Hey lovies! So, this is something that I've been wanting to write for a while. It gets super angsty because I love Mystrade angst, and my best friend said that the only way she would read a Mystrade fic is if it isn't happy for Mycroft. This is a 5 part series: You'll get a new installation every day for the next five days. R&R!
"Are you sure you want to try again, Myc? We could always just look into adoption. I'm sure that you could pull a few strings to get us listed as top preference."
"Gregory, I'm sure. We have a different donor this time around, and Lindsey's been more than marvelous. She's been here for us, and is willing to try again. She was just as devastated as we were last time."
The D.I. and his husband sat facing each other at their kitchen island. Breakfast was in front of them, and they were having the same conversation that they'd had dozens of times before. For the past two and a half years of their six year marriage, the couple had been trying to get pregnant. They'd used the same gestational carrier, Lindsey, a twenty-seven year old single mother of one.
Over the past two and a half years, she and her daughter Zoe had spent countless hours with the couple. Zoe, now four, had grown on them immensely, and they adored her. They would often joke that they were getting "parent training" from interacting with her.
Over the course of that time, the two men had had three failed pregnancies: twice the embryos failed to stick, and the third ended in a miscarriage three and a half weeks in. Lindsey blamed herself, but doctors assured them that there wasn't anything wrong with Lindsey or the sperms, but in the egg donors. They'd used a different donor each time, and were ready to give up when Anthea offered. Mycroft originally declined, saying that it would be inappropriate seeing as she was his employee. She persisted however, assuring him that she had made several donations in the past, each one resulting in a successful pregnancy.
"I just-I just don't want to have to go through that again," Greg said softly, looking down at his coffee.
Mycroft reached out across the marble counter and took his partner's hand in his. "I know, love," he said gently. "Nor do I. But I've spoken with the families Anthea for, and they've all had nothing but success. All of the pregnancies went according to plan, and they all have healthy, beautiful children. I think that we've finally found a match."
Greg sat back in his chair, and looked down, his eyes unfocused on the table. He sat like that for a minute, deep in thought. Finally, ruffling his hair as he spoke, he responded with an "Aright."
Getting up and bringing both plates to the sink, he paused. He put his hands on the edge of the sink, and hunched over it, his head bowed. When his shoulders started to shake, Mycroft took his cue to go over to him. The Holmes put his hand on the D.I.'s shoulder, who then turned to him. Wrapping his arms around his husband, Mycroft pulled Greg in and held him tight. He stroked Greg's back with one hand, the other his head in an attempt to comfort him.
"Sh, it's alright, love," he soothed. "I promise this time will be different."
The silver haired man finally stopped after another minute of sobbing, and his voice came out hoarse and ragged. "Myc, if this time doesn't work, I can't do it anymore. If we-if we lose the baby again, we have to stop trying."
Mycroft closed his eyes, a lump rising in his throat, knowing that the other man was right, but not wanting him to be. "I know, love. I know," he whispered.
(One month later)
Zoe was starting to get restless when Mycroft and Greg entered the room. She ran up to the D.I., who scooped her up and rested her on his hip.
"Hey, sorry we're late. The British Government over here got stuck in a meeting," he greeted Lindsey with. She smiled, with a "He was probably preventing some sort of international crisis," and both men pecked her on the cheek.
"And how are you, Zoe," he asked the little girl. The toddler giggled.
"Good Greggy," she responded. Zoe was the spitting image of her mother: Olive skinned, dirty blonde hair, and sparkling green eyes.
There was a knock on the door, and their OBGYN, Tabitha, entered. "Are you folks ready," she opened with. Greg put Zoe down in one of the chairs, and joined his husband's side next to Lindsey. When they'd first entered, she'd already been sitting on the exam table, propped up on her elbows; she now laid all the way back.
Tabitha squirted some of the USTG onto Lindsey's stomach, and gently rolled the probe around on it.
The four adults stared at the sonogram machine in anticipation. After slowly moving the probe all over, Tabitha brought the probe back over to a certain spot on the carrier's stomach, and let it stay there. A smile broke out onto her face as she pointed to the screen.
"That, gentlemen, right there, that is your baby girl."
Lindsey beamed at them, and Greg let out the breath he'd been holding. He laid his head on Mycroft's shoulder, and the latter gently rested his head on Greg's.
"Finally," the D.I. whispered.
Well, there ya'll go: The first installment. Keep tuned for tomorrow's installment! R&R!