A/N: My 13 weeks of hell (read: insane uni semester) are nearly over, so hopefully I'll be back to posting more regularly again.
Here's a quick note on ARD: Acute Retinal Dystrophy is the fictional condition that Knight has that causes his eyes to be too sensitive for natural light. I've spent most of the afternoon wondering how on earth it would work genetically given that neither of Knights parents have it and Beth doesn't either. Now my understanding of genetics is probably at the level of an interested observer - I know a bit but not enough for anything serious - and I can work out that I've created an impossibility here. If this baby has it, then there's no way that Beth could have escaped it. But that said, this is an mpreg story so I really doubt there's anyone reading it who cannot stand the bending of the rules of biology. But seeing as I spent the better part of the afternoon working that out, I thought I'd tell you anyway and prove I'm not an idiot.
Also, I realised I've been writing this now for nearly two years. That's crazy! I'm really hoping it will not see (too much) of a third. I really cannot thank the people who are still reading it enough, I know I never would have had the patience to wait this long. My eternal gratitude is yours. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know because I owe you guys big time.
And an especially big thank you to ibegtodreamanddiffer, who picked up a major typo in the last chapter. In the last line, it should be HAS, not HAD. I swear I didn't kill the baby, I'm not that evil (I think).
Chapter 28 - 27 weeks
"Come on," Schofield muttered to himself, yanking harder on the small silver zip, "Just a little further."
The jeans however, didn't budge an inch. Even though the waistband mostly sat below the swell of his stomach and even though they were a borrowed pair of Knight's, who was broader all over than Schofield normally, it seemed like the last pair of jeans he'd been able to fit into had finally given up on him.
"Dammit," he cussed but not seriously. Looking down at the bump, he quirked a small smile in its direction and said aloud, "Where'd you come from anyway. You weren't that big yesterday."
Behind him, where Knight still lay tangled in the bed, there was silence.
Shane had been hoping for a laugh but would have settled for a sarcastic 'they do that,' but Knight was entirely unforthcoming.
He'd been that way ever since the phone call.
Wearily, Shane kicked the pants off and instead reached for the pyjamas he'd abandoned on the floor. It wasn't like he'd be leaving the house anyway. It had taken a while but he'd finally resigned himself to the fact that no matter how loose a shirt he wore, it would still cling to the bump. Standing in front of the mirror, he could see how out of place the gentle curve looked on his lithe, muscular frame. There wasn't another inch of fat on him, his marine training had seen to that, and even the bump itself was hard, skin stretched taut over the solid mass within. Whilst his abdomen changed shape, the rest of his body had stayed the same. It looked like someone was slowly inflating a balloon inside of him, blowing his stomach entirely out of proportion. His condition was very visible now, very obvious. He didn't mind it if it meant that the baby was growing well but at the same time he rarely left the house these days.
He did mind the stares.
And being on leave - which he was stubbornly refusing to think of as maternity leave - it wasn't like he had anywhere to go anyway.
Schofield flopped back onto the bed and rolled over so he was facing Knight, both of them lying on their sides.
"It's not your fault," he said simply, staring the elephant in the room straight in the face.
Knight harrumphed but he didn't turn away.
"Of course it's my fault," he shot back. His voice was disdainful but Shane could see the flash of pain that passed through his amber lenses. "It's my genes, it's my fault. There's absolutely no one else to blame."
Although their daughter's condition had been weighing on both their minds from the day they had found out, they hadn't really addressed it. Every time Shane tried to mention it, Knight would close down abruptly. This time though, lying side by side but not touching in their darkened bedroom, Knight broke.
"I did this to her," he said in a spiteful, angry hiss. "It's all my fault."
Then, his shoulders slumped and all the fight seemed to leave his body. As the first tear slipped out, Shane realised he'd never seen Aloysius cry before. Not when they'd looked through his lost son's things, not when he'd found out his was a father again, not even when his parents had turned away from him. Shane reached out, pulled Knight's glasses off gently, signposting his every move in case the other man wanted to stop him, and tugged him into his arms. For his part, Aloysius allowed himself to be held, even buried his head in the crook of Schofield's shoulder and sob like a broken man, wounded like he'd never been before.
The episode didn't last long though, Knight would never allow that. With each passing second, Shane could feel him stiffen until he was curled rigidly into Schofield's side.
"There was a fifty-fifty chance you'd pass this on to any child of yours," Schofield said tentatively, unsure if Knight's sentimentality limits had been reached for the day, "But no matter what I do, my children will always be mutants. At least you know what you've done to you."
"I don't think giving her the ability to fly or some other shit like that is quite the same as making her blind," Knight countered bitterly but didn't pull away.
The pale scared face of Scott Summers flashed through Schofield's mind quickly followed by that of Alex's, drawn with worry.
"Not all mutations are good," he replied softly and then, Knight did pull back.
At least, enough that he could look Shane in the eye with no lenses between them - Shane having never bothered to put his on in the morning. His scars after all, were no longer the strangest part of his appearance. Even with the curtains still drawn, it must have been painful for Aloysius but he held his gaze anyway and slipped his arms from where they were wound around Shane's back to press his hands hard against the growing swell, fingers splayed protectively.
"What you're doing in incredible," he said reverently.
"I know," Shane replied with a small but genuine smile. He did know. He could feel her constantly now, a solid sure pressure at the base of his spine. She was getting big now, taking up space his organs would normally occupy - which his bladder in particular was not happy about - and his kidneys were her favourite punching bag. As he lay on his side, he could feel her twist and roll, making his stomach lurch uncomfortably. "I wasn't talking about me."
"Is she moving?" Knight asked.
Schofield nodded. She was almost always moving nowadays, restless shifting movements, getting sick of her confinement.
"I still can't feel her," Knight pushed a little harder, frustrated. "Why can't I? All the books say you should be able to feel a baby's movement from the outside by twenty-four weeks and we've passed that deadline already."
Schofield's smile got a little wider at the 'we.'
It may have been his body but they really were in this together.
"Yeah well, all the books are written for women," he chided but all the same, he covered Knight's hands with his own. He wanted him to feel a part of this. Jean had taught him a few little tricks and those he could share with Knight. With Knight's hands underneath his own and their fingers locked together, he skimmed them over the bump until he found what he was looking for.
"Here," he breathed, pressing down hard with their intertwined left hands and watching Knight's face expectantly. The pain and pressure in his back increased but it was worth it to hear Aloysius' involuntary noise of surprise as something solid rocked up into his right hand. As he watched, Schofield's stomach shifted beneath their hands.
"That's her head," Schofield explained, "If you press on it, only the head will move but if you press on her bottom, her whole body will move."
Knight watched rapt as Shane traced her rough outline onto his skin, showing Aloysius where she lay.
"Would you love her any less if she had down syndrome?" He asked out of the blue.
Knight recoiled violently, his response was instinctive, "No, why would you even - "
"What if she has a powerful mutation she can't control or causes her pain?" Shane prodded further, cutting across him. "Would you be angry with me?"
"Of course not," Knight replied. He could see where this was going but that didn't make it any easier.
Logic rarely got a say in emotion.
"So do you love her any less now that you know she has ARD?"
"No," he said softly.
"So she'll face some challenges in life," Schofield said firmly, "Who doesn't? We can't protect her from all of them. When Beth was born and I was going to give her up, Mother told me that she wouldn't remember my mistakes, just that I was your dad. This little one here isn't going to blame you for this. She'll see someone who knows what she's going through. She'll need you."
Knights eyes were looking suspiciously wet again, so he pressed on, not sure if either of them could handle a crying bounty hunter twice in the one day, "Though she'll never admit that. She is our daughter after all."
Knight laughed then before finally giving in to the pain and hiding his head against the warm darkness of Schofield's neck.
"You know you're pretty smart," he replied after a moment of just breathing him in, "for a marine."
Schofield smiled as he settled the pair of them back into the pillows. Even though the sun was beginning to rise, it was still early. Neither of them had successfully shaken the habit of getting up early, something else the military drilled into you. But they didn't have anywhere to be today and Beth it seemed, was content to allow them this little lie in. The world wouldn't end if they stayed here a little longer.
Probably.
"Tell me about it," he mumbled into Knight's shaggy mop of dark hair.
"Wha?" Knight's reply was muffled by his skin.
"Tell me what it's like having ARD," he repeated, "I want to understand."
With the sun peeping through the edges of the curtains then, Shane listened as Knight told him of growing up normal for the first few years, of lingering headaches that had started to trouble him when he started school, especially in the morning. He listened as Knight told him of going to the eye doctor, of thinking it would just be glasses; of MRI's and blood tests and of finding his world irrevocably tinted amber. He listened as Knight explained that the condition was progressive, that one day he would lose his sight entirely.
It took all of Schofield's strength to lie still and not shake as his lover laid out their daughter's future for him. He didn't want Knight to feel how much it hurt to know that two of the people he loved most in the world would suffer and go blind.
They called him a hero but he couldn't save them.
They called him brave but he didn't know if he was brave enough for this.
After he was done, they just lay there, curled together in silence and in the dark room, and with Knight's steady breathing, he felt sleep beginning to creep back up on him. It would be so nice just to stay here like this. He didn't mean to but against his best efforts, sleep over took him again.
It was several hours later, well into the mid-morning, that Beth woke him, hollering for her breakfast down the baby monitor. It was unusual for her to sleep so late. He hoped he hadn't slept through her crying for long. Shane might have jokingly told Knight that she was his problem, Schofield being a little preoccupied with the business of growing their other daughter but he could tell even before he opened his eyes that there was no point, he was alone in the bed.
Knight was gone.
