Snake sat on the metal table with a deep scowl etched into his expression. He loathed hospitals and this was the worst, a fertility clinic. It was everything he hated plus his fears all in one convenient place. This was hell and it was taking forever. It couldn't take that long to go and get charts from his previous tests.
Plissken sighed and twisted his wedding band. He put aside all of his fears for her. Even if he hadn't told her he was coming or about his previous visit. It was all coming to this. The moment when that doctor walked back in was like judgment day. His hopes for the future hung by the answer he was waiting for.
A heavy sigh and he heard the door opening. Plissken felt his heart stop from fear. He wasn't afraid of anything, not guns, not prison, not death but this was different. Snake wanted to flee from the doctor walking toward him. The only thing that forced him to hold his ground was the band of gold under his fingers.
"Well Mr. Plissken I've got some good news and some bad." The doctor spoke as he pulled up the wheeled stool. It squeaked on the old linoleum and Plissken almost broke from pressure. Keeping focused he stared at the doctor before giving a curt nod.
"As things are, children are going to be difficult if not impossible." He paused looking over the charts. "With your history I suspect some of it is due to your severe drug addictions."
"I know." Snake answered before looking away at the walls. How many diagrams of penises did they need?
"Have you ever thought of quitting?" The young doctor kept his voice quiet and even.
"I've tried." Snake looked down at his wedding ring. How many times had he failed at kicking the cocaine, 7...? 8 times or more in just three years. It seemed hopeless now when he thought about it.
"I can get you in to see a drug counselor if you want."
Snake understood that the man was trying to help and just offering suggestions. He tried to remember that when he spoke. "I don't like doctors."
He heard the charts rustling but didn't look over. "Have you thought about artificial insemination from a sperm donor?"
Snake came around glaring. He was a hair's breadth from strangling the doctor. He could see in the man's expression that he realized that was the wrong thing to say.
"It was just a suggestion."
Snake tried to relax but the thought that statement had put in his mind short circuited his anger management. The idea alone that he couldn't have children with his wife and some other man, even disconnected as it was, could was grounds for murder.
"Why don't we start small?" Fear boiled from the doctor's words. "The painkillers you're on can cause reduced sperm count. I can write a script for something less detrimental."
Snake's teeth were so clenched that he couldn't respond. He did nod his agreement with the idea.
"After two weeks we can do another test and assess the changes." The doctor was making notes on Plissken's chart when Snake finally stared him down.
"If you ever say that bullshit again, I'll kill you." His voice was a low growl.
The doctor's eyes shot up and then drifted down to the guns Snake had worn into his office. He hesitated before replying to Snake. "We can find a way to make you the father. It might take work from both of us."
Snake didn't relax but the death glare subsided.
"In the mean time look into controlling your drug use."
Snake nodded and stood taking the script from the doctor.
"The receptionist will arrange your next appointment."
Snake didn't answer. He just walked out in a foul, nasty mood that was going to take a miracle to put aside. Why any man would suggest that to another was beyond Snake. He would have rather heard about more explosives than that.