A/N: Hi! Oh, don't worry, I'll keep it short. This is a collaborative work between me and my dear friend Bronwyn aka Mousey Senpai, so follow her as well! I have to admit, this is rather refreshing. My last long fanfiction was One Last Party. Now I venture into Homestuck... Will wonders never cease?

We're proud to bring you this story of two young lovers and their child, who can only be described as a miracle.

"Dave, you forgot to take out the trash."

"I'm getting to it, Gamzee!"

Gamzee sighed loudly. They had gotten married a little less than six months before and already they were arguing like two old hags in the senior bingo room. At the core of their relationship, they loved each other, but things had been so rocky with Dave lately… Gamzee was beginning to feel exasperated, like he was drowning in his own life. Was this what being a Strider was all about? He had no way of knowing: after all, he had never met his in-laws, though he only had two. He had not a single clue where Dirk was, and Dave's Bro was a famous musician who rarely visited his Texas hometown.

Their brand new house felt so empty. Gamzee hadn't held back when they went house and car shopping after the wedding; his father left all in his will to his two boys, and Kurloz was in jail, so it wasn't like he was going to be using it anytime soon. Not like either of them were going to college anyway, Gamzee figured. So after packing his older brother's grotesque collection of personal possessions and selling the house, they found a country-style building on the edges of town that was approximately the size of Nikki Minaj's ass. In other words: frighteningly large, especially to small children. It was nominated for World's Scariest Place twice, actually. (Her ass, not the house.)

Despite everything, Gamzee was positive that he and Dave could get past this argumentative phase. He guessed it was something all newlyweds went through, like marriage puberty or something like that. His emerald eyes stared at the overflowing trash bin in the corner of their kitchen. Dave was too busy doing, well, whatever the fuck he was doing. So, with a loud, dramatic sigh (which his husband snorted at from across the house,) he took hold of the bag and knotted it. Some things in life you just have to do yourself, it seems.

The frigid winter air smacked him in the face as he opened the door and tossed the bag into the trash can. God, that smelled awful. It was like something had died in there, and if Gamzee really thought about it, something probably did die nearby. He stepped off of the creaky wooden porch and on to the frozen ground. It had barely frosted over, and whatever snow the sky had dropped off during last night's storm had already melted. Behind the trash bin was a corpse.

Not a human corpse, no. God no, although that had happened before in his old home, when he lived with Kurloz. Some poor guy had OD'd in their backyard. That was what it smelled like now. It was fairly recent - it could have died last night, and probably had, since Gamzee hadn't noticed till now - and looked like a raccoon. It was fairly large and sprawled out at a queer angle, with dried blood in the grey fur of its neck. Its neck had been snapped in the typical 'Death Bite' used by most wild animals. He was going to guess a fox had killed it.

Gamzee would have went back inside, but he stopped himself. There were two pairs of paws sticking out underneath the dead raccoon. He poked the corpse with a stick to roll it over and found two tiny raccoons underneath. They had died the same way their mother/father died, scarring the ground with their crimson blood, necks twisted rather painfully. The parent raccoon's effort to save them had been in vain. It would be sad if raccoons weren't such pestilent creatures.

Gamzee sighed softly. He would have buried the small family or at least cleaned them up, but he didn't want to risk getting rabies or a similar illness from the dead animals. He made a mental note to come back out later with some gardening gloves or at least a bin bag to remove them.

Speaking of families, Gamzee had been feeling particularly maternal as of late. He wasn't sure what it was, but something inside Gamzee made him feel all mixed up, like a melting pot of emotions - too hot to touch. Sometimes he was happy and cheerful, but quickly became annoyed, angry or extremely sad. But through all those mixed up and crazy feelings, inside he felt warm and gentle. He had a need to look after things recently. If those baby raccoons were alive, he would've taken them in and looked after them like they were his own kids…

Although Dave would've probably found that extremely strange.

And who could blame him? He had also noticed Gamzee's odd behaviour. He wondered if it was because of the rough patch or their recent marriage. Either way, he didn't understand what was going on at all and planned on speaking to his husband about it. When would be the best time to bring it up, though? He had been so sensitive lately...

Gamzee stepped back inside their house, shutting the door behind him. He saw Dave and frowned slightly, which contrasted with his rather clowny face paint.

"I took out the motherfucking trash, since you're all up and unable to do it," he said, a little too sternly. Dave sighed. Always with the arguing and the nagging.

"I was about to take out the trash. You need to chill about these things, they'll get done eventually," the blonde said in a casual tone, his eyes masking the obvious passive aggression.

"Whatever," Dave's husband replied, rolling the emeralds in his eye sockets. He was in one of his more annoyed moods at the moment, but that was quick to change. Gamzee found himself hugging his partner and kissing his cheek, anger temporarily forgotten, until there was a flash of pain in his stomach area. Motherfucker. He bit his lip, but couldn't hide the quiet squeal of discomfort.

"You okay, Gamzee?" Dave asked, confused by the sudden change of heart and worried by the sudden pain his husband seemed to be in. Gamzee nodded, smiling weakly at Dave.

"F-fine." He winced yet again. Shit. Gamzee drew in a long breath and coaxed a smile back on his face.

"I need to go to the bathroom real quick," he muttered, and walked towards the bathroom while clutching his abdomen. Dave frowned, feeling concerned. He walked to the bathroom door and stood there, not quite wanting to go in but wanting to know what was wrong with his beloved.

Gamzee pulled out of the hidden cupboard (his personal unit; yes, he needed one, especially on days where he wanted to surprise Dave in bed) a box labeled "Pregnancy Test." The subtitle claimed that it was accurate 99.96% of the time. How reassuring, Gamzee thought sarcastically. He didn't need it to see if he was actually pregnant, because that would be impossible, wouldn't it?

There's no way I can be pregnant, I'm a guy. Guys don't get all up and motherfucking knocked up, he thought to himself, preparing the test. Yet his older sister Meulin's words rang in his ears. He had talked to her about his recent 'symptoms', and she had warned him… Never mind what she says. After Gamzee had done what he needed to do, he set the test down next to the sink and began staring at it, waiting for the result. A few minutes passed by.

Gamzee gave a heavy sigh. He was tired of waiting for the result. He wanted to scream at the test to tell it to hurry up, but he knew that would do nothing except concern Dave even more. Gamzee closed his eyes, resting his head against the sink. He looked up again after a moment and saw that the little screen had turned pink.

A loud gasp escaped his mouth. His eyes were wide with awe. It wasn't possible. It wasn't fucking possible. Yet somehow, by some technological mistake or by God missing something in his genes - hey, maybe he was dreaming? - he was pregnant. Entirely pregnant. And god be damned if he didn't just feel a tiny kick inside his stomach.