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Sacrifices

AnEvel Story

Rated M for Mature

Pairing: Nick Stokes/Greg Sanders

Warnings Slash, Mpreg, graphic violence, rape/non-con, character death, language, incest, and generally dark themes that are not for the faint of heart. i u If you don't like this, I would suggest that you turn back now

Summary: Nick was born a Normal and had the world handed to him upon his birth. Greg was born a Maternal into a world of Normals trying to kill him because he was born different from what society accepts as normal. In a world divided these two lives will collide teaching one to re-evaluate his beliefs and the other to trust. However prejudice is hard to break. It is hard to make people see past the monster they believe you are to see the human you know you are.

This is a dark fic, it does have some bright spots. This story contains MPreg and other generally dark themes that some people might find objectionable.

Disclaimer I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

NOTES: Please be kind and reply. they mean the world. I promise I won't bite.

Chapter One:

A Dark and Stormy Night

(A recollection of May 2, 1975)

Ryan Sanders's point of view

My story begins on a dark and stormy night down in the outskirts of the town widely considered the wrong side of the tracks. It was in one of the poorest slums in the country at the time. The place stretched on for miles. My life long friend didn't want children. However, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Being a ternny in those days was about the same as being a dog. Only, dogs had more rights than we did. Jon being a legit, he could have anyone he chose to be with, and he chose to sleep with my friend Greg. He tied him up and he boned him hard up the ass. He said he wanted to show him his place in the world, and he did.

It was late when my best friend called me. His voice strained, riddled with the pains of labour. "I'll be right there," I hung up the phone and rushed to the car.

It took me no time at all to get to the decrepit old building where he lived. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. Forget that the place was nearly falling to pieces under my feet. Barging through the door, I saw him lying on the floor by the phone grasping his swollen belly.

"Ryan, it's time," Greg called out to me. I hoisted him up to the bed, and placed him in position to have the baby. Tears rolled from his cheeks. He screamed as another strong contraction took him.

I feared for my friend. It was only seven months ago that Jon raped him. Seven months is not enough time to deliver a baby. The baby's not ready to face this world. The world's not ready to have another ternny join it.

"I'm here," I clutched his hand squeezing it hard. He returned the squeeze with equal pressure.

When he first told me about his condition, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had no idea he was a ternny. That was the night I established where my loyalties lie. I could either never see him again, or I could also have to face the penalties for giving aid and comfort to a known enemy of the nation.

"What should we do?" I asked nervously. I had never delivered a baby before. I don't know the first thing about delivering them.

"Called my dad, he should be here shortly," he answered breath strained as another contraction hit him.

I wished I could help him, but I could do little for him. He screamed again, and I squeezed his hand harder.

"Ryan?" His voice grew faint.

"I'm here," I attempted to comfort him.

"Do you think I'm a freak?"

At one point, I would have called him weird, psychotic, and yes even a freak. However, the more time I spent with him the more I opened my eyes and saw that he was just as human as anyone else in this world.

"No, Greg, you're not a freak," I answered confidently.

His father should've been here an hour ago. Now, I'm afraid he's not going to make it. His face was so pale it was nearly white.

"You've been a great friend, Ryan," his eyes winced in pain. Tears spurted from his eyes, and his breath was ragged. "Take care of him, will ya?"

"You know I will," I assured him.

"Keep him safe, and make sure no one finds out."

I held his hand tight, I dared not let go even for a second. I wasn't going to abandon him, not now, not ever.

His face was ghostly white, something was definitely wrong. For months now he's been weak, I'm surprised he hasn't miscarried. Still, seven months in and he's in labour. There was definitely something wrong. He's gone into labour much too soon.

"No, you will not do that," I cried out. "You will be there with him. You will see him grow up to be big and strong. To have a wife and a child of his own," I urged. "Greg, I can't do this without you," I brushed a stray tear from my face.

"I don't know if I have the strength," he whispered weakly.

"Greg, please, hold tough. Please, for me."

His condition continued to diminish even as I held him in my arms. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

"You've been a good friend," he breathed roughly. "More than anything, take care of him, love him, protect him, and let him know about me."

"Please, Greg. You are going to make it, please don't give up on me."

He can't be dying. He can't be, I won't let him, but even as I plead with God not to take him, his eyes shut. I pulled him close to my body, as his breathing became erratic and then stopped all together. I just held him crying. I knew I couldn't wait too long, as much as I hate it. I still have a promise to fulfill.

Reluctantly, I took a medium-sized hunting knife and placed it against his swollen belly. Tears poured from my eyes. I knew what I had to do, but I just couldn't do it not even to save his son's life. My eyes clinched shut. I brought the knife to his gut, my hand shaking uncontrollably. That was when the door opened.

"I'm here," Greg's father, Mr. Olaf Hojem announced. "Sorry, I'm late. The bounty hunters found me. I think I lost them."

That was the one thing that I did not want to hear. It was worse enough I was witnessing my best friend die in this rough labour. I don't think I could survive the bounties as well. The fear in the old man's face, I knew it was true and he only just lost them. If they followed him here, then they'd know I was giving aid and comfort to an enemy of the state. My life was now forfeit. I am to spend the rest of my life in exile.

He took two steps in and stopped dead in his tracks. There was his son lying dead and me helpless to do anything to remove the baby from his corpse.

"Son, what's going on?" he asked, concern weighed heavy on his voice.

"I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't," I yammered out repeatedly.

His gentle hand covered mine steadying the quivering blade. I leaned into his embrace and just cried.

"It'll be all right son," he comforted me. "Is he born?"

I shook my head 'no'.

"We need to get the baby out of him or his life was for not," Mr. Hojem reasoned.

"I can't do it," I cried.

"You're gonna have to," he stated firmly.

"I don't know how."

Slowly, he took the knife from my hand and placed it against Greg's belly. Steadily, he cut into the delicate skin until he made a deep incision.

"Go ahead," he nodded for me to retrieve the baby boy from within. His body was still so warm and I found the baby without trouble. But I noticed something odd when I reached in. It wasn't just one baby within his womb. There was another.

I pulled the first one from his dead body. He was a beautiful boy, healthy and he cried loudly once his nose was cleared. The second, was smaller, slightly under developed, and was silent. I placed my hand over his chest, and was surprised to feel the faintest of heartbeats.

"We have to get this one to the hospital. He's dying."

"What will you tell them?" Mr. Hojem asked.

"The truth," the other man raised his eyebrow. "His mother died during child birth."

When we got to the hospital, they nearly gave us the third degree about his parentage. They even wanted to take a peak at my stomach to make certain that I did not carry the mark. They were pleased to see that I did not carry the unquestionable mark of my fatherhood and agreed to treat the baby.

The receptionist gave me a whole slew of questionnaires to fill out. I took a seat with Mr. Hojem by my side. 'Mother's name:' I thought on the first question before answering: 'Virginia Hojem'. I looked over to Mr. Hojem and he looked appreciative of the name I have given his son. 'Father's name: Ryan Sanders', I wrote down, again with an approving nod from Mr. Hojem. 'Child's name:' This one I really had to think about what I called him.

"Well?" Mr. Hojem asked.

So, I wrote down the only name I could think of for this little boy, 'Gregory Hojem Sanders'.

"I like it," proclaimed Mr. Hojem.

"Really? You don't mind that I gave my own last name?"

"You had to. You listed yourself as the father. It was very noble of you to name the boy after my son," he smiled and ruffled my hair.

"What do I do with them?"

"Give me the healthy one, and I will drop him off at the orphanage." I turned to him sharply not wanting to give up either of these boys.

"But…" I tried to protest.

"It will be for the best. No one has to know his parentage. The boy will be free to go to school outside the restrictions the government must place upon him. Don't you see… it's for the best that we hand him over anonymously."

I know it was the best I could hope for with the stronger one. Maybe this way he will have a normal life. The life I know that won't befall, little Gregory Hojem Sanders. I haven't the heart to give him up.

I nod to Mr. Hojem and he left the room.

Hours passed and there was no word on the little boy my friend delivered. I could cut the tension with a knife. Then, the nurse reappeared some time later. "Are you the boy's father?" I nodded in response. "Please, come with me."

I may not be this child's father, but I might as well be. The boy has no one else. I could always hand the boy over to his true father, but I would die before I'd let such an innocent sweet boy go to a person like Jon.

The nurse took me back through the double doors, down the narrow corridor. The place was well-lit but completely absent of any colour save white. Of course, that is only if you consider white to be a colour.

"Just in here," the nurse guided me to the room. Incubators lined the room and at the far corner there sat one with the name, Gregory Hojem Sanders. I approached the tiny bed to see the baby, pale white connected to just about every device a person can be connected to. It broke my heart to see this baby boy this way. At this moment, I knew that I wouldn't be handing him over. He would live with me. I know it wouldn't be much of a life. If it is true and the bounty hunters really are after me.

The baby was precious, innocent by all means. It is hard to believe or even to imagine that an act of cruelty created him. I still remember that day. Greg came to me with tears rolling down his face. He did not know what to do or even how to have this baby. From that day on I took him under my wing, I made it a point to learn everything I could about maternal male births.

Now, the face of innocence lies before my eyes and I can see his purpose in life. It will be I who keeps him save, to hold his hand to teach him right from wrong and about his father, the man who brought him into this world. I will make sure he knows about his brother, the one he would never remember. I must lead him through this life. It is my duty to Gregory Hojem and my honour.

I could have gazed upon that boy for hours. However, my time with him was short. There was much to be done and a short time to get there. The bounties were after us, and I was his only line of protection.

To Be Continued...