to make him understand. "My body might survive but you will have lost me."

Thomas covered his face with his hands and slowly lowered them, unwilling to hear her arguments.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Let's take it day by day. The longer we can give those two the better it will be," he focused the next to Thomas, "and I will make sure that her grace does not have to make the choice of her life for theirs."

He left with telling them he was going to administer steroids to help build the twins' lungs in case they had to perform the operation sooner than they would like.

Thomas got up and walked over to the window. It was amazing how life still went on while one's personal universe had come to a screeching halt. He looked out over the small courtyard. Flowers were blooming in bright colors as some patients were wheeled along the paths. He tried to focus on what promised to be a beautiful spring day rather than this uncertainty they were entering into.

Amanda observed him quietly. She knew why he was not wanting to hear her arguments. She didn't see it as giving up on him and Kathleen. She saw it as giving them something more to have and to love.

"Thomas?" She tried to keep her voice steady.

He lowered his head.

"Please don't leave me alone in this." She pleaded. "I need you to--"

"You need me?" He gave a bitter laugh. "I keep saying how I need you and you ignore it. Now that you need me, suddenly I'm the villain for not wanting to watch you hemorrhage to death."

He turned around and noticed her heartbreak. Unable to leave her in that mindset, he went to her bedside and knelt down beside it. He pressed a kiss into her palm while closing his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She gently ran her fingers through his hair. "I am too."

He looked up at her. "Promise me that you will mind the doctors."

Her lips softened into a hint of a teasing smile. "I don't really have a choice since I'm not being released."

"Amanda." He stood up. "Promise me you will tell them every strange sensation, feeling, twinge, even a wild thought that comes over you."

She nodded. "I promise."

He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was filled with the thought of losing her. She cradled his face, returning it with all the love she had for him. He pressed another kiss to her forehead before speaking again.

"I should go change and bring Kathleen by." He tenderly cupped her cheek. "Anything I can bring you while I pack my bags?"

"No." She softly kissed his hand. "I can't think of anything right now." Her brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe you shouldn't stay here."

His features hardened. "Why?"

"Because of Kathleen." She explained. "She needs at least one of us there--"

"I will pick her up everyday to be here with us and then tuck her in bed at night. Liam and Riley will watch over her while she sleeps." His stance became immovable. "I'm not leaving you here alone as you face this."

Amanda nodded while trying not to cry again. "What about St Orella? They were expecting us back tomorrow."

"I'll take care of that too." He kissed her softly once more. "Rest and try not to worry about anything other than you and those two troublemakers."

She laughed through her tears and pulled him down to kiss him again. "I'll try." Her eyes met his. "I do love you so much."

His adam's apple bobbed a couple times while he swallowed down his emotion. "I love you." He met her steady gaze. "So very much."

__________________

"Your father called." Liam told Kathleen in the playroom. "He is coming to pick you up and take you to see your mother."

Kathleen smiled and hugged him. He chuckled and suggested she color a picture for Amanda. "She's always bragging on what beautiful pictures you create."

"Can we do one too?" Ellis asked.

"I believe she would love that." Liam patted him on his head. "That’s very thoughtful of you."

The three rushed to a table and picked out what art supplies they wanted to use. Liam left them to it while he and Riley went to call their other friends and let them know what was happening.

____________________

Kathleen looked up from the third picture she was working and saw Thomas. He knelt down while she ran into his arms. She then dragged him over to the table to see their pictures. The little princes explained theirs too.

"These will make Amanda smile." He thanked the two princes and told Kathleen to get what she wanted to take to play with. "We’ll be spending a lot of time in Mommy's room at the hospital. She can't come home yet, so I will bring you here to sleep and come back to get you each morning."

Kathleen stared at him in surprise.

"Kat! You get to play with us everyday!" Emerick exclaimed.

Ellis jumped up and down, cheering for having indefinite company.

Thomas took her hand and told the boys he would see them this evening.

___________________

Kathleen became more nervous the closer they got to Amanda's room. Thomas had explained all the tubes and monitors her mother was hooked up to and to not be afraid. "All of it is to help her and the babies."

Her imagination was running wild with how her mother would look.

He knocked on the door and entered when Amanda called out.

She smiled at Kathleen and held her arms out. Thomas told her to be gentle as she hugged her. Kathleen began to cry seeing that her mother was really okay and buried her face in Amanda's side.

Thomas picked her up and set her beside Amanda on the hospital bed. She curled up and rested her head against her chest, listening to her heartbeat. Amanda began to silently cry while holding her close, knowing how frightened she must have been.

Thomas stood there watching them hold each other while unshed tears formed in his eyes. He mumbled about getting something from the vending machines and stepped out into the hallway. He covered his face while trying to calm down. Seeing them both like that brought up all the fears he had of raising Kathleen on his own. What if he had her and newborn twins without Amanda?

Kathleen would never get over losing her mother. He doubted his own ability to comfort her if he lost Amanda. The very thought practically brought him to his knees. His brow furrowed as he thought of the twins. Since they had seen how much they loved Kathleen, he had not hesistated in already giving his heart to these two they had yet to meet.

He couldn't lose any of them.

He slid down the wall.

"Thomas!"

He looked up at Maxwell and Nadia running up. Both had varying expressions of fear on their faces.

"Liam called, has something else happened?" Maxwell asked.

Nadia sat down in the floor beside Thomas as he shook his head, unable to speak. She wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened before hugging her back. He managed to get some of the words out about why he was out here.

Maxwell sat down on his other side and stared at the opposite wall. His blue eyes filled with unshed tears as he thought about being in Thomas's place. He knew exactly how he felt. He couldn't imagine losing Nadia and being left with taking care of their children. No one could take his wife's place.

Thomas got up after a few moments of shared silence. He asked if they wanted anything and they followed him to the machines, making a variety of choices. The three grapsed at anything to try and not think of what was ahead of them.

Amanda and Kathleen finished their cry while Thomas was gone. Her daughter remained against her side with her little arm draped over belly. She could feel her siblings move ever so often.

"They've missed your stories." Amanda said softly. She pressed another kiss to Kathleen's head and hugged her tight. "They only settle down at night when you talk to them."

Kathleen rubbed her eyes before placing her ear against Amanda's belly.

"Hello Elizabeth and Ian." She said in a hoarse voice.

Amanda could feel the tears building up once more as Kathleen told them all about playing with Emerick and Ellis. She told them about Liam making waffles and doing tricks with cooking utensils. She then closed her eyes tight before asking them to not hurt their mother.

Amanda pulled her back in her arms and held her. She shushed Kathleen's tears while promising that all would be as it should. With vision blurred by tears Amanda looked into her little face. "Whatever happens, always remember that you grew under my heart. I couldn't help but love you. I am so proud to be your mother."

Kathleen threw her arms around her neck and said she loved her. Her knee unhooked one of the monitors and an alarm sound went off. Both jumped in surprise.

Filled with terror, Thomas burst into the room followed by a wide eyed Maxwell and Nadia.

"Nothing's wrong!" Amanda promised. "I became unhooked from the heart monitor."

A nurse came in and reset everything. She smiled at Kathleen and nodded to Nadia and Maxwell on her way out.

"We come bearing treats." Maxwell said to break the tension. He dumped out a number of snack cakes and candies.

Nadia looked at everything Amanda had attatched to her. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired but good." Amanda said for Kathleen's sake.

"You should rest." Thomas finally managed to say.

"I will." She promised as Kathleen snuggled against her side. Thomas readjusted the blanket to cover them both up. He gently smoothed Kathleen's dark hair back before caressing Amanda's cheek.

Nadia leaned against Maxwell to keep from crying. Thomas looked like a man being tortured on the rack. Kathleen held onto Amanda as if afraid she would disappear if she let go. And Amanda...was putting on a brave show for all.

Maxwell cleared his throat. "Are you able to eat? We can go get whatever you want."

"I might break into those orange cupcakes." Amanda replied. She glanced down at Kathleen and saw her drifting off to sleep. She had worn herself out from all the crying.

Thomas motioned toward a couch. "Would you like me to make a bed for her over there?"

"No." She held her in her arms. "She can stay here." Amanda tried to swallow. "I remember what it was like, wishing I could be held by my mother."

Nadia wiped her tears. "We’ll run out and get you three some lunch while Kat sleeps."

"Thank you." Thomas said. "I don't know what--"he grimaced, "thank you."

Once the Beaumont's were gone, Thomas sat down beside the bed. He watched Kathleen sleep for a few moments before looking at Amanda's profile. She turned toward him.

"What are you thinking?" She whispered.

He shook his head and opened the package of cupcakes for her. She took one and waited for him to find the words.

"Nothing." He finally managed. "Nothing but my fears of losing you and the twins."

_________________

That evening, Thomas gathered Kathleen's untouched bag of toys. She never left Amanda's side. He slipped his blazer on and told the little girl to say goodnight.

Her bottom lip trembled. "I don't want to."

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. "It’s getting late."

"I don't want to!" She said louder. "I want to stay with Mommy."

"Young lady, do as I say." He snapped. "Now!"

Tears fell down her cheeks at his anger and with leaving. "No." She said softly. "I won't go."

He dropped the bag and went to pick her up. She started fighting against him.

Amanda opened her eyes when she heard their raised voices. "What's--"

"I want to stay here!" Kathleen struggled in his arms. "Please Daddy! Don't make me go!"

"Thomas!" Amanda called out. "Let me--"

"That’s enough!" He yelled. He lowered Kathleen to the floor and held tight to her. "Listen to me. I am taking you to get rest. I will be back in the morning to bring you here."

Her cries echoed in the room, hurting the couple. Thomas dropped his head. He couldn't do this. He knew this was a glimpse of what life would be like if it ended tragically.

"Come here sweetheart." Amanda said softly. She brushed the strands of hair sticking to Kathleen's damp cheeks. "The only way I can rest like the doctor needs me to is by knowing you are being well taken care of. I need to know you are tucked in bed with warm covers and a little stuffed corgi."

Kathleen sniffed. "But I want to be with you."

Amanda didn't bother to wipe her own tears. "This is only for a few more weeks that we have to do this." She kissed the little hands gripping hers. "Will you help me and Daddy with this?"

Kathleen reluctantly nodded. She looked up at Thomas and tearfully apologized. He knelt down and hugged her close, whispering his own apology.

Amanda watched them silently. She forced a smile when Kathleen hugged her good night. "I will see you in the morning." She promised, kissing her daughter's forehead. "Sweet dreams little love."

Thomas pressed a kiss to Amanda's lips and said he would be back soon. He picked Kathleen and her little bag up. He looked back at his wife on his way out.

Once the door was shut, Amanda succumbed to the broken sobs that had built in her chest.

[kpoptrashibnida]

Enough Pt. 4

A/N: So, I am not super thrilled about this chapter. I just wanted to put out the important event that’s coming up and I didn’t want to extend it too much because I didn’t want to drag it out and have it not make sense or not have the flow work. So I hope this is okay and understandable and not boring. Also, please let me know what you are thinking about the series so far. Thanks! Happy reading!

You were breathing hard as you sat in the doctor's office, your leg shaking relentlessly due to the nerves you were feeling. You begged the doctor to expedite the test results because it was important that you knew that same day if you were pregnant, caught a disease or both. Thankfully she agreed once she saw your insurance card and knew she could charge them hefty fees for the expedited test. You closed your eyes and leaned back against the chair, willing your nerves to calm down as you patiently (impatiently) waited for the doctor or even a nurse to finally come inside. You had been waiting for a good 30 minutes and you glanced at your watch, debating whether or not to text your boss to let him know your “lunch” meeting was running longer than expected.

“Hi, I’m back. Sorry for the delay, we were trying to get these results as soon as possible.” The doctor said as she walked in and sat on the stool in front of you.

You sat up on the chair, your heart hammering in your chest the second the doctor walked in. “That’s fine.” You said softly, not trusting your voice.

“Well, I have good news. You are not pregnant and you don’t have any STDs.” She said with a smile.

You could almost cry of how happy you are. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relaxing your shoulders as you finally felt like everything was going to be okay. “I’m glad. I was just concerned because I’ve never missed my period before.”

“Well there could be a few explanations for that. Have you been experiencing any stress? Or a change of contraceptive?” She asked

“Now that I think about it, I did get a different prescription of birth control. And I’m helping my best friend plan her wedding, so I've been stressed out with that and work.”

“Well the change of birth control most definitely had something to do with your period being late. Once your body gets used to the new dosage, you should be regular again.”

“Thank you so much doctor.” You said with a smile, getting up and grabbing your purse, getting ready to leave.

“Of course. Have a great day.”

You walked back to work with more pep in your step. You were so relieved that you could scream to the heavens! You took your phone out, pulling up your text conversation with Chanyeol.

Good news. I’m not pregnant and you didn’t give me a disease. Let’s not speak to each other again now :)

You put your phone away and smiled as you made your way to work, not expecting or hoping for a reply.

After work, you were going to go dress shopping with Mina and Eunji. You two were going to walk there together after work and Eunji was going to meet you there. Once you made it to the lobby of the company, you saw Mina waiting for you by the door.

“Sorry! Have you been waiting long? The intern had so many questions I lost track of time.” You apologized as you approached her.

“No worries, I literally just got here. But since when are you in charge of babysitting interns?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m not. But he came into my office as soon as I was going to leave.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to be rude to the intern.

“He probably has a crush on you.” Mina teased, making you laugh loudly

“As if, Jungkook is just a boy.” You dismiss, the idea being utterly ridiculous.

“Yeah a hot one! That boys shoulders are massive! I’d give him a run for his money if I wasn’t a loyal fiancée.” Mina swooned.

“Okay okay calm down there.” You laughed, he was cute but oh so young. You halted once you saw the sight before you.

“What’s wrong?” Mina questioned at your lack of movement.

“Oh gosh let me get some ddopokki before we get there! I am so hungry!.” You said as you made your way to the food cart, ordering the largest size of ddopokki they had. “Do you want one?” You asked Mina

“I’m fine… how are you so hungry? Did you not have a lunch meeting?” She questioned, making your way to the bridal shop.

You gulped down the large amount of food in your mouth, feeling brave enough to tell your best friend the whole story. “Well, I lied. I didn’t go to a meeting. I had a doctor's appointment.”

“Doctors appointment? Are you ill?” She asked concerned

“I went to get a pregnancy test and a STD test…” You glanced at her to gauge her reaction.

She stopped in her tracks, her brain having a hard time registering what you had just said. “Wait. What? STD? Pregnancy? What the hell is going on?” She demanded, her mind running a mile a minute.

You took a deep breath and dived right into everything that happened. From Chanyeol ghosting you, from you ghosting him, from hooking up again, him not wearing a condom, you finding out that he was hooking up with other girls after he had cum in you, the realization that your period was late and the possibility of pregnancy, how you told Chanyeol and he completely dismissed you and to today. The good news of no pregnancy and no STDs. Mina was in shock after hearing everything you said, not believing what an asshole Chanyeol turned out to be.

“My god, you’ve been through a lot! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Mina said as she stopped in front of the bridal boutique.

“Because I didn’t want to put any negativity out there right now with your wedding planning. I’m just glad it’s all over and done with.” You shrug, not seeing why it was a big deal.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, you know you can tell me anything any time.” She felt a little guilty at the fact that you felt like you had to keep things in just so she doesn’t have to get stressed out.

“I know babe, let’s just focus on finding you the perfect dress!” You squealed excitedly, opening the door and heading to the countless rows of gorgeous wedding gowns.

A few weeks went by and the day to Mina and Suho’s wedding kept getting closer. Everything was going smoothly and the only things left to lock in was the flowers and confirming with the bakery the items for the dessert bar.

Currently, you were at work trying to finish the deadline for your department, making the final touches to your current marketing proposal. You were the team captain at your department and you were the one in charge of reviewing that everything was correct and in order before submitting it to your boss.

“Hey boss, the big man wants to see you.” Jungkook popped his head in to your office, making you look up from your computer screen that you were focused on.

“Okay, thank you.” You said, getting up and smoothing out your skirt.

You made your way to Mr. Kim’s office.

“Did you ask for me?” You asked as you walked into his office after knocking on his door.

“Yes, please sit down.” He said, taking his glasses off and rubbing between his eyes.

“Is everything okay?” You questioned, a little confused. Mr. Kim never usually comes and asks you into his office. Most of his questions or orders are in email form.

“Come on, how many times have I told you to call me Namjoon? You’re my star player, no need to be so formal.” He kindly admonished, making you smile at his demeanor

“Right, sorry Namjoon.”

“No problem. Has my little brother been doing well?” He asked with a small smile.

“Jungkook? I didn’t know he was your brother!” You said surprised, wondering how you missed that detail.

“Well he’s my cousin but he’s like a little brother to me.” He said, a big grin appearing on his face making him look youthful and carefree.

“He’s doing really well, knows how to get the job done.” You replied honestly.

“Good, good. Well I guess you’re wondering why I asked you here. I actually want to talk to you about something serious.” He said, his playfulness almost fully gone.

You sat up straight in your seat, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you. “Is everything okay?” You asked as you racked your brain to see if maybe there were any missed mistakes in your last project.

“Yes everything is fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this sound so serious. But I do have a serious offer. Friends Corp is going to open a pop up shop in NewYork. We are going to sell merchandise of all kinds. Shirts, cups, plush toys, etc. I have a team in Manhattan already working on the real estate aspect of the shop, merchandise and other things. But I do need someone who is good with marketing. Not just good, but great. And that’s where you come in.” He pulled out a packet from his desk drawer, showing you the highlighted documents. “The store is expected to open next year, so the contract would be for a whole year. I’d want you to oversee the marketing aspect of this pop up shop for Friends Corp, work closely with the graphic design manager and the PR director. You’d be there until the opening of the store and then you can come back to Korea. We will be giving you a pay raise, accommodate an apartment for you and transportation. What do you think?” He asked, looking hopeful.

You were stunned speechless, not expecting this kind of job offer. You glanced at the pay and your heart skipped a beat. The number on the paper was extremely impressive. “I am honored that you have considered me for this position Mr. K- Namjoon, but would it be possible to let you know later? I just need to make sure I can commit to the move.”

“Of course! Of course! Let me know when you can. But the sooner the better, that way I can book your flight and secure an apartment.” He said with a smile.

“Okay. Thank you.”

You sat at your desk, not being able to focus on your task at hand. This job offer was a great opportunity and you really want to take it. You just need to talk to Mina because you have a hard time thinking about being away from her for a whole year. After work, you two were going to the bakery that is catering her wedding. Suho was meeting you two there so you can all choose the best desserts. She and Suho decided that the didn’t want a super traditional wedding with a cake, they went with a dessert bar route. Liking the idea of options for all tastes and preferences. You decided that telling her about the job offer would be best to do so now, so you could get back to Namjoon with your answer as soon as possible.

“Ready to go?” Mina asked as you were shutting off your computer for the day.

“Yep, all set.” You smiled as you made your way over to her.

You were walking over to the bakery and Mina was happily going on about how excited she was to try out the different desserts and stuff her face. You smiled and nodded your head, a little distracted to be able to cooperate with the conversation.

“You okay? You’re awfully quiet.” Mina asked, observing your unusually quiet demeanor.

“I have something to tell you and I don’t know how to say it.” You said honestly, with Mina, it’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Oh my god, what is it? You’re scaring me.” She honestly did look scared and you felt bad for wording it the way you did.

“Okay, so today, Mr. Kim asked me into his office and offered me a job to work in the pop up shop in New York and he wants me to give him an answer soon and I don’t know what to do.” You managed to say it all in one breath, quickly glancing over at Mina.

She looked shocked for about a second before she grinned excitedly, shaking you in a tight hug, making you laugh.

“What did you say?” She inquired

“I told him I would get back at him to let him know.”

“Why though? It’s an amazing opportunity!”

“I know. But I wanted to make sure you’d be cool with it. It’s a whole year.” You said, just the thought of being away from your friend made you sad.

“Oh my gosh, don’t be dumb. I love you and I’ll miss you like hell, but I’d never expect you to miss out on an opportunity like this! As long as you leave after my wedding.” She said pointedly, making you laugh and feeling relieved.

“I would never dare leave before your big day.” You say, opening the door to the bakery where Suho and his best man, a guy named Kyungsoo who was apparently an expert on all things culinary, were waiting for you two already.

You were able to enjoy all the delicious desserts now that Mina knew of your relocation to New York. She shared the news with Suho and Kyungsoo as soon as you two walked in. Suho was very happy for you and decided that you all were celebrating your job promotion with lots of dessert and complimentary champagne.

The next day you walked in to Namjoon’s office, confident about your decision. Knocking you walk in, making him look up from his computer.

“What a surprise! Are you here to give me an answer?” He asked, taking his glasses off and reclined in his chair.

“Yes, I’ll take the offer. But I can only leave after my friends wedding.” You informed, excited about the move to New York.

“Absolutely. Just tell me the date and I’ll get everything ready.” He said, typing away at his laptop.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You said and went back to work.

“Oh yes.” You moaned, feeling hot lips touch your sensitive nipples, pleasure spreading through your body.

“You like that princess?” The husky voice said, thrusting his hips into you, making his thick length stretch you out deliciously.

You whimpered,nodding your head, the pleasure so consuming you were not able to speak.

“Use your words baby.” The husky voice whispered in your ear.

“Yes, it feels so good.” You panted, thrusting your hips against his in order to speed the process of your orgasm.

“Come for me baby, I know you’re almost there.” He said, rubbing his fingers against your sensitive clit, making your walls spasm against his cock.

You moaned as your release hit you, making you see stars.

His hips started moving faster, chasing his own release. He came soon after you, moaning lowly in your ear.

“That’s it baby, this is why you’re my favorite.”

You sat up in your bed with a start, heart hammering in your chest and a light sheen of sweat covering your body. It was a dream. A wet dream with Chanyeol. How fun-fucking-tastic. You touched your center and felt the wetness coating your panties. You threw them off into your hamper and laid back down in bed frustrated. You cannot believe you just had that kind of dream with Chanyeol. This promotion could not have come at a better moment. You need to get away from this country so you could completely erase him from your mind and memory. You were going to pretend as if he never existed. And you couldn’t wait to be thousands of miles away from him.

***

Chanyeol had stepped away from the computer to get something quick to eat. It seemed like ramen was the only thing he had to eat lately. He really needed to stop being so lazy and go get some actual food from the grocery store. He was in the middle of producing a song for an upcoming artist and he was excited at the progress of the song. This one was going to be a real banger for sure.

He made his way back to his desk with his bowl of ramen in hand, ready to put the finishing touches on the song. He saw the screen of his phone illuminating when he walked in, making his eyebrow furrow. Usually people don’t message him when he’s in the middle of producing.

He felt his heart skip a beat when he read your name on his screen, making him click on the notification at a fast pace.

Good news. I’m not pregnant and you didn’t give me a disease. Let’s not speak to each other again now :)

He read your message a few times, letting the news sink in. He was relieved you weren’t pregnant, although he couldn’t quite understand the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew you weren’t going to have an STD. Sure he had slept with someone else, but he always wore protection with them. He knew you were angry with him, but it made him feel like crap that you didn’t want to speak to him again. He decided to not answer and give you some time to cool off. He was sure you’d get over it with some time. He went back to work after that, distracting himself from the feelings he was experiencing.

“Daddy, mom won’t let me eat cake!” A cute boy with chubby cheeks and elvish ears came and angrily sat on Chanyeol’s lap.

“I know sweetie. But mom wants to make sure you have space in your tummy for dinner first. Then you can have cake.” Chanyeol said to the small child. Making a big grin spread along his adorable face.

“Promise?” He asked with his cute big puppy dog eyes.

“Of course!” He said confidently.

“Dinner is ready!” You exclaimed, bringing the home made pizza to the table where Chanyeol and the boy were waiting patiently.

“Yay my favorite!” The little boy exclaimed, making both you and Chanyeol laugh.

“I know baby. This is why I didn’t let you eat cake first.” You said, caressing the top of his head in a loving manner.

“And I know it’s your favorite too.” You said as you wrapped your arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders, giving him a sweet peck on the lips.

“Ewww not in front of my pizza.” Your son said in disgust, making you both laugh as you all ate, enjoying this sweet moment as a family.

Chanyeol sat up with a start, feeling disoriented. He looked around and saw he was still in his studio. He must have dozed off when he was finishing the song he was working on. He shook his head and took a long sip of water, trying to shake away the memory of the dream he had. What was more disturbing is the feeling that was lingering in his stomach. What the hell did that dream mean? Why the fuck did he have that kind of dream? And with you? He saved the progress on the song in his computer and whipped his phone out, scrolling through his contacts. Once he found the name he was looking for, he sent out a message.

Hey hot stuff, can I come over?

He got up and grabbed a condom from his drawer. He didn’t bother to wait for a reply, knowing what this girls answer was going to be.

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[naruto--imagines]

Naruto x Reader [Baby]

[A/N] I do not own any of the characters present in this story, nor do I own the GIF that is featured. I do hold ownership over the story itself, please do not re-post it anywhere. Thanks! <3

WARNINGS: female reader, angst

Reflecting back, it’s not the life you wanted at twenty years old. But you wouldn’t change anything either.

You and Naruto had started dating your senior year of high school, and that relationship was easily continued through your first years of college when you found out you were attending the same school. Your relationship went on smoothly. Until you hit a crossroad.

“I was offered a position on the national soccer team,” Naruto confessed to you one night while you were eating dinner at your place. This didn’t surprise you, he was a sensational soccer player. In fact, one of the reasons for attending the school you did was their amazing soccer program.

“What’d you say?” You questioned picking at your plate some more.

“That I needed time to think about it. They only gave me a day.” Naruto explained.

“I guess this is a good time to tell you, I was offered an apprenticeship at a studio. They liked my portfolio and want me to work with a design team to produce patterns for designers and work on art for magazines.” You explained to your boyfriend of three years. “Unfortunately that’s gonna take up the rest of my free time.” With this apprenticeship you would have more money in your pocket, Your current job and scholarships were enough to pay for school and average living expenses, but this was a chance to break into the graphic design business and gain some recognition. You were majoring in English currently, too scared of the possibilities of not having a job after graduation. Even though designing was something you enjoyed and were lucky to have the opportunity to continue doing it.

“So what now?” Naruto asked setting his fork down and looking at you.

“Maybe.” You started hesitantly, not really wanting to finish the thought. “Maybe we should… break up?” You ended with an upward tilt to your voice, clearly showing your hesitation. After saying that you stared at your plate. Not wanting to see his reaction.

“Yeah. I- I think that may be for the best.” Naruto responded with reservation.

So the two of you made the hardest decision possible. After discussing it for a few hours you both realized that neither of you would have time to invest in a relationship, which wasn’t fair to either of you. But you both wanted to stay friends. It was still a commitment to each other, but not one that would be drastically strained due to distance.

With that conclusion reached, the two of you went to bed and spent one last night together as a couple. Desperately, you clutched to each other through your passion filled night. The both of you aware that when the morning came, it would be over and you would each walk separate paths.

And separately you walked. Naruto left the city to join his new team and start his training, and you started your new job. For the first three weeks, you talked regularly. Neither of you had it in your schedules to talk during the day, but at night as you were winding down you would message one another for an hour. Periodically sprinkled in between were some brief phone calls about things that were hard to convey over text or simply from being too excited to text. Then around the fourth week, the messages were less and less. One night as you were scrolling through Instagram you came across pictures he posted from a night out. Surrounded by booze and immaculately beautiful models. Even though the two of you were broken up … that stung. The next day you tried to send him a picture of a new pattern you had been working on. He always enjoyed seeing your art and you had been sending him all of your designs and always received positive feedback. Until now.

Naruto had never left you on ‘read’, this may have stung more than seeing the models. You two had been so close, even if you were no longer dating you thought you would at least be friends. The entire week went on like that. You tried to reach out at least once every day. A few texts, some of your designs, and even a picture of your dinner from his favorite ramen shop. Nothing worked.

After a week of trying, you gave up. The stress over the situation was literally making you sick. To the point where you weren’t keeping down anything after eating. Then you were getting sick in the morning too. A stomach bug you said when you called into work and your internship.

“I don’t know. It’s almost been a week, I think you should go to the hospital.” Sakura said. The two of you had gone out the night before and now you were laying out on your couch clutching your trashcan.

“Well, this might just be the flu or something.” You said pushing your hair back. Sakura sat down next to you and placed her hand on your forehead.

“No. That’s it, I’m taking you to the hospital.” She said standing you up and moving you along with her.

The two of you walked down the street to the train, you leaning against her the entire time and her supporting you in return. Sitting there you felt miserable. Each bump and jostle left your stomach lurching again. The 15-minute ride felt like it went on for 15 hours until you arrived at your stop and stumbled off the train. Glad to be on solid ground again, the two of you walked to the hospital.

“Sakura! I thought you were off today?” One of the nurses asked.

“Yeah, but I had to force my friend to come into the hospital. She’s not feeling too great right now.” Sakura explained to her after she placed you in a chair.

That’s where you sat filling out paperwork until it was time to see the doctor. You waited an hour before you were called back. With your symptoms, they decided to do a blood test to figure it out. And the results weren’t what you expected.

“Congratulations miss. You are pregnant.” The doctor said after looking at the paperwork in hand.

“Wh - What!?” You questioned.

“Yup, the sickness and the fatigue is not from the flu but because you are with a child my dear.”

You heard the words but didn’t process them. In fact, you were currently clutching to Sakura. Knowing she would be able to reiterate the information the doctor was currently rattling off now to you later.

“Hey.” Sakura nearly shouted your name to gain your attention. “Are you okay?” She asked with a concerned look on her face. It was at this point you realized you were no longer in the hospital.

“Uhm, yeah, I think so.” You said looking at the pamphlets you had acquired at some point.  “Or at least I will be.” This changed everything. Literally everything. “I just need some time to think.”

“Hmm, let’s get you home then,” Sakura said wrapping her arm around your shoulder and walking down the street with you.

When you got back to your place Sakura made you soup for lunch. Then the two of you sat on the couch. Honestly, you were glad to have her as your best friend, you weren’t sure how this would have gone without her.

But it’s been a few months since then, and now you were nearing the end of your second trimester. You had to give up quite a bit. You switched to taking online classes and quit your internship after you had enough money to pay for all that you needed in your nursery. You changed jobs from the high-end cafe you were working into an editing job. Granted you were low man on the totem pole so all you really did was review and edit and edit and review. But it was a job you could do from home, and being a single mother that was perfect for you.

“Does he know about the baby?” Sakura asked. She had tagged along with you to your ultrasound today. And now you were getting ice cream.

“Nope.” You said licking at your cone.

“Sweetie why not? He should know.” Sakura said eating her own frozen dessert.

“No, he went off and is living his life, and honestly” you stopped and sat in thought for a moment. “We broke up to follow our dreams. My dreams changed.” You explained rubbing your stomach. “I don’t want to force him to change his.”

“But you should give him a chance to decide.” Sakura chided.

“He hasn’t returned any of my messages in months. I’m done trying to get him to listen.” You stated.

“Okay. Okay. I didn’t mean to stress you out.” She back peddled.

“I know. I’m sorry too.”  You sighed resting your head on her shoulder. “I’m stressed, I didn’t mean to snap at you. Thank you for coming with me today, and every other time.”

“Haha, no problem. I’m glad to go with you. And I am so excited to see my god-son every chance I get!” She exclaimed leaning in close to you and placing her hands on your stomach and leaning in to nuzzle it as well. “Now, let’s get your mama home.” She said standing up and helping you up to walk home.

Sakura had been your largest support pillar. From day one she had been by your side. Every doctor’s appointment, the mornings you spent curled on the floor, and even your first ultrasound (which you cried at). She was even there when you went into labor. And through the twenty-two-hour process.

“OH! No, no no no. Sakura, Ah-I I can’t!” You said struggling through the next contraction.

“Yes, yes you can. You can do it, you HAVE to do it. Your son needs you right now.” She said wiping the sweat and tears from your face.

And you did, you brought your son Asahi into the world. Your beautiful son with your eyes and nose and bright blonde hair. And you loved him.

So that’s where you found yourself a year later.

You were now 20-years old, Asahi had recently turned one, marking almost two years without talking to Naruto. And you were fine. You had your son and that was your sole focus. You had a year and a half left until you graduated and your classes were going really well. Not only that, but you moved up in your job. Being a top editor meant you made more money with more leadership opportunities and could work on larger projects.

Presently, you had finally laid your one-year-old down for bed and now it was time to clean. You started on laundry, no one told you how dirty the clothes of a one-year-old could get. Asahi had three wardrobe changes today, and now that he was walking he managed to find messes all over the place. Once the washing machine was running you went into the living room and began to pick up Asahi's toys that were strewn across the floor. When those were put away you shook out the rug in the middle of the room before grabbing your broom to sweep up all the dirt and cracker crumbs. By the time the living room was cleaned up, it was time to rotate laundry. You placed the clean clothes into the dryer then started on the dishes. When those were washed and put away it was 9:00pm (2 hours after you put Asahi down), and now time for you to get to work.

You pulled out your laptop and began to diligently comb through the newest manuscript you had been sent. You did this for about an hour before you got up to stretch and get a cup of tea. Then it was back to work.

Soon the clock rolled around to 11:00pm and you had managed to breeze through 8 chapters before a loud pounding came to your door. Your apartment was in a decent part of town, although that didn't mean you were eager to open the door this late at night. The pounding came again and you decided to check it before the person woke your son up. Looking through the peep-hole you saw bright blond hair. Then the blond hair moved back and revealed familiar features. You threw open your door and stared in disbelief.

"Naruto?" You sternly questioned the man in front of you.

"HEY!” He yelled stumbling towards you. “You still live here! And you are looking good! Oh, It’s been so long.” He said leaning against your door frame.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him attempting to keep him upright.

“Hehe, I’m drunk and I forgot where my hotel was. And I need a place to stay, so I came here! Do you have any ramen?” He slurred stumbling around you, into your apartment and straight to your kitchen.

“Ah, Naruto I don’t think-” You started, closing and locking your door behind you.

“Hey! I found it!” He yelled.

“Okay, okay, I will make it for you. Just please, go sit on the couch and be quiet.” You said placing your hand on his arm and guiding towards the living room.

“Mmm. Okay,” Naruto said placing a kiss to your cheek and stumbling off to the couch. You fixed up a bowl of instant ramen for him, you still remembered how he liked it, and brought it out to him. The blond quickly sucked it down and handed the bowl back to you. “Thank you. It was really tasty.” He softly murmured leaning against you.

Soon enough he fell asleep pressed against you. You cautiously slipped out from under him and positioned one of the throw pillows in your place. Staring at your ex you shook your head and sighed before turning off the lights and going to your own bed.

“Mama!” That is what woke you up. At 6 o’clock in the morning. Even on Saturdays, you couldn’t get a break. Giving a groan you rolled out of your bed and walked down the hall to your son’s room.

“Morning my love.” You said picking up Asahi and pressing a kiss to his face, smiling when he returned the action effectively smearing slobber all over your cheek. You were still working on “nice kisses”, but he was improving. After that, you placed him on his changing table and got him into a fresh diaper. “There, all better. Are you ready for some breakfast?” You asked the toddler.

“Mm-Mm-Mm!” He excitedly responded while bouncing in your arms. “Bah- Bah!!” Asahi loudly demanded as soon as you walked into the kitchen.

“Okay, mama will get your bottle in a moment.” You told him placing him in his high-chair. You got started on his breakfast of toddler porridge and blueberries, along with making his bottle. “Alright big boy, time to eat!” You said as you placed his breakfast on his tray then pulled off his PJ shirt leaving him in his diaper. Breakfast was his messiest meal of the day and you learned it was easier to put him in the bath after he ate than washing his clothes every day.

“‘Ank ‘ou mama,” Asahi said diving into his bowl of food.

“Mmm, you’re welcome baby.” You said pressing a kiss to his head before going back to the kitchen to make your own breakfast and coffee. You were leaning against the counter sipping on your coffee and eating your toast with eggs when another noise caught your attention.

“Ooft, that was some night! Huh? How’d I get here?” You hear Naruto question before you also hear the springs of the couch creak.

“Morning,” You said as Naruto peeked into the kitchen

“Uh, hey.” He awkwardly responded, scratching the back of his head.

“Sleep well?” You questioned.

“Y-yeah, thanks for letting me crash here.” He said keeping his distance.

“No problem, not like I was gonna make you sleep outside on the ground.” You responded with a small smile and handed him a cup of coffee and a plate of toast and eggs. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover but no worse for wear,” Naruto replied taking the mug from you before falling into a silence. Though it didn’t last long.

“Mama!” Asahi screamed from the other room indicating he was done with his food. You placed your cup down and walked over to your dining area. Grabbing a wet wipe you quickly wiped his face and hands before picking him up and carrying him back to the kitchen. You leaned back up against the counter with your son now in your arms and fell back into silence.

“You, uh, you have a kid?” Naruto questioned in disbelief his food and drink now forgotten.

“Yeah, about that, we need to talk.” You said hesitantly. At that moment Asahi turned around and yelled.

“Dada!” before attempting to lunge from your arms. Asahi knew who his father was, you had shown him pictures and talked about Naruto with him (Leaving out the negatives). Lucky enough, you wrangled him in before he fell.

“S-surprise.” You stuttered out, hugging your son closer to you.

“He. He’s mine?” Naruto questioned in disbelief.

“Yeah,” You quietly replied. “Uh, Naruto. Meet Asahi Uzumaki.” You said almost using your son as a shield.

For the first time since you had known him, Naruto was stock still and deathly quiet. His arms were crossed and you could tell the gears were turning in his head.

“Why. Didn’t you. Tell me?” He practically growled. It was a tone you hadn’t heard before.

“I. I tried -”

“You tried! How!?” He yelled startling you and Asahi.

“I sent you a message! You didn’t respond!” You yelled back.

“A text! That was it! You said ‘I need to tell you something’ then didn’t say anything.”

“You! Didn’t! Respond! What was I supposed to think?” It was at this point that Asahi was getting fussy with all of the yelling and there was a knock at the door. “Ugh!” You exclaimed storming over to the door and throwing it open.

“Hey! There’s my handsome man!” Sakura exclaimed as she swooped in and plucked her godson from your arms and placing kisses all his exposed belly. “Why are you still in your pajamas? I thought we were going to the park today?” She asked looking at you and noticing the frown on your face. Then seeing the twenty-one-year-old  behind you. “Oh, Naruto, what are you doing here?” She tenderly questioned unaware of the situation.

“Sakura knew too?” Naruto questioned from behind you. You took a deep breath pressing your fingers to mouth before speaking again.

“Asahi, do you wanna go to the park with aunty Sakura?” You cooed to the little man.

“Yeah!” He cried wiggling to get down. Sakura placed him on the ground and held his hand assisting him to walk back towards his room. You watched the two of them leave before turning to your ex.

“I’m gonna go get him ready, then we can talk.” You said before turning and following after Sakura and Asahi. You quickly got him dressed and packed the diaper bag up before leading Asahi and Sakura outside. Sakura placed her hand on your shoulder giving a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll talk to you later.” She said before grabbing the diaper bag and picking up Asahi. You gently closed the door before facing Naruto. You gesture to the couch and follow him to the furniture. The two of you sat there as the minutes passed. Not saying anything.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Naruto finally asked hunched over with his face in his hands.

“I tried to. But you hadn’t responded to any of my messages in so long. So I sent one last message.” You tried to explain.

“I was trying to get over you,” Naruto said turning his attention to you. “We broke up. We both decided on going our separate ways, and it didn’t feel like it if we kept messaging.” With him looking at you, you could see the tears in his eyes.

“I was so tired of trying, and trying, and trying, and not going anywhere. So I quit. And I know. Goodness I know I should have told you. But you were off living your life. And you finally reached your dreams, and how could I ruin that?” You asked tears streaming down your face now too.

“I would have dropped out, I didn’t have to go off a play.” Naruto pleaded with you.

“That is my point.” You responded taking a hold of his hands. “You worked so hard to get there, and I couldn’t take that from you.”

“But it was my choice to make.” He said back grabbing your hands in his and holding tight “You should have let me make it.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about it.” You said falling into another silence.

That’s how you two sat for twenty minutes. Just looking at each other.

“I want to be involved in his life,” Naruto said. “My season is almost over. Then we have a three-month break. And I will be in town for the next two weeks.” He explained.

“I’d like for you to be involved. And for you to officially meet your son.” You said with a smile.

“And I want to get back to where we used to be. I’ve missed you.” Naruto confessed leaning in.

“I’ve missed you too.” You replied with a smile. It was then that Naruto wrapped you up in a bone crushing hug. Things were looking better. Sakura came back with Asahi and you promised to talk to her later. After that, you officially introduced Naruto to his son. And he was a natural! Playing with Asahi brought the brightest smile to your face. Naruto happily sat on the floor and played with Asahi while you got dressed. It was only when you came out from your room when you were greeted with Naruto holding Asahi out in front of him.

“What?” You questioned.

“He- uh- he stinks,” Naruto said while pulling a face, causing you to laugh.

“Your first dirty diaper! C’mon ‘papa’ I’ll show you.” You said dragging him into Asahi’s room. “Welcome to fatherhood, better get used to it.” You said once the poopy diaper had been changed.

That was the start of your family forming again. With more discussing and negotiating, you were able to convince Naruto to keep playing. With Asahi being a year old it would be easy to travel with him to visit Naruto while he was out of town. Not only that, it was easy with your job.

After a few months of dating again, you asked Naruto to move in. He said yes, he was either traveling for soccer or over at your place anyways, so it didn’t make sense to either of you to keep paying rent on a place he was never at. Then, shortly after Asahi’s second birthday, Naruto proposed. You said yes, obviously, and your family was complete.

Now you were twenty-two years old, You finally graduated and got a promotion at work along with your degree. You had a rambunctious two-year-old and a loving husband. It wasn’t the ideal start, but it was the perfect finish.

[debbie-tanthorey]

65 DAYS IN MAY

CHAPTER ONE

Cosmic irony.  A dentist saved me. You read that correctly – saved my LIFE, albeit inadvertently.  An action as mundane as having one’s teeth cleaned, set fate in motion. Was the week of Thanksgiving 2019, bi-annual check-up.  Dentist does his thing after the hygienist finishes. You know the drill (pun intended).  Only this time he uncustomarily offers me a hand-mirror, tells me to look in my throat, asks me if I've had my tonsils out.

“No”

“You have a white spot back there, see that?” My eyes shift toward the mirror – I LIE – say I see it (don’t have my glasses on, PRIDE won’t let me admit I can’t see any white patch)  He continues, “If you don't mind, am referring you to an oral surgeon for a biopsy.”  The nefarious B-word; brain fires a warning shot.  B-word leads to the C-word. 

Alone now in my car, I fall apart.  Hi, I'm a hypochondriac; I don't handle health challenges well despite the jovial persona folks see.  A paralyzed-with-fear hypochondriac.  Foremost in my thoughts is a long-time friend from high school, currently dealing with a devastating throat cancer diagnosis; I know not to minimize this.  (R.I.P. Grady, August 8, 2020 😔)  Get to my desk, dial my primary physician immediately, which is a big deal for introverted-me; set up an appointment for a second opinion.  The Thanksgiving holiday means I can't be seen until the following week.  What is normally a fun, family-gathering time of year, is effectively fogged in with dread, I go through the motions.  All-consuming thoughts ruminate incessantly - I'm dying.  Yeah, it's what hypochondriacs DO, we ‘dive off into the deep end,’ thrash, drown in ‘what if’s??’

The next week, my doctor smiles after he peers past my tongue into my throat, “Where?” Looks twice, insists I relax, “It's nothing.” He knows me well, adding, “if it would make you feel better, let's follow-up in three months.”  His reassurance tempers my panic . .  life resumes. 

CHAPTER TWO

December 2019, January, February, 2020 the winter that wasn't.  Work that was. Mid-February Housing fair at Ohio University's Walter Hall Rotunda.  Event coordinator, Donna, introduces herself to Dave and me at our display table. Lively-soul, (I admire extroverts) she explains she recently transferred to this area from Columbus and, among other things, is a Stage 4 breast cancer survivor.  Woman is spunky. Piques my interest. I share my sister's email address with her, explaining Cheryl is an 18-month soldier waging the same battle.  

March approaches and the little nagging voice in my head reminds, “3-month follow-up, Deb, just do it.”  Did.  Friday, March 6.  Confirmed, no dumb spot. Ha!! Your basic normal appointment. Crisis debunked. As visit concludes, Hillary, his nurse, scrolls through my medical record, turns to mention it's been more than a couple years since my last mammogram, they’ve all been clear, but I'm due, and would I want to set up one. 

“Sure” 

My youngest, Leah, works in this same medical facility, stop at her desk near the lab to say ‘hello.’  She’s my last to leave home, miss her in my house still. Always good to see and talk to her.  She and Ian were married 18 months ago.  Her desk-mate, Jordan, coincidentally one of Leah’s friends from her high school days, sets up my mammo appointment for Monday.

MONDAY, MARCH 9.  Say ‘hello’ again to the girls at their desk.  Check-in. Take a seat, wait my turn.  Have had plenty of these 'grams in my lifetime, no big deal, no dread.  Bare 'em, squash 'em, and get back to work.  This time though, the tech knows my sister, and as I dress when we are done, from behind the screen she casually asks how old Cheryl was when she got her diagnosis and how’s she doing. (60. She is doing remarkably well, maintaining) 10 minutes later, I’m back at my work desk, phone rings, the mammo-tech is on the phone, needing me to return the next day for “a couple more, 'maybe clearer' pics, and an ultrasound.” That’s never happened before.  A fleeting shot of panic surges, but since my most recent dread has been unfounded, I attempt to not over-react.

TUESDAY, MARCH 10.  Keenly study the radiology-tech’s face for clues when she comes to fetch me from the lobby, I examine her demeanor as if I’m a police detective on a high-profile murder case and she’s my prime suspect.  She's calm.  So I'm cool. Rescan first, ultrasound second.  Not especially pleasant the latter, (idiotic thing to say, was wholly unpleasant ) having your chest unceremoniously smashed in a circular motion against your ribs.  The techs are studious, the room silent, I stare at the ceiling. Last time I had an ultrasound was 26 years ago and I was pregnant. Today, no fun at all. Understand now why my sister mentioned she is not a fan of these during her breast cancer struggles.

CHAPTER THREE

SATURDAY, MARCH 14, a knock on the front door, mailman is standing on my front porch and in the time it takes me to scribble my name on a card, I'm staring down at a certified letter in my palm, the return address of the clinic lunging off the paper at me. There's a low, barely-audible, foreign sound in my head.  It's 'control', in human form, and is protesting/whining as she’s being forcibly dragged away from me.  Remind myself I'm somewhat sane, an adult - just open the envelope.  I do.  And there it is, in black and white, the word -

ABNORMALITY

The rest of the weekend is a blur, debunking the need for concern with my daughters.  Every excuse, every plausible explanation of why a letter like this would be mailed.  A mistake, surely so.  Just a glitch in the system.  “Mom, if it was bad, they wouldn't notify you by letter,” Leah insists.

MONDAY, MARCH 16, my primary physician calls in regard to my somewhat-panicky email fired-off to him on Saturday, the day the letter arrives. He speaks in calm tones, explains he was on vacation the past week, is sorry he could not talk to me before the notice arrived, he's seen the offending spot on the film, offers it's so small, unlikely any cause for concern. “Indistinctive,” he assures. Forwarding to a surgeon for review.

CHAPTER FOUR

TUESDAY, MARCH 17, mama-daughter call . . normal stuff .. she’s working today at the clinic. She mentions the aforementioned surgeon has office hours today, maybe I could be squeezed in.  I’m in luck, they can.  So in a couple hours, I am shaking the hand of the head of surgery.  Personable guy, he tells me he's reviewed my pics, if the radiologist had not circled the area, he would not have noticed it right away.  Optimism duly noted. He thoroughly examines that body part, pokes and prods, asks me if I feel a lump. “I have not.” Today he doesn't either.  Every woman knows about lumps. I absolutely know about lumps. I would never ignore one.  Fact of the matter, there is NO lump! 

We go over my less than stellar immediate family history of C. (HATE that word). Lung, breast, leukemia.  He recommends biopsy to rule out any true problem. The B-word again.  This day I say, ‘ok'. 

Right here is where COVID-19 makes it's bizarro presence known, personally impacts ME. Doctor advises local surgery center is now closed due to the virus and procedures are limited to emergencies only but he is willing to go before the Board to plead my case.  ????  While thankful he is willing to intercede for me; I am tamping down anxiety fighting to rise up, mentally jumping up and down, stomping on it, both feet.

Couple days later I get the call the Medical Board approves me for a needle biopsy.  Control-of-my-life, she is sitting on the floor in a fetal position, rocking, whimpering in a locked padded-room somewhere.

CHAPTER FIVE

TUESDAY, MARCH 24, Jess drives me to Jackson.  I don't need driven. Appreciate my oldest’s company though.  COVID rules necessitate only a patient be permitted to enter any facility; Jess has to wait in the car.  At the door, am screened for symptoms, this is the Twilight Zone.  And it's too quiet in here.  The place is dark and weird and I don't want to be here.  I'm the ONLY person in the entire surgery center, I overhear the staff talking, they weren’t on the schedule today, I’m the only patient. hhmmmm, why am I so important??  Creepy.

Am ushered into the procedure room, nurses are professional, put me at ease.   Entering, it’s impossible to miss my film aglow on the lighted-box on the wall; she asks if I want to see it.  (NO!! I don’t want to see it!!)  In reality, robotically, walk over to look.  There it is, plain as day.  The previously described small-likely-nothing indistinctive spot.  Yikes, it's a glaring, ominous, bright white glob with literal tentacles reaching out, it’s in the middle of my precious flesh.  No denying this now. Thing’s staring back at me.  The only way I know how to describe the rest of the appointment, is that I am having an out-of-body experience, it’s not happening to me.  No . . . is not.

You know the lifts in a garage of an auto repair shop?  That's what this is. Clumsily climb aboard, assume a  face-down position. There's no delicate way to explain the procedure.  There's an enormous hole in the table, chest area, your beloved body part dangles and the table is raised, surgeon accesses it from below.  Area is securely taped, prepped and numbed.  Needles are fun, aren't they??!  (eye roll)  Am told the table will vibrate, surgeon cautions me to lay perfectly still or the laser will slice me.  (no problem, I float away, not even present in the room)  And it begins.  Computer guides a gatling gun of needles as it commences to stab the tumor, withdraw specimens of cells.  Sounds horrific, but it isn't, numbing tends to that. Divert my eyes from the red, fleshy goop siphoning into the container, my eyes clamped shut much of the time. Lasts just a few minutes, dress, then am on my way.  Visit the same surgeon in a week for the results. Will not come back to this location, by then this center will also be closed by the pandemic mandate, next appointment is at a nearby hospital.

CHAPTER SIX

APRIL 1, 2020, APRIL FOOL'S DAY.  First time I have ever visited this hospital, enter alone, virus protocol at the door.  Surgeon’s office on the second floor, take the elevator.  Few folks in the building, those that are, like me, are wearing masks.  As I wait, pilfer on my ipad.  Name is called, off I go.  Today I find out this thing is benign, that I have been spazzing for weeks over nothing, naturally. Don't wait long for the Dr., I remain seated as he enters, greets me.  He begins  talking as he walks across the room, lays down my chart, then turns, making eye-contact, “you are so lucky to have had this test, mammogram did what it was supposed to do; we've caught it early.”  

IT 

“...(I go effectively deaf)  blah-blah-blah-blah-blah CARCINOMA.” A cataclysmic concoction of consonants and vowels strung together into syllables, words, in sentence form, delivered matter-of-factly.  What happens here is nothing short of BIZARRE.  Always imagined if I heard the words, “you have cancer,” I would react BADLY.

I would -

be angry

weep

go to pieces

vomit

all of the above

In reality -

I did not cry

I did not faint

I did not scream

Instead, sit calmly, silently.  Stoic. Utterly, absolutely, wholly dumbfounded. ( this isn’t real - my head hurts - is this a stroke!?)  REALITY  Brain cells scramble to focus, I listen intently to every word, nod occasionally.  Hearing all, absorbing little, during this a crash course on three types of breast cancer and treatment options available.  (drifting off  - I like him, he gestures with his hands as he speaks of surgery options.)  Reconstruction; their plastic surgeon is top notch. The decision is mine.  The doctor adds simply, “you know what will happen if you do nothing.”

I do

Unceremoniously and without a second’s hesitation, I react, “Get it off me,” hand on my chest. (subconscious protesting, “I feel FINE!!!!  THIS. IS. STUPID!!”)

He nods in acknowledgement of my words, continuing, discusses recurrence rates on the opposite breast. Fuzzy math. Right here I interrupt him with the wave of a hand, “Get them both off me!” For good measure, I repeat it.  Decision made, bilateral mastectomy it is, ASAP.  Hands me a print-out with my diagnosis, I roll the paper up like a diploma and slip it in my bag.  Stare down at the bag I take to work everyday . . (new-reality thoughts commence) or did … back when life was normal.  

“Lousy April Fool’s Day, ya gotta admit.” I mutter out-loud to him as I rise to my feet, reach for the door.  (how am I walking??!)

Ah, but COVID-19.  Global pandemic, if it were a person, he’d be a cold-hearted, merciless jerk.  I have to wait 14 days, be symptom-free in order to be permitted in their surgery unit or risk contaminating the whole place.  Condemned to live with my killer for 15 more days, let it sleep with me, go to work with me, hang out with me while I visit my kids, grandkids.   Melodramatic? You betcha, but the truth.  All the while knowing the beast is growing.  

I don’t exit the building until I am pre-registered for surgery, receive copious instructions, am assigned a day, APRIL 16.  Next to the radiology waiting room, there I message my sister, she is the first to know.  I have breast cancer.  There’s lab work, x-ray, EKG.  Am a zombie.  A polite zombie with cancer making idle chitchat with techs who have no freaking clue my unremarkable and average life has evaporated in the last 45 minutes.  

Poked, prodded, scanned and x-rayed - my walk across the parking lot is a 1,000 mile trek.  Open the door, slide into the seat, fasten the seat belt, inhale deeply, fill my lungs with air just so I feel alive and less numb.  Stare at my hands. Wish I could scream without attracting attention.  Vomiting would be a blessing about now.  I seem to be the same person that got out of the vehicle two hours before. No, am not the same at all. HOW do I do this????! Any of this??  

HOW??????????!!!!!

In the days that follow, I will unroll my biopsy report, familiarize myself: invasive lobular carcinoma, 1.6cm, grade 1, ER+PR+HER2-. (translation = hormone fed)  I will become versed about the enemy within, that if left untreated, would put me in the ground. Knowledge is power.

CHAPTER SEVEN

How do you tell the people you love, you have cancer? How do you toss a live emotional-grenade in a room? As terrifying as it is for me, I have to watch the realization sink in, the fear in their faces.  Jess and Leah, my girls, having initiated a video chat with me as I wait for labs at the hospital. “Mom...well, how’d it go??” Not necessary to share details out loud, I crack, my eyes said all there was to say. Tough to hide that.  Awful is the fact I’m in a public waiting room as they ask, am trying to hold it together, not disintegrate, explode into pieces.  Watch them absorb what they now understand.  I can’t help them.

Morning of April 1, the plan was to go back to work after the appointment. I don't. I aim the car toward home.

But first, I stop at my mom's house, to reveal the diagnosis to her and George.  This is the first time I will say the words.  Standing in the middle of her living room, my mouth opens and the emotion-less words fall out, “I have cancer too.” It is weird to hear it voiced and I feel bad for her.  (her sister, my dad, my brother, my sister, now me) Explain to her what I plan to do and comfort that it'll be alright.  She supports my decision: show no mercy to the beast. 

Head home.

Turn onto my county road, Jameson calls, asks how the Dr. visit went.  Avoiding answering, instead, ask if they are home, that I will be right there.  Am thankful I am not them.  He ‘knows’ from my tone, detects from the question.  My son and wife, Patty, live 1/4 mile from my house, I arrive at their place in only a couple minutes, walk into their living room where they both were, learn the kids are upstairs, state the fact to the both of them, and I sit down for a bit.  Just like that. Keep it light and matter of fact.  

Life is insane. 

CHAPTER EIGHT

What follows is 15 days trapped in a state of in-between.  Desperate for normalcy yet knowing I can’t have it.  What to do. What. To. Do.  Staying right-minded is the aim.  Crave it.  C-word rarely leaving my thoughts. Every day ‘hospital Jessica’ calls me to ask a series of Covid-19 related questions and asks my body temperature that I am tasked with taking each morning upon waking.

What I CAN maintain right now, is routine.

COVID locks my office door in mid-March, am the only one staffing there.  OU student move-in/move-out day is May 3.  I’m the one in charge of this, making sure everything is ready. Can’t cancel it . . it goes on with or without me.  Scheduling surgery mid-April, slashes two weeks off my prep time for this once-a-year event.  Realize the timing could not be better, if there IS such a thing, I have little free time to ponder what’s coming, am too busy.  Every day I plow through my work to-do list.  Go home too tired to indulge doom and gloom.  

Away from the office too, I quickly find another diversion, researching and shopping for items I might need after the surgery.  Soft tops with inner pockets for drains management, ice packs, hot packs, special propping pillow.  A miracle they all arrive on time because Amazon Prime has been waylay-ed by the corona virus.  A sick and twisted ‘Merry Christmas to me’ as each package arrives.  In some small way, gives me a semblance of control.  

Sleeping is not an issue during these days.  It’s my safe place.  Sleep deep and well, courtesy of a little purple pill discovered years ago.  (thank you, menopause) Each and every morning, have about 30 seconds of ‘normal’ before I remember what demon is living in me.  

An entertaining activity during this time is staring in my lingerie drawer at the start of every day, choosing which style, what color bra for one last travel in the rotation.  I waffle.  At first, suffer pangs of melancholy while looking at the neat row of vibrant colors and lace.  Then chuckle, cups are large enough to be made into hats for small children.  No one wants to discuss my boobs, but this is an important part of the process of letting go.  Acknowledgement.  A girl spends what seems like her whole life waiting for these body parts to materialize; coveted, we dress them up, suspend them with steel reinforcement, make the best of them.  They feed our children, we rock our babies/grandbabies against them.  They’re part of who we are.   Mine are set for execution.  It’s them or me.

Time ticks by. 

CHAPTER NINE

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 15.  Mastectomy Eve, am something I have never been, radioactive.  True.  This day go into the hospital ALONE, pass through the covid-19 gauntlet; escorted to a quiet room with a massive machine, bet it was a CT scanner, I don’t ask, I lay down on a metal table and a needle is inserted in my chest region, right side (still find it weird to use the word ‘breast’) and a radioactive tracer is placed in my body at the sight of the tumor.  I’d researched the procedure a little (LIE . . I researched a LOT) beforehand, and read it would be EXCRUCIATING.  So expect the worst.  Naturally.  Tech is kind and reassuring; small talk.  I notice what great hair he has.  Stare at the ceiling as I lay there. Then the doctor comes in, says I’ll feel a stick (had read the area is numbed first)  expect that.  Did.  Not horrendous - that’s an exaggeration, barely felt anything.  Assume we wait for the numbing to take effect before he drills through to the core.  What I DIDN’T expect, is him to say, “you’re done.”  Meaning that tiny prick was it.  Say what now?  Before the morning’s surgery, I’ll come back to this table, and will find out if the cancer has leeched into any lymph nodes.  I dress and exit the building.

ESCAPE! The rest of this day IS MINE. I take my dreary thoughts, my diseased chest, the ‘DD girls’ , and we hit the road, took the long way home.  Gave ‘them’ the best darned last-day-alive you could ask for.  Was the least I could do considering what I was consenting to do to them.  Pitied them and wanted them DEAD at the same time. Them or me.

Flowers waiting for me when I got home, the first time I sobbed in earnest. A torrent of tears.

CHAPTER TEN

THURSDAY, APRIL 16, 2020.  DtoDD DAY.  Death to DD’s Day.  (and my Mom’s 81st birthday) Eerily calm. I grab my packed bag, stare at my freshly-made bed as I turn to exit the bedroom.  Oh here comes one of those bizarro thoughts I have at times like this. Glancing around, mutter, “when I return, nothing will be the same.  Gee, I hope I come back.”  Melodramatic to a fault I am.  Patty drops me off at the hospital door at a ridiculously early hour.  Did I mention this is during a pandemic so no one can come in and that the hospital is spooky-empty and hushed??  Well, it is.  Apocolyptically-quiet.  Surreal.  Check-in is swift and efficient and a surgery-nurse retrieves me promptly, accompany her to the prep area. this is real?

This unit has a circle of several cubicles, all but three are empty though.  Settled in, changing into hospital gown, then I have three hours to ponder the fact that the last time I had surgery was 26 years ago and I am not as young as I used to be, and nowhere near ready to die, and lordy, I am no fan of pain.   I feel FINE . . how can something deadly be in me yet I feel this HEALTHY??

In the hours I wait, return to scan-room to see if this thing has reached my lymph nodes.  Dark room, humming machine.  Same tech lets me watch the screen, bright lights like tiny fireworks become visible. No clue what I am watching.

My appointed time arrives, was about 9:30 a.m.  Accompanied by a surgical nurse, I walk down the hallway to the O.R., my IV pole in tow. this isn’t real  Three surgical staff are busily prepping. Funny how apprehension makes one awkwardly talkative with strangers, more so than normal.  I greet them and cannot shut up, blather, “you know how kids took home tonsils in a jar?? (clutching my chest)  you have a gallon jug I can take these home with me?”  (yes, I really did say it)  Laughter from them, that’s good. Am offered a stool to climb onto the table.  I do.  My God, to the gallows, ‘girls’

Jettisoned into the Twilight Zone right here.  In the time it takes me to scoot, get comfortably horizontal on the table, sterile people descend on me, all over me doing things.  Arms, legs . .  belt around my abdomen.  Am picturing masked-ants.  Busy, busy.  Big light on the ceiling lowering, settles above my upper torso and head.  I feel FINE  Am here, but not here.  Oh God.  Gentle voice to my right, as a mask is fitted over my nose and mouth, “take a couple deep breaths.”

Blackness.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I’m struggling in deep water, not diving down - but up, shooting to the surface of the water, I need air.  Regaining consciousness, a jostling, repeating,  “Debbie, wake up.  Can you hear me?”  Awake.  Literal first conscious thought, drenched in relief -

“... NOT DEAD” 

Body is being tugged, moved, but I’m not doing it.  Realization hits me, where I am and what's happened.  Conscious, I no longer feel fine, unrelenting waves of nausea wash over me.  I give myself over to whichever medical professional wants to tend to me. They can have me, I don’t want me.  Not this me.

End up in a hospital room, no recollection whatsoever how.  Silence interrupted only by BP cuff on an ankle, inflating noisily at intervals reminding me I’m alive.  Not moving.  Lord, what have I done?  Ice packs under both arms.  Detest feeling this gross.  I hang onto the sheets for hours, ride out the nausea.

As terrible as that was, and it was horrendous, it ends abruptly once I am fully awake later in the afternoon. In fact, feel remarkably good - considering. Any pain is well-managed. I can move, even lift my arms. I can walk to the restroom, tend to myself.  Am hungry and eat a good dinner. Pleasantly surprised at this half of the day.

Curious. Here’s where I gingerly lift the blanket to get my first look. DD-girls are gone, replaced by a thick layer of bandage all across my chest, tubing, two drains, and . . . oh my lord . . . HOW long has my belly been that size??????!  God bless boobs, they divert one’s attention from a myriad of flaws. Geez-louise.

Thank you, Covid-19, for the hospital stay’s solitude, I don’t mind, I welcome not having to share this day with visitors.  Am only interrupted intermittently by nurses and the doctor.  No big deal.  Not much to tell.  Post on facebook that I survived.  Was released to go home the very next day with surgeon’s, “no restrictions. See you in a week, will have lab results for you then.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

FRIDAY, APRIL 17. HOME.  Here’s where it gets funny.  Seriously.  Humorous.   Reality.   My youngest, Leah, volunteers to stay for the first few days.  Plan on not needing much in the way of assistance.  Stubborn.  Not too uncomfortable, prop on pillows, watch tv, pain meds.  First-night, decide my bed is where I will sleep, let her have the couch.   Undeterred in the middle of the night, manage to get myself to the bathroom alone. Good for ME!! Ah, but then the sun comes up. Right here I discover Super Woman I am not.  Attempt the same maneuver and the stabbing pain angrily asserts, “NOT THIS TIME, SISTER!”  Ah, bladder is bossy and insistent. But Pain is in charge.  “#*&@*#&$}” a little too loudly (translation) “Leah!! Help!!”  She comes trotting and I’m laughing, trapped in my own bed.   Arms frozen at my sides, literally cannot move under my own power without an instant excruciating reaction.   With urgency (full bladder loudly protesting) instruct her to wring a bed sheet, get to the foot of the bed, hold the ends, let me grab the middle . . . PULL!!   It works!!  Whew, lesson learned, until I could get up and down on my own unaided, I didn’t sleep there again.  

Drains.  Grateful to only require two.  Three times a day they need emptying.  Unceremoniously, Leah’s job.  When large portions of flesh are removed, one’s body compensates by attempting to fill the space with fluid, drains are typically inserted to draw off this fluid, speeding recovery.  These ‘things’ (drain hoses) are just under my skin across the width of my chest, a stitch holding them in place at the hole (yikes) where they exit on either side.  The bulbs at the end of the 12 inch lines are clear grenade-shaped receptacles collecting wound-juice.   (you winched at the visual, didn’t you?  haha)  They get full.  Necessary to milk the line first, with sterile gloved fingers of one hand, she grasps and steadies the line where it exits my body, with the other, she slides her pinched fingers down the tubing, pushes the ooze and any clots to the end. Pops the top of the bulb, empties 'ick' into a measuring cup, and logs the amount and color.  Squeezes the bulb as she closes the lid so siphon will commence. My only job is to 'enjoy' the vigorous suction.   eek

I sit dutifully still on a stool while she goes about her ‘work’, chit-chatting about this and that, am intentionally not watching the gore slipping, dripping into the bulb. She's not hurting me but every now and then will feel a subtle tug, a movement of the tubing.  (shudder)  Sunday evening she taps the bulb’s bottom on the table, remarking, “darned clot won’t fall through.”  (rap, rap, smack)  “Eww, that’s gross,” she says, “clot (tap) won’t (tap) let go ( jiggling it, the dangling, stringing bloody blob just hanging there, swaying back and forth).”  My skin is warming . . . interesting sensation . . getting hot.  Really HOT.  She is sitting right next to me, is talking but her voice is fading.  Am looking her direction, but she is drifting away in a misty vapor . . . waaaaaaaaaaaay over there now, voice, can’t hear her.  Vision going and the room is moving ever so slightly.

I see my girl in slo-mo, she realizes what is happening, "Mom, Mom ... MOM!" (my mouth no longer works, cannot respond) hear her excited, “DAD!!!! Come quick!! Help! Mom’s passing out!!!”

Didn't. (did get to the couch . . sat still for an hour, feet up . . w/ice pack alternating on my neck, forehead) Didn’t vomit, so that's a 'WIN" for the day.

I learn to do it myself once she goes home. No big deal.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THURSDAY, APRIL 23.  A week passes, mostly uneventful.  Sick leave, lounging, medicating, tracking excretion of Deb-juice, healing.  Tough to remember the days in March and early April when I felt GOOD.  I feel terrible.  Blah - which to me, IS terrible.  No fever, no signs of infection, just a general feeling of malaise. (such a descriptive word, ‘malaise’)  Post-op visit, a follow-up with the surgeon. Oldest daughter Jess, chauffeur for the day.  The entire drive down to Gallipolis, I imagine they’ll take one look at my sorry self, react in horror, re-admit me immediately.  I have to be dying, something has to be terribly wrong. No one can feel this bleak and survive. 

Mull my life over for that hour drive, did I live it adequately, what is left that I have not done, am I going to throw up IN or OUT of her car . . oh woe is me . . my thoughts are rambling, disjointed, grim.  (BEYOND melodramatic) LOL  Get to the hospital, I have to admit I cannot even walk in under my own power.  I have no power, drained dry.  Jess requests a wheelchair and I feel how I imagine being 150 years old and feeble feels, reliant on a stranger for transport up to the waiting area.  Pitiful.  I hate this.  Too puny to care.

And remember COVID . . Jessica can’t come in with me.  My mummified remains parked in a desolate waiting room.  sigh  I need a transfusion.  I need a transplant, I need SOMETHING . . want my life back.  Where’d Debbie go??!! 

Eventually wheeled into the exam room (decrepit thing that I am) to wait.  Surgeon enters, his normal perky self, smiles my direction.  I lament the state of (absence of) well-being and inability to go to the bathroom for DAYS.  (how embarrassing)  “Sweetheart (NO, he did not say 'Sweetheart’) it’s your pain meds doing this to you.  STOP THEM.” 

huh?????! 

Examines the 12-inch incisions on either side of my torso. Both doing well. No stitches to remove, interior stitches will dissolve on their own. Exterior sterie strips will fall off in the next week. He studies my drain-log, then simply remarks, “looks great, amounts are decreasing steadily. You want them (drains) out today?” (glimmer of hope) Instantly agree, so without ceremony and with a quick snip of a stitch and a wiggle of the tube and a firm TUG, one Jackson Pratt drain is out. Nasty thing now coiled on the exam table. OUT!!! The other follows swiftly. Oh dear lord . . feels soooooooo good to be rid of those things. Best part . . expected to have them at least another week, that the extrication of same, would be horrendous. Wasn’t. Didn’t hurt actually. Bandaids applied to my newest holes. No stitch, no nothing. “See ya in a month. No restrictions.”  Surprised he didn’t pat me on my sorry head.

Trip home is infinitely better, envision the tunnel and light shining in the distance. aaaahhhhh

Not another pain pill crosses these lips . . the man is a genius.  (epilogue: my decline was indeed induced by the pain meds . . out of my system - recovering was a breeze.  TIP: get off them as soon as you can)

P.S. Almost forgot the most important part!!!!! Lab results!!!  Geez . .the tunnel, the light . .  THIS IS WHY!!!  TODAY I learn I am CANCER-FREE‼️‼️‼️ Well, I would hope so!!  Nearly six pounds of flesh sacrificed / removed . . CLEAN MARGINS around the tumor. Lymph nodes are CLEAR!!! Sentinel node removal a bit messy, seven others unable to be separated from it, come out as well.  Sobering fact is that I, nor the surgeon, felt a telltale lump - but it was there.  In black and white, sobering words, “STAGE TWO”. Appointment  with oncologist in May to discuss options.  Why???  Here's the thing about breast cancer, sometimes IT COMES BACK. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Want to tell you the euphoria was warmly welcome and long-lasting.  Yes and no, in that order.  Sharing with friends that surgeon ‘got it all’ was met with copious genuine exclamations of ‘thank God!’ and ‘hallelujah’.  For good reason.  Pathology report of clean margins and clear nodes is a positive outcome. IT’S GONE!!  And like me at this juncture, believe that’s the end of it.  Too few days of relief pass swiftly -  the reality that it may not be over, steadily seeps back in as I educate myself.  But with a stubborn childlike optimism, trust the oncologist will study my diagnosis, pronounce my journey with this evil thing over. “Deborah, congrats, you’re finished with it and it with you. Have a nice life.” Let’s go with that.  I want it.

Just a couple more weeks to find out.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In the meantime, at home I’m getting bored.  ‘Bored’ is WONDERFUL.  It’s normalcy.  And a strong signal that it’s time for life to go on.

I am well enough to attend to work emails, becoming more frequent as students prepare to leave Athens officially, the stalwart diehards who came back after Spring Break despite the lockdown that commenced mid-March.  Boredom, the impetus, that gets me out of the house.

TUESDAY, APRIL 28, 12 days post-op, several days free from pain-killers and feeling almost back to my old self, I slide behind the wheel of my car, new precious pillow between sensitive chest and the seatbelt and drive to work.  Man oh man, how I missed 70′s radio . . sing all the way.  I last at my desk for 4 hours this first day, mindful to recognize limitations, cut the day short, but go home triumphant.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

THURSDAY, APRIL 30.  Meet-my-oncologist day.  (mentally mark off THAT on my ‘Life’s List-of-Dreads’) First things first, why am I here??!  Surgeon recommends I have a chat with the man . . rule out the need for anything further.  Youbetcha. Today is THE. DAY!!  Fully expect to be ‘blessed’ and sent on my way . . “Debbie, you were lucky, it’s all gone.  Your cancer journey was intense and brief and now it’s over. Go live your life, girl.”

Check in.  Hunker down at the back of the vast lobby, comfy chair.  I absorb the room.  Oh you know I don’t want to, but I do.  A few patients are here.  One unhealthy looking older lady on a hospital stretcher over there.  Another slightly-weathered woman near the wall, wearing a turban.  And there’s me.  Odd-man out, pain-killers now out of my system: (yes yes, am minus the ‘girls’) full head of thick hair, kinda sorta minimally wrinkly, feeling strong and healthy . . . like me again.  

Name called.  BP and weight.  Perks of the day . .  bp is good, especially good for me.  Literally-asked-the-nurse-to-repeat-the-numbers good. And am down 10 lbs.  I’ll take it!!  Gee, this visit is headed in the right direction! 

Lead to an exam room, given a questionnaire.  Ugh.  Bottom of the page.  Please list details of immediate family members . . . health issues, explanation.  Here we go . .  Melvin / dad / died in 2000 @64 / lung cancer (scribble to the side ‘life time smoker’ . . like it somehow negates the dying)  Tim / brother / died in 2000 @39 / leukemia (again, the scribbling, master mechanic, hands in chemicals)  Stephen / brother / died in 1957 @6 weeks / S.I.D.S.  Bottom of this page is an OCD nightmare, ink scribbles in every direction, sad that I ran of space. Add, “Cheryl / sister / is 61 / @60 stage IV breast cancer (’maintaining’ . . didn’t add, but wanted to, “THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!”)   Janice / mom / is 81.  Terry / brother / is 55.”  Finishing up, as MY oncologist enters the room.

Brief introductions . .  Cursory physical exam of surgical site.

Oncologist reviews the information I provide, studies my chart.  Two verbal inquires of me - 

do you or have you ever smoked? “no”

do you drink alcohol and how much? “rarely” 

He pauses.  He can ascertain I’m not fudging the details.  “Never?” he queries again.  Shake my head in the negative.  Sincerely he adds, “this makes NO sense. Risk factors are not there for breast cancer.  No sense at all.” 

Dr. Hamid relates there is a genetic test that can be performed using my tumor tissue, (eewwww, they still have it!!)  the results determining whether or not chemo therapy would be of any benefit to me.  Again - I am confused why a person who is now disease-free, minus seven pounds of her best flesh, needs ANYTHING additionally.  I consent.  He jots down for me the chemo recipe that I would receive if it’s indicated.  Metaphysically burns my fingertips as I take the slip from him. (chemo??! stifling a scream)  If not, I would be prescribed a pill to stop my body's remaining production of estrogen.  Anastrazole is the drug of choice, there are a few common side effects: bone/joint pain, fatigue, etc.  Majority of women experience no side effects of any kind, he assures.  (mental note of an over-achiever: I will be one of THOSE)  Dr. adds, “Lab work takes about two weeks to get back.  Come see me in two weeks please.   Oh wait . .  you drive quite a distance to get here, right?  Just call my office on May 13, we can handle this over the phone.”

uh huh  . . .  so much for being blessed and sent on my merry way.  CHEMO, sub-set item under 1. CANCER on  ‘Life’s List-of-Dreads’.  TRULY . . . there is nothing I enjoy MORE, than waiting on test results.   (epic eye-roll right here, stomach twists in knot)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

This is the last chapter of ‘65 DAYS IN MAY’ (today it’s February 25, 2021) I am a procrastinator.  Am still me, after all.  My instructions were to call oncologist’s office on Wednesday, May 13, 2020, to learn whether or not chemo therapy was the next step in my cancer treatment.  By now I have little recollection of the blur of days between April 30 and when Dr. Hamid called me with my genetic testing results, my Oncotype score.  Every day seemed endless, recovering well, feeling progressively more like myself.  I let work duties bulldoze me through those days, thoroughly occupied. I was thankful to have nearly 300 college students moving-out and moving-in on May 3rd.  Grateful to be bone weary at the end of each day, having little time to thrash about the prospect of chemo - that, and staying safe as COVID rampaged.

TUESDAY, MAY 12, at my desk, alone in a pandemic-locked-down office.  One last day not having to call, know anything.  Ignorant bliss.  Phone rings, spy caller I.D., uh-oh, cancer center.  I stop breathing.  Lift receiver, ‘Hello, this is Debbie.’  Not breathing.   HERE WE GO  (9+ months later now, still recall the catch of my breath and pounding heart.  Am not exaggerating when I tell you time froze.)  Dr. Hamid’s voice was soft, he wasted no time relating my Oncotype score plus chance of recurrence is low and chemo is not necessary in my situation. He’ll call in an Anastrazole script for me, it cuts my chance of recurrence to less-than 5%.  Only question I had, “what exactly was my number?”  17    “See you again in 6 months,” as he ends the call.  Stare at the phone receiver clenched in my hand.

NO CHEMO . .  with exorbitant gusto, I EXHALE

Celebration fireworks in my head, both hands in the air, stifle an audible, triumphant HALLELUJAH!   For the moment, issued a reprieve.  I soak it up.  Once composed, swivel chair to my right, run my palms slowly, purposefully over the desk calendar, lift the pages, studying, absorbing.  Begin to count . . . .

STINT IN PURGATORY - 65 DAYS IN MAY

EPILOGUE

(stay tuned)

[mingethemerciless-blog]

The trials and tribulations of minge.

I’m a very scruffy person, when I was 13 I went through the usual teenage trial of having my teeth straightened, they had to take 4 molars out because they were pushing the others into such bizarre states of wonk that the orthodontist barely knew where to start.

I wore those badges of adolescent awkwardness for near enough two years. My friends all came out with american style smiles. Mine, although slightly straighter, remained resolutely, stereotypically british and scruffy.

Twenty years later I was walking at a smart pace down the track to the bus stop. I had washed and styled my hair, picked out an outfit which I hope said “responsible” and “in full control of her mental faculties” By necessity it included a slightly impractical maxi skirt, but I had learned over the years, that this was the best uniform for my current endeavour.

On the bus my reflection in the window told me that my luxuriant shiney bob had inexplicably flattened in places where I needed volume and frizzed up at the points where I had taken hours to smooth it out, the former gelam now looked distinctly greasy.

I fiddled nervously with my hair and the collar of my shirt until I arrived at the hospital.

This hospital is where I was born. Sitting at the top of a hill, it has one of the best views over the city that I have ever seen. I stared out of the window and almost calmed myself down, this might be the last chance I got to convince these people to help me...

My name was called, I shook the doctors hand.

“I hear you’ve been having some trouble with your periods” he understated.

Since the age of 23 I have been winning awards, if only in my own mind, for “worlds longest period” and “most blood lost without fatality.”

I launched into my unflinching and well practised description of the ping pong ball sized blood clots. The time one fell out of me in the shower and was so huge and heavy I was convinced I’d just given birth to an alien, I picked it up to check if it had a face, bits of it fell off and clogged the drain. I calmly recounted the years and years of seeping dread, the fact that I hadn’t gone swimming, worn white or finished a meal without a sickly slug of feroglobin in years.

I wasn’t scared any more, Cancer had suggested itself in my mind on and off for several years, but, as a nurse once blandly put it: “If it was cancer you’d be dead by now.”

My mind was throwing out tendrils of thought about my other dread. Pregnancy. When I was 18 I calmly accepted what I was told when I said I didn’t want children: 

“You’ll change your mind” they would say in a funny sing-song way.

 I’d probably want them when I was a proper adult, say, 25 years old.

25 came around, I was in no way a proper adult nor did I yet want children. No problem, there was plenty of time for me to want them, I’d just think about it a whole lot and then I’d want them.

30 came around, and I could no longer deny, the thought of pregnancy repulsed me. To be a host body to a parasitic bundle of flesh, to have my blood drawn away from me and into this other being. The idea of my cunt tearing open, a living thing coming out of me. A living thing with my weak jawline? With my scruffy hair? What if I didn’t love it? What if it turned out to be as intolerable a little shit as most of the children I’d ever met were? What if it grew up and went on being an intolerable little shit...come to think of it like most of the adults I’d ever met were?  What if, instead of doing something which changed the world for the better, it just became another consumer. Oh god what if it voted for Rees-Mogg? What if that apocalypse we’ve been promised actually happened and I had to raise an intolerable little shit in a cave whilst fighting off mutant tories and puerperal fever?

A more realistic and terrifying thought was never far from my conscious mind: What if I was raped? What if an abortion was too traumatic or, in the sadly likely event of an NHS sell off, too expensive? What if the current trends continue even further and an abortion was simply unavailable? Would I find someone clean and steady handed enough to do it on the kitchen table? Could I find the right hedgerow ingredients? Would I survive that?

“Do you want children?”

I was very glad that this came up.

“Definitely not, in fact I’d like to ask for a tubal ligation.”

“That won’t help with the bleeding”

“I know, it’s a separate issue, but I think it’s relevant…”

On the young man's face I saw faint hint of the bemused horror I’d seen on my GPs face when I had first asked, almost the beginning of a nervous laugh, although none had gone so far as to laugh at me yet…

My GP had looked at me the way teachers would look at me when I told them I’d lost my library card or forgotten my essay. Faux shock, the kindly-meant disappointment of a grandparent seeing you make a youthful blunder. His voice had come out with just the merest subtle hint of a condescending laugh in it when he told me he could refer me to a specialist but it was unlikely they’d give “someone like you” such a “drastic” operation.

Someone like me? Scruffy? Irresponsible? Disorganised? 

And how was maintaining my personal status quo drastic? Surely having to fire a fully dependant, sapient life out of my pelvis was far more drastic than just...carrying on as I was?

In any event, none of the appointments that GP had made had referenced my desire to get the snip, almost as if he didn’t even write it on the request he sent...

The current gynaecologist shook off the uncanny look he had given me for asking the forbidden question and asked if he could “scan me” Oh great, another date with the dildo-cam…

I’ve had this scan done so many times, my cervix is directly connected to the pain centers of the brain, one mere prod and all hell breaks loose in my nerves, it’s no good telling doctors this, they adhere rigidly to the “some women experience discomfort” school of thought.

The young nurse was wonderful, allowing me to squeeze her hand when the probe swept over my diva of a cervix and white stars of agony danced on the ceiling above me.

“You have a very large ectropion on your cervix, it’s probably causing a lot of the bleeding”

“Yes, I’ve been told that many times…”

“Hmm, we could get rid of this ectropion with silver nitrate, it might help stop the bleeding?”

Holy shit, you mean there was a way to get rid of that thing all along?!

I consented as calmly as I could.

The next thing I knew he was jabbing my insides with chemical soaked lollipop sticks, but I was more than willing for this to happen after 10 years of inaction and casual shrugs at my wayward cervix.

I was told to brace myself for “gritty discharge” as bits of burnt cervix dropped out of me along with all the other nonsense going on down there.

Later, pants back on, veins blossoming with green bruising from the “hormone level” blood tests, my innards were laid out in bland yet descriptive medical descriptions.

My womb had a “septum” which immediately made me think that it had a face, a scornful, angry face I would dearly love to punch for the years of ruined underwear, bedsheets and dates.

My right ovary was polycystic,

“This can lead to diabetes and heart disease later in life so you’ll have to be wary of gaining weight…”

My body type is made up of circles, I have rounded hips, boobs, thighs and face, when I was younger I worried briefly that I was chubby, but I was active and I ate well, I could still see my ribs and I could power walk up the hill to my house without so much as a sweat. I gave the doctor a blank look, he still hadn’t discussed my tubal options yet...

The doctor now took on a slightly lower, more cautious tone, evidently more scared of upsetting me with this next information than he had been by talking about my weight.

“You may find it slightly harder to get pregnant...but it’s by no means impossible”

I did a double take. 

“...That’s really not a problem for me...what with the tubal ligation request and all…” I hinted cheerfully.

He made a neutral sound and moved on with a list of my uterine shortcomings.

My left ovary was “very mobile” (my mind gave it a beard and a bindle stick) and showed some evidence of endometriosis.

“I’ve never had any symptoms of that…”

“Again this can lead to some minor complications in conception and pregnancy…”

Was I speaking klingon? Was I mispronouncing “tubal ligation”? Was IVF so much cheaper than the lady snip that they’d rather I reproduced despite my clear desire not to do so and regret an actual living human?

“You have some signs that there may be polyps in your uterus, that’s not harmful but they may be contributing to the bleeding, in which case, we can remove them.”

I was booked in for a hysteroscopy, which sounded painful in spite of the “some women experience discomfort” platitude, and a review in 3 months time.

“Do you have any questions?”

I took a deep breath, I knew this was a separate issue but I had to bring this up whenever I could because there was no obvious way to request it otherwise.

“How do I go about getting the tubal ligation?”

The look of horror came back, much stronger this time, the poor sod had run out of things to distract me with, his face turned to a look of utter defeat.

“I wouldn’t even consider doing that until you had exhausted all other contraceptive options and had fertility counselling, have you considered the mirena coil? It’s progesterone only and most women find it very good…”

My mind flashed back to the last “progesterone only” treatment I’d had: Migraines had hidden the worst of the symptoms for the best part of 6 months, by the time they were under control again the real problem became tragically apparent. My sex drive was so low that I could barely tolerate a hug, in desperation I had the little plastic rod dug out of my arm with a scalpel, but my libido never fully recovered, don’t try telling me the effects aren’t permanent…

A further flashback to the copper coil. The way it dug itself into the side of my womb, the way it hurt, exactly how much and how long it hurt for, How there had been no one in my local GP surgery willing to remove it for me (grab the string and pull, I refuse to believe that this requires a specialist qualification on top of medical training.) The serious thought I gave to yanking it out myself, only stopping when the prospect of a torn cervix put me off. 

A rich history of contraceptive pills danced through my brain, mood swings, swollen boobs and most memorably a migraine so bad that I called NHS Direct and was told to monitor myself for signs of a potentially fatal brain haemorrhage...

The time they’d tried to stop the bleeding with anti-inflammatories and discovered my allergy to this group of medications when I broke out in a measles style rash.

Those memories don’t blur with time, at least they haven’t yet.

“Statistics show that you would regret being sterilized, you don’t have a family”

For a brief second my imagination took me to an episode of The Twilight Zone. I don’t have a family? Shit! What happened to them? My siblings? My partner? My parents? My friends?

The anger when I realised what he really meant seeped through my mind like a blood clot through a pad.

“You don’t share DNA with anyone who came out of you therefore you have no family”

“You haven’t had to push your family with your pelvic floor therefore they don’t count”

“If you eventually decide to adopt that won’t count either”

“Everyone you currently live with, love and rely on will reject and abandon you because you didn’t give birth to them.”

Blood clots, along with anger of that magnitude tend to flood the sanitary pad or mind.

Luckily, I have had years of practise at crossing my legs and trying to discreetly aim my crotch at the driest part of the pad. This, in effect, was how I ordered my mind at that moment.

“Don’t yell at NHS people, they have enough problems. The poor man was just working off a script, of course they have to be careful, one litigious malcontent could set these heroes back years…”

I left, with no clearer an idea of how to get my tubes tied and no idea why this was the first time, cysts, polyps and septums had been discovered after so many tests over so many years.

Back home I attempted to find out how much private hospitals charged for tubal ligation. “Anywhere between $700 and $10,000 depending on your insurance provider”  ecosia informed me in very american and somewhat unhelpful terms.

An inquiry to Spire healthcare yielded an unapologetic result of £3000, that’s a lot of minimum wage hours and late rent payments, besides £200 of that was for a consultation in which they might refuse me anyway. 

I wondered if those places in Turkey where they do cheap facelifts might consider my case...Would having scalpels jabbed into me in a country where I couldn’t speak the language followed by a cramped and cheap flight be more or less unbearable than a kitchen table abortion? Either way the word “botched” was never far from my mind.

When the day came for my hysteroscopy I steeled myself for another try. The gynaecologist was a lovely, calm young woman with curly hair. She spent a long time reassuring me that I was in control and could stop the procedure at any time. She told me that she would take a biopsy from my womb lining in addition to shoving a camera up where no camera had gone before. She showed me the camera. I wish she hadn’t.

“See, it’s very small.”

It was slightly smaller than a pencil. Small compared to a baby maybe. But I knew exactly how big that thing was going to feel in my stupid nervy cervix. Turns out I was wrong.

It was far bigger and far sharper and far more white hot than I thought possible. 

The nurses squeezed my hand and told me it would be over soon.

I never stopped her, I wanted this done, I wanted to know what the hell was wrong with me. I wanted to show what a good patient I was, how in control of my mind and body I was, how I would take the responsibility of dealing with sterilization without regret...

I learned just how exponential pain can be.

When someone said “This will take another five seconds” I discovered how long five seconds can feel.

I found out, to my displeasure, that passing out does not necessarily stop you feeling pain, it simply stops you moving. I learned just how wonderful the overworked and underpaid folks of the NHS really are when they brought me water and later tea and let me sit in a comfy chair and shake without telling me that they needed me to get a grip and move on because they had a full waiting room…

The results were discussed with me. There were no polyps, there was no septum, what's more, my womb was perfectly shaped to receive a mirena coil…

Sterilization wouldn’t stop the bleeding, it was a separate issue. The mirena would stop the bleeding and stop any pregnancy. Sure I’d have to have it ripped out of the most sensitive, nerve rich part of me and then stuffed back in broadside first every three years, assuming I hadn’t emigrated and the NHS was still there that is. And the progesterone might...exacerbate certain things, but that would probably settle down...

 I sighed, drained my tea and smoothed down my faithful maxi skirt. 

Alright uterus, you don’t like me and I don’t like you, but it looks like we’re in this together. Here’s another burning hoop for us to jump through, lets give these folks the show they’ve been waiting for...

[rosettahart]

Glass-says: Chapter 10

Chapter 1, Chapter 9

Ao3 link

Summary: A few crushing gays getting to know each other a bit more.

Warnings: A Nod To What Happened With Paris, Self doubts.

Chapter 10

Patton couldn't stay still or keep his grin from his face, practically bouncing with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He did his best not to kick against the counter he was sitting on in the back of the room, so as not to distract Virgil from the lesson. He hopped down from his spot as soon the bell went off, giving a sympathetic wince as Virgil flinched at the unexpected noise. 

"Sorry, Kiddo. Didn't mean to spook you there." Patton apologized, moving to stand beside Virgil as he packed up his things.

"It's okay, Pat. You're excited. I could feel it radiating off you since he asked you." Virgil shook his head. "You going to be able to sit through another class?" He teased.

"I just can't believe he did!" Patton exclaimed, taking Virgil's arm. "Do you think he has any siblings? They'd probably be graduated already or he would have been walking to school with them, right? What do you think his parents are like? Do you think I'll get a chance to meet them? Or I guess I wouldn't be meeting them so much as seeing them." He chuckled.

"Are these wonderings about my parents or someone else's?" Logan inquired from behind the two, pushing up his glasses and walking past them to set his bag down at a desk.

"Logan!" Patton tackled him into a hug, causing Logan to stumble back into the desk, just managing to catch himself. Everyone else in the classroom went quiet. Multiple pairs of eyes turned to try and figure out what was going on, glancing between Logan and Virgil.

Logan blinked a few times, his eyes wide in shock.

Virgil wasn't sure what to do, not enjoying all the attention.

Patton pulled away as he noticed the tension in Logan's figure, surveying the room and then looking back to Logan in concern. "Sorry, Lo. I guess I got a little excited there."

Logan took another moment to pull himself together, taking in the stares as he straightened his clothes and glasses. He was (for once) thankful for Romans presence as he entered with his associates, causing everyone else to return to their conversing.

"It's quite alright, Patton. Though a warning next time would be appreciated. You are rather hyper-excited to see me for having last been gathered..." Logan glanced down at his watch, opening his mouth so as to speak when the teacher slammed his bag down onto the desk, causing most the class to jump.

"Catch up period! Finish up any unfinished assignments and if you aren't sure how to just ask your friends for help. My wife is pregnant and craving dried seaweed so just leave when you're done." Mr. Lewis instructed.

"But you don't have a-" A girl with glasses tried to argue.

"Seaweed! Exactly!" Mr. Lewis interjected before she could finish her sentence. "Now everyone to the library!"

Logan sighed, pulling his bag back over his shoulder, leading the way out of the classroom. "Has Mr. Lewis always been this careless about his students education? This is the second time in three classes that he has sent us off to educate ourselves."

"No. He almost never raises his voice like that. He's usually pretty quiet and calm. We only get classes like this if we're ahead of where we're supposed to be." Virgil answered, unlocking the soundbooth door and settling into one of the bean bag chairs. He pulled out the glasses, putting them on.

"Interesting. Would it be right to assume he is not a married man either?"

"Mr. Lewis? Married?! No way. A third of the school has had a crush on him including Remy and they are not the type of person to go for a married man." Roman laughed from his place in the doorway. He tossed his bag onto the floor. "What's up Specs and…" Roman did a double take, smirking at Virgil, "Or I guess it's Specs one and Specs two now."

Virgil took a second, glancing at Patton and then bringing a hand up to touch the glasses he was wearing. His face reddened. He proceeded to swiftly yank them off and throw them at Logan who just barely caught them.

"They're Logan's! I don't need glasses! I just... I just wanted to know how bad his eyesight is that's all." Virgil reasoned, holding his hands up.

"Easy, panic at the everywhere, I won't tell anyone you need glasses." Roman chuckled, taking a seat on the floor. "I would have pegged you for owning a darker colored pair of glasses, but the blue really brings out your eyes."

Logan shook his head, switching his frames for Patton's and packing his own away. He pulled out his notebook to go over. 

"Was your only intention in coming here to flirt with Virgil or were you actually planning on completing any assignments?" Logan quipped, flipping through his notes and taking out another book and a pen.

Roman winced at Logan's annoyed tone. "Sorry." He apologized awkwardly, getting his own stuff out.

Logan looked up from his work confused by Romans lack of a comeback and way the room had gone into an uncomfortable silence. He noted Virgil's unsure glances to Roman and how he bit down on his lip.

"A not so nice Kiddo said some not so kind words about Roman possibly being gay yesterday. I'm sure you didn't mean it like that, but Ro might've taken it the wrong way." Patton explained, watching over Roman as he did.

Logan turned his attention to study Roman as well.

Roman was trying his best to look like he was actually working on one of his assignments. He glanced between his notes and his draft for an essay. Was it really that obvious that he liked Virgil? They had only just started hanging out, but it seemed everyone was already making assumptions about why they suddenly were. Maybe he should cool it with the flirting. He didn't even know if Virgil liked guys that way, but at least he knew he didn't mind the idea of same sex relationships. It was Logan he wasn't sure about. He pulled out his pen to make some notes on his essay, attempting to dispel the endless questions with work.

Logan exhaled, looking back down at his notes. "My apologies, Roman. It is not my place to comment on how you converse with Virgil unless it's hurtful or uncomfortable for him. I just wished for somewhere quiet to review my notes and was not expecting the extra company."

"It's alright, Teach. I shouldn't have invited myself in to crash this nerd party." Roman returned, putting his things down. He glanced around the space, leaning back on his hands. "This is quite the gathering place. When did you start hanging out here?" He asked Virgil.

"Uh, I don't know... Sometime last year?" Virgil supplied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"You mean we could've been eating lunch together for almost a year now?!" Roman exclaimed, realizing something with a teasing grin. "Did you ever enjoy any of my one man performances?"

"No! I never intentionally-" Virgil began to deny, his face heating up.

"So you did!"

Virgil groaned, pulling his hood over his head and tugging on the drawstrings.

Patton snickered.

"I am certain that most of what Virgil would have witnessed was completely nonsensical without context or audio to accompany all of your bouncing around the stage like a lunatic." Logan speculated from what he had seen himself.

"A lunatic?!" Roman sputtered indignantly. "I'll have you know most of my monologues are performed in one small section of the stage! And I never bounce around while I am performing one! If anything I would be gracefully gliding across the stage." He defended.

Virgil snorted from where he was sitting. "You mean like that one time you tripped over your backpack because you were so into the scene?"

Roman's face reddened. "It was part of the act."

Virgil shook his head. "You sprained your wrist."

"You were the one who told the nurse?"

The bell rang signaling the end of the school day.

Virgil packed up his things. "You were annoying me with your wincing the next class when you tried writing with it." He muttered.

"Thank you for looking out for me." Roman smiled softly.

"You were being an idiot." Virgil returned, getting up and leaving the soundbooth.

"I most certainly was not!" Roman began to argue, following after him.

Logan pulled his bag up over his head. "It's still hard to believe they haven't taken the time to become acquaintances till now. I am sure that reason has to do with Virgil's reluctance." He noted. "We should get going now. I opened up my schedule this afternoon so I don't want to waste any time."

"Aww, you freed up your time for me?" Patton teased with a hint of a blush. 

Logan exhaled, switching out a few things from his locker and bag. "If I hadn't we wouldn't have as much time to do tests and you would have had to wait as I did work around my house." He closed his locker. 

"Tests? I'm not very good at tests." Patton chuckled.

Chapter 11

Author's notes: One more chapter and then things get a little more interesting, hopefully. Thanks again for waiting. Next update will most likely be out sometime this month. Thanks for reading! -Danielle

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