Rock a bye baby
Summary: In which Roger has a panic attack and Maurice is stumped.
Warning(s): Feelings.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies
A/N: SURPRISE, ITS ANOTHER STORY INSTEAD OF AN UPDATE AHAHAHAHAHAH. I'm sorry, I will write them, I promise.
It was five o' clock in the morning and Roger was in deep shit. Stormy green eyes were open wide, staring listlessly at the door across from him, one arm resting on the rim of the toilet seat, the other draped uselessly over his mid section. He'd been sick for weeks, tossing up his meals almost faster than he could eat them, and everything was sore. His head ached and he was always exhausted and moody - moodier than usual - and he'd been snapping at Maurice, who was growing more and more concerned as the days passed. Roger had chucked all of this up to a bad stomach bug and was content to simply believe it, right up until he found himself, mid hurl, desperately wanting a large, salmon sandwich with pickles and ketchup. Roger hated salmon.
He'd thought and thought about it, done research for a couple days, and denied it heavily, but… After waking up at some ungodly hour to go and toss his cookies, yet again, Roger couldn't take it any more. He was going to have to accept it, whether he liked it or not. He was pregnant. Not even bothering with the how or why, he was just consumed with the thoughts of how badly this could, and likely would, go over. He wasn't good with children, he was never meant to be around children, even when he was a kid! What was he even supposed to do? What could he tell Maurice? Would he even believe him if he did? Brows furrowing, Roger swallowed hard and lifted a hand to cover his mouth as tears welled in his eyes, gaze still locked on the door.
What if he left him?
It was roughly an hour before Maurice began to stir, waking to find the bed vacant on Roger's side, as was commonplace these days. He sighed heavily and shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face slowly as he sat up and rolled out of the bed, stretching a little as he walked over to the bathroom, groggily running a hand through his hair. He was still too sleepy to remember manners such as knocking, and simply stepped in to the massive panic attack that Roger was currently suffering. The sight of Roger curled over, hands tugging lightly at his thick, dark curls, rocking back and forth slowly as he muttered to himself incoherently was enough to sober any situation, and Maurice was at his side in an instant. He was gentle as he whispered to him, lifting his hands to tenderly grasp Roger's, lowering them so that he could hold the trembling appendages in his own hands, thumbs rubbing slow circles across the skin. He was careful as he leaned in, whispering sweet nothings as he pressed their foreheads together, soft grey eyes seeking out Roger's green. Gradually, the rocking slowed until they sat still again, Maurice kissing his hands gently as a reward. He tentatively wrapped one arm and then the other around him, smiling as he felt Roger slowly shift to return the hug and slump heavily against him.
"I want a baby." Roger said one morning, several weeks later. He had effectively disrupted whatever thoughts Maurice had been entertaining, as well as the entire flow of the morning and likely the remaining day. "You hate children." Maurice said matter-of-factly, looking up at Roger from across the kitchen table, a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "You always have." he continued, confusion slowly coloring his expression as he watched Roger determinedly avoid his gaze. He didn't hate them, he just wash't fond of them, besides, this was different! "It's hardly a crime to want a baby." Roger muttered, fidgeting with the sleeve of the overly large sweater he was wearing. Maurice, who was always the more collected of the two, eyed him warily before sighing and resting his arms atop the table before folding his hands together neatly. "Alright," he said gently, deciding to throw him a bone. "Why do you want a baby?"
Roger looked away, curling his arms loosely around his midsection, falling silent for a long moment. It wasn't as if he would be able to keep it a secret from him for very long… There was even already a little bit of a bump starting to form and Roger had never been more terrified in his life. He stared listlessly at the chair beside him, brows furrowed as he frowned, the silence dragging on as Maurice's question hung in the air like a thick fog. "Roger?" Maurice asked after a moment, getting up to go and sit in the chair beside him as the silence lingered still. He reached up a hand and touched his cheek gently, startling as Roger's head snapped up, wide eyed and frightened as he blurted, "I'm pregnant."
It wasn't often that Roger caught Maurice completely by surprise, as he was very, very accustomed to all of the strange things that he said and did, but this was one thing that he just did not have a response for. "Pardon?" he asked after a moment, swallowing thickly as he let his hand fall back into his lap, trying to shake off the complete and utter shock at what the other had just said. Pregnant? "Roger, darling, I'm not sure you understand quite how that whole thing works." he said, though his words lacked conviction, his tone purely confused. He hadn't been feeling too well lately… Maybe he just felt that way? "I know how it works, you pillock." Roger snapped, scowling. "I'm sick at ungodly hours, I'm irritable-" he said, to which Maurice snorted and Roger shot him a look. "More irritable," he hissed. "And…"
"And?" Maurice prompted, watching him warily, tone slightly skeptical. He really was convinced that he was pregnant… What on earth could have brought it on, though? It was true, he had been sick as a dog as of late but irritability went with illness hand in hand, particularly when it involved Roger. Roger shut his eyes tight and curled up a little in the chair, arms wrapping around his belly protectively. He didn't believe him… He wouldn't believe him. Swallowing thickly, Roger opened his eyes, staring strait down at the floor as he tried to brace himself, praying to whatever deity that was willing to listen that Maurice wouldn't leave him. He hadn't wanted this…
"And the tests came back positive." he said, voice barely above a whisper. The statement was followed by a pregnant pause, in which neither of them moved an inch or even thought to say anything else. Finally, however, Maurice sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was really bent on running this thing into the ground, wasn't he? "I have to go." he said rubbing a hand over his face as he shook his head. The expression that Roger wore as his head shot up, staring straight at him was something Maurice had never thought he'd ever see from him in a million years. He looked angry, firstly, confused, hurt, indignant, miserable… But most of all, heartbroken. "I have work until late." he sighed, holding a hand up to silence whatever protest that had been forthcoming. "I won't be back before eleven-thirty, at least." he said, letting his hand fall back in his lap as he looked away.
That was all that was said for the rest of the morning, Maurice just silently trying to decide whether or not to believe Roger, and the latter just wanting to crawl into a hole and die. Why him? He hadn't even wanted a baby… Right? Maurice had stirred after a while, going to finish getting ready for work, slipping back into the kitchen to kiss Roger good bye, but his affection fell short as Roger turned his head away. "Roger…" Maurice sighed, bringing a hand up to touch his cheek. "Go." Roger snapped, shying away from his touch again. Protectively, he curled his arms around himself, shooting a razor sharp glare at Maurice every time he tried to come closer for a good five minutes until Maurice finally gave up and headed out to work. The soft click of the door sounded, signifying that, for several hours Roger would be left by his lonesome to make wild assumptions and have several arguments with Maurice in his head, but that would come later, Roger decided. Presently, he would have to deal with his own gross sobbing and he hated himself for it, but he wanted Maurice to come back, to hold him and rub his back and whisper stupid little things to him… But he wouldn't. Maybe he wouldn't do any of that ever again. "Its gonna just be you and me…"
A/N: That's all for now, leave me a review and lemmie know what you thought?