A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!
Ch. 21.

The next few weeks were calm. Sweeney and Anthony followed their daily routine. They'd hit three months pregnant and soon started noticing the changes in their bodies. The changes were slight and others probably would not notice any difference, but both men saw that their stomachs were not quite as flat.

On this particular morning, a month and a half after their exams, Sweeney and Anthony were quietly reading. A loud scream from the first floor interrupted their silence.

"What was that?" Anthony asked, putting his book down.

"Sounded like Ichabod."

There was another cry, followed by two steps of footsteps.

"Why's he screaming?"

"How the hell should I know?" Sweeney snapped.

Anthony looked a bit hurt at the way he'd said it, and Sweeney apologized. Lately he'd been feeling extremely moody. And while Anthony's morning sickness had gotten somewhat better, his had gotten somewhat worse. It was a fight for him to keep every meal down.

"Should we go check on him?" Anthony queried after a third cry was heard.

"I think we have to," Sweeney replied. "We just can't let them see us."

Anthony nodded in agreement. The two slipped out of bed and began to quietly walk up the stairs.

They stopped outside the door to the first floor, only about ten feet or so from the entrance to Ichabod's room. Both could hear that there was a lot going on in there. Ichabod was yelling and the two doctors were talking at each other in German.

Ichabod had stopped screaming and had started actually crying now, and it seemed to be grating on the doctors. At least, it was to Frederik, because a second after Ichabod started sobbing, he ordered Ada to "make him shut up."

Ichabod stopped crying after that. Or they'd made him stop. Either way, it got a lot quieter.

"Stay here," Sweeney said. "I'm going to go look."

Anthony frowned, but agreed. He watched as Sweeney slowly crept over to the room and glanced inside. It was only a second later that he turned around, looking several shades paler, and began walking back towards Anthony.

"We have to go."

"Why?"

"Just… I'll explain when we're back."

So the two went back downstairs towards their beds.

"What happened? What'd you see?" Anthony asked, once they were sitting.

"He was in labor."

"Oh. But… it's a bit premature, isn't it? I thought he was only eight months along."

"It is. He was in a lot of pain. There was a lot of blood."

"Oh." Anthony wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I hope he's alright," He finally whispered. "We should go check on him later."

"Yes. Yes we should."

00

The commotion upstairs finally died down around eight that evening, a full ten hours after it'd started. Ichabod must've had a slow and painful labor, but all was silent now.

Ada had appeared an hour earlier, covered in blood, but bearing food for the two men. Neither could eat it, knowing that their friend was either dead, injured, or very sick upstairs. Sweeney especially couldn't find it in himself. The sight of Ichabod, lying on the bed, legs spread and covered with blood and screaming, came to him every time he closed his eyes.

Sweeney put the food off to the side, intending to find a place to dispose of it later. He motioned for Anthony to get up.

Again, they made the trip upstairs.

"It's so quiet," Anthony whispered.

"Too quiet, almost."

"Do you think he's…" Anthony started, but trailed off, not wanting to finish his own question.

"Dead? I don't know. We'll have to see."

The door to Ichabod's room was shut tightly, so Sweeney opened it slowly, trying his best not to make any noise. He took a deep breath as he slipped inside the room, Anthony right behind him.

To their relief, Ichabod was still on the bed, and apparently awake. Even the blood that Sweeney had seen previously had been cleaned up. He had a strange, dazed look on his face that he got when he'd been drugged before.

"Mr. Todd…" Ichabod whispered, looking at Sweeney, then Anthony.

"We came to see if you were all right."

Ichabod shook his head. "I'm okay. Nothing much different than from the previous times."

"I see. And… the children?"

Ichabod looked very sad. "I don't think they made it. Ada wouldn't tell me but… I don't think so."

"I'm sorry," Anthony offered. Sweeney offered similar condolences.

"I guess I thought that because they'd lived so long as they had, that maybe there was a chance," Ichabod continued. "But I'm not as strong, and they came early. I should not have felt any attachment. It's my fault for feeling it. I… I… I couldn't help it, though. Do you understand?" Ichabod looked like he was about to cry again.

"I understand," Anthony answered. He also felt something towards the being growing inside of him. Even if he hadn't actually wanted it or planned it.

Sweeney, however, did not seem to feel the same. He did nod his head, though. He then busied himself looking for a handkerchief for Ichabod. When he finally found one, folded up on a dresser, he handed it over. Ichabod took it gratefully and blew his nose and wiped his eyes.

"It'll just happen again," Ichabod said, more to himself than the others. "I have to learn to not get upset."

It was then that Sweeney realized that he had to get them all out soon. He couldn't let Ichabod go through the same thing again, nor could he allow himself or Anthony to remain there and suffer.

"We'll be out soon," He said confidently. "I promise."