A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this. Go check out her page, she's an awesome author!

Chapter 2

After dinner, Dr. Schnabel asked Edward to come to his office. Everyone had been given exams to assess how far along they were and how healthy they were. Edward had been the only one who had yet to receive an exam.

The first thing that Dr. Schnabel did was offer Edward a new set of clothes, as the leather suit he was wearing probably wouldn't hold up too well as he progressed in his pregnancy. It was a simple pair of black sweatpants and a black and red tee-shirt. They were something that would've been easy for most people to get on, but for Edward, it would've taken a tremendous effort. Noting this, the doctor quietly offered to help the young man get undressed and to put on the new clothes.

Dr. Schnabel undid the buckles on Edward's suit, eventually finding a zipper hidden in the back. He pulled the suit down, to reveal Edward's pale, scarred body. Had it not been for the scars, his body would've been almost perfect. The only other thing that threw it off a bit was that he was starting to show. Not much, but enough that his belly stuck out a little. It seemed kind of awkward considering how thin the rest of him was.

Edward stood there very quietly as Dr. Schnabel helped him, only moving when necessary. For his part, the doctor tried to remain as professional as possible, not wanting to make Edward feel awkward.

When he was finally dressed in his new clothes, the doctor led him over to the exam table.

"I need to take your blood pressure, pulse, height, weight, and then we're going to do an ultrasound," He explained.

Edward nodded, but said nothing.

"Please hold out your arm for me."

Edward did as instructed, and the doctor took his blood pressure. It was a perfect 110 over 70. Edward's pulse was good, too, at 50 beats per minute.

"You have a very strong heart," The doctor said, writing his findings down. "Your blood pressure and pulse rate are excellent."

"My father designed me to be healthy," Edward said, very quietly.

"Well… he did a good job. Over to the scale, please," The doctor said, motioning towards the corner of the room.

Edward got off the table and shuffled over, staring at the scale and all of the numbers and buttons on it curiously.

"Just… stand on that," Dr. Schnabel directed.

Edward got up on it, watching as the numbers jumped around. Dr. Schnabel was busy trying to measure his height while this happened.

"Looks like you're 5'10 and 140… but I'm going to take off five pounds because of your… hands."

"Okay."

"Last thing is the ultrasound. Can you get back on the table, for me? Lay down and… well, I'll help you with your shirt," The doctor said.

Edward climbed back up onto the table and lay down, not protesting as the doctor pulled his shirt up to expose his stomach.

"This will be a little bit cold," Schnabel told him as he began to rub the ultrasound gel on his patient. Edward didn't even flinch, just kind of stared into space as Schnabel prepped him.

"So you've been having symptoms for how long, now?" The doctor asked, as he moved the ultrasound wand around.

"About a month."

The doctor nodded. He stopped moving the wand a second later, and began looking over the image on the ultrasound machine.

"Well… you're definitely pregnant," He said. "And it looks like you're about a month and a half along."

"Okay."

"And… it looks like you're having twins."

That caused a reaction. Dr. Schnabel hadn't thought that Edward could get any paler than he was, but he did.

"T-twins?" He asked, eyes wide as he stared at the doctor.

"Yes. Here, you can see…" The doctor turned the machine so that Edward could see the images on it.

Edward didn't make a sound, and Dr. Schnabel realized that he wasn't breathing.

"Edward! Breathe!" He admonished, causing the boy to look at him.

Edward took a deep breath.

"There's two of them…"

"Yes."

"So I'll have to take care of two babies…" He trailed off.

"Yes."

"I need to go," Edward said, pushing the doctor's hand away from him. He sat up, and pulled his shirt down the best he could.

"Alright…" The doctor said, watching as Edward shuffled out of the office as quickly as possible. He followed Edward into the hallway, noticing that the young man walked directly into the nearest bathroom. A second later, he could hear Edward retching loudly. Seeing as it was eight o'clock at night, the doctor figured that nerves were making the poor boy sick more than anything else.

00

Later that evening, after everyone had retired to bed, Jack Sparrow still lay awake. Edward was awake, too, and seemed to be quietly sobbing on the bed next to Jack's, and it was driving him nuts. He tried everything he could think of to block out the sniffling and moaning, but nothing was working. It was getting to be unbearable.

Finally, sometime around 2 in the morning, Jack had enough. He got up, walked to Edward's bed, and shook the young man violently.

"GET UP." He demanded.

Edward turned to him, tears still running down his face.

"If you're not going to shut up, then you should go sleep on the couch." Jack pointed at the door.

Edward said nothing, just sniffed and got up and left.

00

Edward walked into the common room to find Ichabod already there, watching reruns of The Big Bang theory. Hearing footsteps, Ichabod looked up and noticed that Edward was crying.

"Are you okay?" He asked, standing up. He got to Edward's side and guided the young man to the sofa. "What's wrong?"

Edward sniffed. "Nothing… don't worry about it."

"Well it has to be something if you're out here at 2 am."

Edward just shook his head, tears still running silently down his face.

"I was going to get some chamomile tea, to relax. Would you like some?" Ichabod offered.

"Please," Edward whispered.

Ichabod nodded and got back up, making his way to the kitchen.

Apparently he and Edward were not the only people having trouble sleeping, because Mort was already there, poking through the fridge.

"Hey." Mort greeted him, pulling out some leftover chicken, some Tabasco sauce and a bottle of chocolate sauce.

Ichabod stared at Mort, then at the combination of food that he had. "You're going to eat that? Together?"

Mort shrugged. "Uncontrollable cravings. What can I tell you? Do you know if we have any nacho chips?"

"Er… I think there's a bag in the pantry."

"Cool. Thanks." Mort began rifling through the pantry as Ichabod started on the tea. He couldn't help but stare as Mort picked apart various pieces of chicken and put them on a plate of nachos, and then covered the whole thing with the Tabasco sauce and chocolate sauce. It took all of his willpower to keep from saying "ew".

Mort seemed to be caught up in his own little world of weird food, so at least he didn't notice Ichabod.

"Smell ya later," Mort said, taking his plate of food and heading out of the kitchen.

Ichabod just raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Soon enough the tea was done, and he poured it into two mugs, then brought it back into the common room. By the point, Edward was a little calmer. At least he'd stopped crying.

"Feeling better?" Ichabod asked, putting his own cup of tea down. He instinctively went to hand the other mug to Edward, then realized that the boy would've been unable to hold it.

"A little," Edward replied, staring down at his own hands.

"I brought you tea… I... Well I guess you can't drink it on your own, so, uh, here." Ichabod placed the mug against Edward's lips, letting him take a few sips of the hot liquid. It seemed to relax him a bit, at least. The two sat there silently, as Ichabod took turns giving Edward tea and drinking his own.

When they were finished, the constable spoke up again.

"Do you want to talk about what was bothering you?" he asked.

Edward shrugged. "I'm scared," He whispered, the look of sadness once again returning to his features.

"Of being a father?"

"Of having two babies to take care of. I couldn't take care of one, never mind two. Not with…" he trailed off, lifting his hands a little to show Ichabod.

"Well. It'll be hard, but I'm sure you can find a way to do it. A lot of people have… disabilities… and they are able to overcome them and lead mostly normal lives."

"How am I going to change their clothes or their diapers or feed them with no hands?" Edward snapped. He was tired of hearing people give him the same old speech about overcoming adversity and all that crap. The truth was that he would never be able to function normally unless he magically woke up with actual hands one day.

"I.. don't know what to say," Ichabod finally confessed, "I didn't mean to make you upset. Maybe Dr. Schnabel will let you stay here with him and he can help you."

Edward's expression softened a little, and he didn't seem angry any more. "It's alright. I'll ask him. But I'm already a burden. I was a burden on the Boggs and I'll be a burden here with the doctor if I stay."

"You're not a burden," Ichabod replied.

Edward stared at Ichabod, as if to say, "you're really going to suggest that?"

"What exactly can I do besides provide extra scissors and cut the plants outside?"

"You're a good person, a loving person, and that alone is valuable. A lot of people are bad or angry or hurtful, and you're none of that. You're rare because of it."

"I guess that's fair," Edward said, "It's just… hard."

"I'm sorry," Ichabod said, frowning.

Edward then yawned. Ichabod realized that he was probably very tired.

"Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Yeah. Maybe Jack's asleep by now."

"Why does that matter?"

Edward shook his head, "Don't worry about it." He stood up. "Thanks for everything, Ichabod. Have a good night."

"You too," Ichabod called after him. He still wasn't tired, so a few more episodes of Big Bang Theory sounded good.