Title: The Surrogate
Fandom:
CSI
Characters:
Nightshift CSI's
Prompt:
#29 – Birth
Word Count:
8,251
Rating:
M (Possible strong but non-explicit adult themes, references to violence, and strong coarse language.)
Summary:
Greg lives in a world where some men can successfully carry children. Being one of them he struggles to come to terms with the requirement he has to act as a surrogate for strangers he'll never meet.
Author's Note1:
Part of "The Surrogate" Series. Directly before "Have to Talk".
Author's Note2:
small CSI: LV/CSI: NY Crossover; WARN: set in an Alternate Universe where male pregnancy (MPreg) is considered normal, Slash; This fic sometimes takes the situations that have happened in the show into consideration and sometimes disregards them completely.
Disclaimer: I own nothing …


The Surrogate

Part I

Intro:

Since the early nineteen seventies the strange, but not unusual, natural phenomenon of successful male pregnancy has been utilized by the government for the greater good of humanity - at least that's what they tell the public. It also served as a way for the government to control a portion of the population growth.

As it stood couples could, for a fee, implant embryos into the womb of a "Carrier Male" effectively enabling the couple to create a family with less impact on their working lives as there had been previously. It became a very profitable practice and over the years the cost of this 'procedure' dropped to a relatively low price of $5,000 (half the cost of locating a female surrogate).

Some of the regulations that were eventually put in place regarding "carrying males" (commonly referred to as merely "Carriers") included mandatory screening (after birth) of all infants to locate the Carrier gene, the Viable Carrier Registry, and the minimum age for 'active carrying' which was set at seventeen. Remarkably, these regulations were consistent nation-wide - despite its' lack of coast-to-coast agreement in many issues, the good old US of A agreed across the board that mandatory 'carrying' for under seventeen and still in high school was unfair.

For the subject of this story this occurred in much the usual way.

-o0o-

He'd been seventeen the first time it happened – the usual age for this sort of thing. It had been three days after his final exam in his San Gabriel high school in California. He'd sighed upon seeing the company logo on the envelope, raking his hand through his short newly bleached-blonde hair.

He knew his parents had been a bit disappointed when he'd been born. They'd tried, unsuccessfully, to conceive a child through natural means for many years before turning to the Carrier Aide Foundation for fertility assistance. Two attempts and $10,000 later Gregory Hojem Sanders came into the world. Born of a male surrogate, it only slightly disappointed his biological parents that his screening revealed that he himself possessed the Carrier gene. But they were so happy to have any child that they decided against trying for another.

Being a viable Carrier wasn't exactly frowned upon, but given the fact that it was becoming so widely available for couples to use a male surrogate many businesses and corporations were becoming more selective when hiring Carriers - some refusing to hire Carriers at all for 'safety reasons'. While it wasn't uncommon for a family to ignore the Carrier gene until the child became 'active', it was also not unheard of for the couple to relinquish paternal rights of any or all Carrier children and raising the rest.

Luckily for Greg he lived out his childhood as any normal child with his parents as opposed to foster care or an orphanage.

The teenage Greg had retreated to his room to read his letter in private. His first clients, it turned out, were a married couple from the neon-glowing city of Las Vegas, Nevada. The wife was a soon to be ex-stripper and her husband was in music management. From the brief outline the couple chose not to have a child naturally and this would be their first one. Greg skimmed the rest of the information noting the date and time set up for the in-vitro procedure, which would take place the next day. When it was determined the implantation was a success and his pregnancy had survived the first trimester he be relocated to Las Vegas so it would be easier for the parents-to-be to be contacted. Joy.

He waited until after dinner to inform his parents about his appointment the following day. They feigned interest for a few moments before pretending it hadn't come up.

Three months later:

Greg sighed as he de-boarded the plane and stepped into the Las Vegas airport. He felt a little queasy upon landing and hoped his morning sickness wasn't about to come back in a full rage. He tried not to remember that part of the feeling he had was related to the fact that he wouldn't strictly be able to join his classmates at Stanford this year – his entire education would be paid for by the Carrier Aide Foundation. As it was he'd be doing all the theory portions of his classes through correspondence. It was only after the birth that he would finally be permitted to attend the actual facility and complete any practical portions of the classes. Until then he'd be set up in a cozy little apartment in Las Vegas to be nearer to the parents of the child he carried. It seemed like everyday more and more women preferred to hire a Carrier to act as surrogate in order to maintain their jobs.

He took a slow breath to quell the nausea and collected his luggage before glancing around the exit gate. It was nearing eight o'clock in the evening and he was getting sleepy despite napping on the plane. He noticed the sign with his name and approached the man dressed as a chauffer. 'Hey, I'm Greg Sanders,' he said by way of introduction.

'Good evening sir,' the gentleman tipped his hat and took control of Greg's luggage cart (most of it containing books for his studies - classes started in two weeks). 'If you'll just follow me.' One car ride later found him outside a moderately comfortable looking apartment complex standing in front of a man who looked to be a CAF (Carrier Aide Foundation) representative.

'Good evening, Mr Sanders,' the man greeted. 'My name is Paul Weiss, I'll be your CAF rep.' Greg nodded and shook the man's hand before following Mr Weiss into the complex and to what would be his home for the next six months.

'As you are aware, you will reside at this residence for roughly the next six months until you give birth,' Mr Weiss explained and Greg nodded. 'And I don't need to remind you that it is your responsibility to take care of yourself and not get into any trouble. After all, the child you carry is not yours,' the man smiled and Greg gave a forced grin. 'In case you forget any rules or regulations there is a booklet with all the information you need right here on the coffee table. My contact information is written on the inside cover. If you have any questions or concerns don't hesitate to call, we don't want any problems. There is also a business card of mine on your fridge along with the list of scheduled doctor visits. The cabinets and fridge are fully stocked, a nutritional booklet is on the kitchen counter and all the pre-natal vitamins you need at present are in the bathroom medicine cabinet,' Mr Weiss rattled off. 'Now, do you have any questions for me before I leave?'

'Nope,' Greg said as the chauffer who'd driven him from the airport brought in the last of his luggage.

'Alright Mr Sanders, here's your keys.' He handed them to Greg. 'Oh, I almost forgot.' Weiss walked over to the television and opened the cabinet beneath it. He extracted a black duo tang and walked back over to Greg. 'Here is all the information about the parents-to-be that you will need to know.' He set it on the coffee table next to the information booklet. 'I hope you enjoy your stay. I'll talk to you soon.' They shook hands once more and Weiss left. Once the door clicked and Greg locked it he settled onto the couch and sighed.

'Home,' he said in a decidedly melancholy voice. He wondered about the parents of this child. He sat up and grabbed the duo tang from the table in front of him. Sitting back he opened it in his lap. The first page showed a photo of a strawberry blonde woman with deep blue eyes and a brunette man with lighter blue eyes. The caption under the photo read "Catherine and Eddie Willows". From the photo they seemed nice enough. He studied the photo for a while before flipping through the pages. There wasn't a whole lot. Just contact information for the couple - work numbers, addresses, emergency contacts, and so on. He flipped the duo tang shut and dropped it back onto the table. He glanced around the room and his gaze fell on his luggage piled off to one side. He sighed again and went to the boxes and bags to search for his pyjamas and get ready for bed.

As he lay under the covers he felt a sense of emptiness creep over him. He suddenly felt small and alone in this strange city.

-o0o-

Greg pressed the 'power' button on his television remote and tossed it onto the couch beside him. He stretched and glanced at the clock hanging above the doorway leading to the kitchen. It was nine o'clock in the evening. He grinned and stood to search for his shoes and jacket.

Exiting his apartment complex he glanced around, making sure there were no recognizable CAF agents. He was on a mission. A very secret mission. A mission of great importance.

He took the now familiar route to the nearest convenience store. Having quickly tired of eating nothing but health food, Greg's cravings became near impossible to ignore. He'd been in Las Vegas for two weeks and in that time he'd made numerous trips to the same convenience store in search of an item he regularly 'smuggled' back to his apartment: mint chocolate chip ice cream.

While Greg was not confined to the apartment, and frequently found time between pre-course readings of textbooks to mingle with the locals, there were still certain restrictions placed on him. One was a requirement to eat healthily. It was on his way back home that he came across a young man in a baseball cap wearing a backpack wandering and looking hopelessly lost. Normally Greg found it better to keep to himself while wandering the streets of Sin City. But looking at this man Greg couldn't help but feel for him – strangely in more ways than one.

'You look lost, stranger,' Greg smiled softly. The square jawed man turned anxious, and even sad, brown eyes to him.

'That would probably be 'cause I am,' a Texan accent replied.

'Well no wonder, you sound pretty far from home.'

The man grinned. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Nah,' Greg shrugged. 'Just, well, a lot.' The Texan's grin widened and he looked bashful. Greg thought it was cute – something he'd never thought of in regards to another man before.

'You want some company for a bit as you wander?' Greg offered suddenly. 'Might help you get re-oriented.'

The stranger looked hesitant before nodding. 'Sure,' he replied with a small smile still on his lips. 'I'd love that.' The two began walking in the direction of Greg's apartment. 'I'm Nick, by the way. Nick Stokes.'

Greg shook the man's hand. 'Greg Sanders, pleased to meet you.'

-o0o-

Greg could safely say he'd never, not in any of his seventeen years on this earth, ever felt anything other than platonic for members of the same gender. Not once. Until now.

In later years he wouldn't be able to recall exactly how it was that the man he'd only just met ended up in his apartment. But he would clearly remember the gentle way the Texan caressed his skin. The butterfly kisses he'd felt tracing their way down his jaw line, his neck, his chest. He would remember the feel of the older man's skin as Greg removed his shirt, Greg running his hands over the man's naked shoulders.

He'd remember feeling the chilled traces of mint ice cream on his chest followed by the delicious burn of his lover's tongue. He'd remember the taste of the same ice cream mixed with the taste of the man's skin.

Maybe it had something to do with him not having been this intimate with another person since before Christmas in his senior year in high school. Maybe it was the isolation he'd felt since the letter arrived months ago.

He'd never before felt the excitement triggered by this southern man's touch. Without thought he wrapped his legs around the man's waist and moaned wantonly. He pulled the man as close to him as possible, raking his nails down his partner's back eliciting heated moans from the man's throat. They moved together in the rhythm of an erotic symphony. Its' crescendos nearly made him lose consciousness a few times. His lover didn't miss a single beat. With the pounding of his own heart the last crash of a cymbal brought them both to the brink of oblivion. Not for the first time that evening his hushed voice breathed his lover's name before he tasted the man's breath mingled with his own.

-o0o-

It was now early February and Greg couldn't say he didn't feel fortunate that he wasn't physically attending the Stanford campus at the given point in time. He was only a few weeks away from his due date and quite frankly felt about the same size as his entire apartment complex. He wasn't exactly sure how it was that he could even fit through the door. His doctor had repeatedly assured him that his weight was normal and there was nothing to fret about but he couldn't help it. Despite all this he felt guilty for looking forward to having his body back – for however long that may be.

He was going for a stroll this afternoon to the same old convenience store that he'd purchased his contraband ice cream from in search of some other craving food that he was currently in need of. He was distracted by idle thought and didn't sense the danger until it was too late.

Lately in the area where he lived the youth gang activity had risen. It was only a slight increase but it was noticeable. There were a number of incidences where an unsuspecting pedestrian became the focus of the gang's attention. In some cases the unlucky individual required some form of medical attention but it usually wasn't anything serious. However, as his CAF rep would remind him if he were there, the child within him wasn't his and he should always be on guard.

The first thing he became aware of was the circle of teenagers surrounding him. He looked at them uneasy. The second thing was the taunts. They called him things like 'breeder' and 'freak'. He tried to pass them by but they wouldn't let him go. After a few attempts they began to shove him. Not hard enough to knock him over but enough to make him nervous. He heard their laughter the entire time. It suddenly looked as though they were going to let him go when he felt one of the teens behind him shove hard into his lower back. He overbalanced and fell forward, landing hard on his knees. It surprised him when the top half of him landed on something soft.

'Just what in the hell do you clowns think you're doing?' and angry male voice asked. 'Do any of you have even the slightest clue the consequences of your actions here?' Greg heard murmurs but couldn't make out anything tangible, instead focusing on ignoring the pain shooting through his knees. 'You lot clear out before I decide to call the cops.' It didn't take long for the sound of their sneakers pounding the pavement to fade away. He leaned back to look at his saviour. 'Hey, are you alright?' the man asked.

Greg looked into his green eyes and nodded. 'Yeah, I think so.' He took in the chocolate colour of the man's skin and the chiselled angles of the man's face. He looked like someone who belonged on the streets of Las Vegas. Not in the sense of a gang member or a homeless person, but rather someone who'd been born and raised to understand the deeper functions of the city. Even at first glance it was obvious that the young man who'd come to his rescue was a genuine home-grown Vegas native. 'Thanks,' Greg said as the man helped him back onto his clumsy feet.

'Hey, no problem,' them man waved his hand as if to say his thanks was unnecessary. 'Just doin' what I can.'

'Kinda makes me wish I never left the house,' Greg chuckled and he man grinned.

'What, and miss the chance to meet me?'

Greg grinned back. 'I think I'll just head back home and sleep this off.'

'Would you like me to walk you back?'

'Oh, no. I'll be fine. It's only a couple streets over,' Greg assured. 'But thank you.'

'Like I said, no problem.' The man began to walk away but stopped and turned back. 'I'm Warrick.'

'Greg.' The two shook hands.

'See you 'round, Greg,' Warrick gave a friendly smile.

'You too, Warrick,' Greg nodded and also smiled before the two went on their ways.

-o0o-

Six months had passed and he still thought of it. Every time he closed his eyes he remembered it. He'd been prepared for everything else, but he hadn't been prepared for that.

When he arrived back at his apartment after being saved by the man known only as Warrick he'd felt sharp pains in his lower back. They'd quickly become sharper and made it hard for him to remain standing. Panicked, he'd phoned the number for his doctor. An hour later he was in an ambulance on the way to a hospital. He'd gone into premature labour. The doctor didn't seem worried as he was only three weeks early which, he was told for the first time, was within the normal range that Carriers went into labour – premature labour in Carriers was expected to occur between two and six weeks early. Despite the birthing classes he'd attended he was alarmed at the proceedings.

The pains were irregular and sharp. He sometimes couldn't get his breathing under control and his heart would race. Nothing about it felt right. After seven hours of this confusion the doctor decided that the best thing to do was perform a caesarean section and remove the child before something went seriously wrong.

Trying to temper the anxiety Greg only remembered being brought into an operating room of some kind and having his arms lightly restrained straight out on either side of him. A divider was put up to prevent him from seeing anything the doctor and nurses were doing. He didn't remember feeling any pain but he did remember what he heard. There was a worried tone in the doctor's voice as he barked orders to the nurses around the room. For a while he heard the doctor and nurses rushing about, doing god knows what. Then he heard silence.

It was the longest silence he'd ever heard. Then quite suddenly he heard a coughing sound, followed by a slightly strangled cry. Soon the crying got stronger, and louder. Everyone around sounded happy.

After this the cries of the baby faded from the room and before he knew it Greg was being wheeled into the recovery room. No one explained what had happened. After a couple days he was released from the hospital and soon after he arrived at his apartment a CAF representative delivered a manila envelope. In side the envelope was a check for $5000 in his name and a few documents outlining what was to happen next. There were arraignments being made for him to be transferred to San Francisco in two days. There he would finish the theory portion of his Stanford schooling and obtain a prearranged job.

Curled up on the couch of his San Francisco apartment for the first time, he felt more alone than ever before. He felt cold inside. He idly rested a hand on his slightly deflated stomach and felt nothing more than the ache from the scalpel incision. He didn't think it would hurt him so much. Not the physical aspect of it all but the emotional. He knew somehow that none of it should have surprised him. It wasn't his child, after all. He had no real attachment to it. But he honestly hadn't expected them to just take it away like that, as though he wasn't a factor in the child's existence.

He didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl.

-o0o-

Greg sighed and opened his eyes just as the small bell attached to the top corner of the door chimed to let him know a customer had just entered the shop. It was a small bookshop in San Francisco that offered small selections of a variety of both fictional and non-fictional books. He'd been working as a cashier here since he'd been re-located from Las Vegas. He found he liked his job. It was calm and quiet.

He looked up to find an attractive woman with long, straight brown hair who looked to be a few years older than him. She was dressed in blue jeans and a sky blue tank top. The woman pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head unveiling dark brown eyes.

'Good afternoon,' Greg greeted. 'Welcome to Langham's Book Nook.'

The young woman's smile revealed a bit of a gap between her two front teeth. 'Hi. Could you point me in the direction of the crime and mystery novels?'

'Yep. They're in the second to last section along that far wall. There'll be a big sign with red letters. Can't miss it,' he replied with a smile.

'Thanks.' She headed off in the indicated direction. He watched her disappear behind a bookshelf before turning back to the chemistry textbook that was sitting in front of him. He was reviewing the material he'd need for the practical portions of his Stanford classes, which started in three weeks. 'The influence of viruses on human cells, interesting.'

Greg started and looked up to see the smiling young woman standing in front of him. 'Sorry, didn't hear you coming,' he grinned shyly.

'That's okay,' she said as he rang in her purchases. 'I'm Sara Sidle.'

'Greg Sanders, pleased to meet you,' he replied. 'And that'll be $21.36.'

Sara handed him a couple bills. 'So what university you going to?'

'That would be Stanford,' Greg said and handed her change and receipt over before placing her books into a plastic bag. 'What about you?'

'That would be Berkeley.'

'Cool.'

'Well, I should be heading off. It was nice to meet you, Greg,' Sara said as she took her bag from him.

'It was nice to meet you too, Sara,' Greg flashed a last smile.

- 30 -

End Part I


Chapter released: April 3, 2009
Chapter updated: July 27, 2010