Guys?

What's happening? Where are you all?

Song of the Chapter: I Walk Alone-Saliva

(37)

Stephen's POV

"Mr. Farrelly?"

I snapped out of the trance, looking up at whoever the person called me with a glare. Couldn't these people give me some space? I never wanted to be here in the first place. I couldn't even compose my face up to a mask when I noticed who it was. I straightened up in my chair, clearing my throat and giving a nod as a greeting.

"You don't seem so fine," DiBiase started, his face twisted in a frown. From the corner of my eye I saw Rhodes enter the room, and moved to stand behind DiBiase. What the fuck was he doing here?

I pursed my lips to a thin line, not knowing what to say.

"You wanna... I'm not good at this... Talk?"

I averted my gaze, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Randy. The mere thought of him gone pained me, so how could I bear when asked to talk about him?

"Is Randy okay?"

My eyes snapped to Ted. "Sorry... What did you just ask?"

Ted cocked an eyebrow, his frown deepening. Did I blow everything up? I was tempted to look at Cody, but it'd seem suspicious. Then again, who wanted to see the smug smirk that was on his face? "I asked if Randy was okay..."

"Yeah," I gulped, chuckling nervously. Even a deaf and blind man could tell that I was faking everything. "He's...fine," hopefully.

"Then what is it that's bothering you?" Ted's brown eyes narrowed to slits, examining my tense posture. "Cody, will you give us a minute?"

A whispered sure later, he was gone. I looked up just to see a hint of a humorless smirk set on Cody's face, before he closed the glass door to the office and left. It irked me for no reason.

"Now, tell me," Ted leaned forward, bracing his arms on the work table.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. How the fuck was I going to say that Randy was nowhere to be found to Ted, let alone anyone else? I still couldn't believe it myself. I had woken up to a cold empty space beside me, and the screen of my phone showing a message what I had desperately prayed would not appear. I sighed again.

"Stephen?" It was the first time Ted ever called me by my first name. "Cooperate with me."

I ran a hand through my hair, my guts clenching uncomfortably. "I screwed up."

A few seconds of silence passed. "Everyone makes mistakes, Stephen."

"That's no excuse," I hissed at myself. "I vowed I'd never do anything to hurt him yet everything I do...seems to hurt him more."

"Maybe you still haven't figured him out," that wasn't an excuse either.

"He's gone and I can't find him. And it's my fault he left," I put my face in my hands.

"He left without you knowing?"

I nodded, daring myself not to cry in front of a stranger.

"The how can you blame yourself without actually knowing the reason-"

"I know why he left..." I growled, slamming a fist down the desk. "Someone else is carrying my blood. Or that's what she said."

"Farrelly!" it was a harshed whisper. I waited for the look that anyone would give me; disgusted, despised, worthless look that made me feel like a complete failure. I hung my head in unbearable shame, tasting bitter in my mouth. "How could you..."

"I still can't believe myself," I muttered, blinking away the tears that rushed to my eyes. "I admit, I did sleep with some other women after we married, but never after I started having feelings for him. But she can't be pregnant. I'm sure of it."

I looked at Ted, finally. He had his poker face on, emotionless and hard. He stared right through me, and I knew that he knew I was telling the truth. "You do know that, whether this girl is pregnant or not, what you did was wrong, right?"

I dropped my gaze.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No," I mumbled. "I don't want to. It's not my child-"

"You don't know that," Ted cut me off, lacing his fingers together. "Talk to her first. Be sure if it's yours or not. If it is, you have a responsibility."

But I didn't want to take on responsibility for something that I was not aware I did. Sure, I was aware of what happened between us, but nothing happened that the outcome would be this.

"Stephen..." I looked up, horror etched to my face. Dean and Wade was standing there at the entrance, stunned. They probably heard more than they should have. Ted excused himself from us, mumbling that we need to talk about the matter later, and left. A second later, Wade followed him shaking his head, disappointed at me. I waited till Dean leave too, but he didn't. Instead, he slowly walked over to me, for the first time a feeling showing in his face, and it being sadness.

"You said he was sick," he whispered, as if he still couldn't believe what he heard over. I shook my head, looking away from him.

"I'm sorry," the words slipped out of my lips.

"Sorry doesn't-" Dean's voice raised, but he stopped himself and calmed down before taking the seat Ted was sitting. "What happened?"

I spilled everything. And all the time I willed myself not to breakdown. But the pain that filled me was so intense, that I was choking on every word. I've never been this weak in my whole life; In fact, I have never been weak in any point of my life, not even when Emily died, and if you counted out when Randy fell into a coma again.

Dean wiped a hand down his face. He never gave me the 'You're a failure' look. He was the first one who was supposed to. But he didn't. I'd understand if Wade would never talk to me again. I was that much of a disappointment.

"Ted was right," Dean looked at me, unable to hide the emotions that were pouring out of his eyes. "You gotta find out if it really is your kid first. Then we'll see what we can do."

"But Randy-"

"I'll find him. I'll make Wade too," Dean reassured, but it was more like he was assuring himself. "Helmsley?"

I shook my head. "He told Randy stopped by, and that he has asked us not to search him... That he'd better be left alone," I placed my elbows on the table, resting my head on them for a several seconds. "I don't trust him."

"You have never trusted him, Stephen," Dean said, sighing frustratingly.

"I think Randy's with him," anger surged through me at the thought.

"How can you-"

"Where else could he be? He has no money, he isn't in his old house, and where could he have gone? To whom?" I hissed, clenching my fists.

Dean was speechless. I sneered at myself, and rushed to my feet before storming out of the office. Hurrying to the brunette that was a few feet away from me, I caught her elbow, stopping her.

"We need to talk."

Her hazel eyes averted from me, but she nodded. I gestured her to take the lead, and we went to her small work room. Heavy silence filled the room. Tension hung in the air. My eyes shifted to look at the barely there bump.

"It's not mine," I hissed, looking straight into her eyes. She wasn't looking at me, though. "This is impossible."

"It's not," she whispered, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear and glancing at me. "I wouldn't be pregnant then, would I?"

"You have yet to prove it's mine," I spat, feeling nothing but resentment at both the child and the mother. "I know that I'm not the only one you slept with, Torres. It's been what, three fucking months since we've last been together. Are you telling me that you have not been with anyone since then?"

"I'm not a whore," she fumed in anger, and I snickered. "I'm not! I've only slept with you in this office, Mr. Farrelly. Please don't try to make yourself innocent here."

"I'm far from innocent, Torres. I just don't want to parent a child that's not mine," I sneered.

"This is your child whether you like it or not! You are accepting me and this child, or else I'm going for the law," Torres hissed.

"Take a paternity test and show me that it's mine, first," I said in a dangerously clam voice.

"Before the ba-bay is born?" She stuttered. I narrowed my eyes, inspecting her sudden hesitant behavior. "It's to-too risky for an unborn-"

"I don't care," I interrupted. "You're gonna prove it, or I'm going to the law for offensive false accusations."

I waited till she give a barely there nod, and walked away.

XXX

Randy's POV

I sauntered down the staircase, grimacing at the sour taste in my mouth. Just the thought of eating sickened me. But then my stomach growled. It always did that whenever I decided I wasn't going to eat. Hunter was already awake, getting ready to go to the bar. I thought of trying my luck today to start working at his place, which he has denied for the past week, ever since this stupid flu had started. Usually, stomach flu would last only three days at the most, but I seemed to have it a bit more than a week.

And stomach flu didn't make you vomit. At least, not this much. That, I kept to myself. Maybe I was sick because I was depressed. Then again, I was not depressed at all. As a matter of fact, I didn't feel anything except the physical burn inside me because of this sickness. I have swallowed so much candy for the past few days, and drank so much apple juice as they were the only stuff I was supposed to eat when having stomach flu. I opened the refrigerator, taking out another carton of apple juice and opened it, pouring some into a glass.

Pushing myself up to sit on the counter, I ruffled up my hair, groaning when my stomach filled with nausea. I waited a moment before taking the glass and sipping the juice, slowly downing it down my throat. Placing the empty glass back beside me, I sighed. Everyday was the same. Wake up, survive, go back to sleep. Nobody brought up the subject of Stephen, and I was glad. Glad, as in relieved that no one had bothered to ask me what was wrong anymore.

"Good morning," Dave chirped, pulling on a jacket and entering the kitchen.

"Hey," I mumbled with a smile, sending him a nod. Dave had been a good friend, always a laugh if I had not been so engulfed in other things. He probably thought I was a troubled teenager who needed help, but he didn't show it.

"You up early today," he took a can of beer out of the fridge. "You're feeling better?"

"A bit," I shrugged, lightly swinging my legs and hugging my arms around me.

"You don't talk much, do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, as I ducked my head in somewhat embarrassment. "That's okay. I've dealt with worse. Like Hunter..."

I snickered. "Hunt is one grumpy bear."

Dave laughed, nodding in agreement. Awkward silence filled the room for a moment, before I suddenly started to feel his fingers down my bare arm. "May I?" He asked.

"Yeah," I whispered, stretching my arm out to him so he could examine the tattoos. Dave himself had tattoos marred arms, and each of them meant something for him.

"Do they mean something?" He looked at me. I shifted my gaze to the floor, and nodded. He didn't ask me what it was, maybe because I must have looked like a kicked puppy. Or that's what Hunter was used to call me these days. And I was once a kitten...

We pulled away when Hunter appeared at the kitchen and cleared his throat. Dave stepped back, scratching his head and mumbling that he had to go open the bar, and left the room. I flashed a half hearted oops! grin sheepishly at the glare he was giving me. When he didn't stop glowering, I arched an eyebrow. "Whaaat?"

"Is there something that I should know about?" He growled, approaching me with his arms crossed across his chest. I rolled my eyes, mimicking his posture.

"Jealous, much, Hunter?"

His eyes narrowed at me, and looked up and down my body. "Go put something on."

I looked at myself. I was wearing boxer shorts, wasn't I? I was a guy, I didn't have anything to hide like a girl's. Again, I raised an eyebrow at him. "What, are you like, feeling intimidated by me?"

Hunter shook his head. "What is wrong with you?"

I froze. What was wrong with me?

"Hey, Hunter!" Dave yelled, his voice faint like he was outside. "There's a cat at your door!"

Hunter frowned, while I gasped and jumped down from the counter, running towards the front door. It was open, well, almost closed, as Dave was trying to hold a cat off from entering the house. Eyes widening in surprise, shouting at him to stop I rushed to the ginger kitten's side, picking it up and hugging to my chest.

"Back off! It's mine!" I hissed at confused Hunter and Dave, patting my fur ball's head. I noticed that it was wet, slimy and dirt smudged, and frowned at it. It must have come all the way from Stephen's house searching for me. My chest tightened painfully, and without a glance at the two puzzled men, I made my way inside the house, to the other bathroom in the ground floor. Hunter would kill me if I used his one to wash the kitten. It mewed as we walked into the bathroom, and I put it in the sink, filling a bowl of warm water to bathe it.

I was, in no way taking a dirty cat to the bed, if Hunter would let me. I squeezed some shampoo into the bowl, bubbling it up before pouring it over Sheamus, holding him when he tried to escape. Filling the bowl again, I massaged down its body, taking more time to rub behind its ears. I chuckled when it purred loudly, nuzzling its face into my palm.

"It's been a while since I last saw that," Hunter came in, sitting on the closed toilet.

"Sheamus?" I wondered when had he seen him.

"No, silly," he cracked a smile, pinching my cheek lightly. "Your smile. You've been such a grumpy ass for the past days."

"Look who's talking," I rolled my eyes, pouring the water over Sheamus again, before letting it run away, planting wet paw prints all over the floor. I gave an apologetic look to Hunter when he sighed. He looked at me for a while, before dropping his gaze. "You''re not going to the bar today?"

"I should," he said to himself, but made no move in process.

"Hunter..." Worried, I dropped to my knees between his legs. He blinked, drawing an inch away from me. I was making him uncomfortable? I kept my distance. "Is it Gunner? Is he bothering you again?"

"He's a problem, but not in this case," Hunter ran a hand through his growing his hair. I had noticed that he was letting it grow out again. Then I remembered him saying that he liked someone. I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering again who it might be.

"Is it Dave?"

"Huh?" Hunter blinked. When I gave him a desperate look, he cocked an eyebrow at me. "Me and Dave? Are you for real?" I gave an eh look. "No, Jesus... No."

"Then who is it?" I all but whined. There was definitely something wrong with me. I was one person inside and another person on the outside.

"Can we not talk about this?" He softly demanded, standing up and moving away. I got onto my feet, following him out into the living room.

"Then stop sulking around!" I threw my hands in the air. "You feeling bad makes me feel bad."

"Randy-"

"You should be happy so I can be happy-"

"Randal-"

"And you won't tell me anything for god's sake-"

"Randy!" Hunter's hands grabbed my hips tightly, holding me to a place, making me stop following him around. "Calm down, okay?"

"I am calmed down-" I started.

"Hush," he cut me off, leaning towards me. I placed my hands on his chest, clenching them into fists. Suddenly, I was feeling angry. I huffed, looking away from him. "You were such a baby owl yesterday, barely making any sound and here you are, like a little chatterbox."

Hunter was right. Something was off with me. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, huffing again.

"Can I trust you to stay alone, here?" He asked, patting my head. I nodded against his shoulder blade, turning my head and breathing a feathery kiss at the base of his jaw. There went me again, feeling all touchy touchy. Pulling away, I stepped back, nodding.

"I won't die, I promise," I said, placing a hand over my heart.

"It's not funny, kid," Hunter growled, before rubbing his temple tiredly. "Just, be careful okay? Don't open the door for anyone unless it's either me or D."

"Okay," I said, jumping down on the couch and stretching out, yawning. I felt a hand brush at my cheek before a faint sound of the front door closing reached to my ears.

When I woke up, my right leg was numb again. There weren't any cramps, or the urge to vomit or headaches, but I felt like I was swaying and there was a light buzzing in my ears. Groaning, I rolled on the couch till I was lying on my back and put a hand over my eyes, to block out the sunlight that crept through the windows. Knowing that sleep was gone, I achingly stood up from the couch, going to the bedroom. I put something on, brushing my teeth again deciding that it was time I went to a doctor.

I shivered, hoping this would be the last trip I'd ever make to the hospital. I caressed Sheamus' fur for a while, still heart warmed at the thought of him searching for me for days. He was sleeping on Hunter's bed. I pinched its nose before leaving the room, and the house, locking it from outside. Pulling the hood on and shoving my hands in the pockets, I walked to the hospital, praying that I wouldn't meet anyone who knew me on the way there.

I rested a few minutes at a bench in the amusement park in the town, as just walking fifteen minutes seemed to wore me out. When I finally made it to the hospital, it was crowded. Maybe all the people came because they were sick too. Shaking my head at that stupid thought, I pulled the hood off my head and checked the list they put at the reception, searching for a doctor who wasn't a specialist. I didn't have that much money to spend on, as I was managing on the money I had kept to go to college.

"Mr. Farrelly?" I spun around, startled. Dr. Stratus was giving me a surprised look, looking me up and down. "How are you?"

"Randy... Please call me Randy," I corrected her, trying not to grimace. "I'm obviously not well, that's why I'm here."

She chuckled, before motioning me to follow her. We went to her office, me explaining what was wrong with me on our way. She was frowning, but she had that look on her face which said that she had a vague idea what I had. "Could you please take off your shirt and lie here?"

I did as she told me, and climbed onto the uncomfortable hospital bed, lying down. She checked my eyes, and asked me questions, and then touched all over my stomach before settling her hand down on my abdomen. She cracked a smile, but it disappeared soon.

"I'm gonna have to take a blood sample from you," she said, poking her head out of the door and calling for a nurse. I wiped the thin coat of sweat that coated my forehead, feeling dread at the pitch of my stomach. But she smiled, didn't she? So it was something that wasn't bad, I guessed.

While the nurse took blood out of my arm, I watched as Dr. Stratus hurrying here and there in the room, taking books and files out and checking. When the nurse left with the tube of blood, she handed me a test strip and urged me towards her personal bathroom. I froze, just then noticing what she had handed to me.

"Doc... This is-"

"I know, I know, but trust me," she ushered me to the bathroom. I bit on my lip hard, doing what I had to do. I took the strip back to her. She took it with glove covered hands and placed it away on a transparent plastic plate, gesturing for me to sit down.

"Now, I can't be sure if it's really what I'm thinking. You'd have to come back in two days for your blood report." She asked me to repeat what my symptoms were, and I did. My mind was elsewhere. I couldn't breathe properly, and I was stuttering when I was talking. Dr. Stratus took off her gloves, holding my hands to stop the trembling as I talked. She nodded thoughtfully when I was finished, and suddenly barked out a laugh. Her whole face lit up, while my heart sank down to my guts. "Congratulations, Randy. You and Stephen are going to be parents."

a tiny sound escaped from my lips, and I couldn't help the tears that flowed out of my eyes. I covered my mouth with my hands, struggling to stop the hysterical sounds. This could not be happening to me. Not when I was trying to live my life alone in a better way. This was just impossible. It took only a several seconds for Dr. Stratus to understand that I was not crying from happiness. She held my hand again, muttering a soothing words before I calmed down a bit, wiping away my tears and composing myself not to look weak.

"Is everything alright?" She asked in a soft voice, patting my hand.

I nodded, swallowing down thickly as I wiped another stray tear away. "Are... Are you sure?"

"Yes," she gave a small smile. "It'll be confirmed when the blood test reports comes out." I put my face in my hands, breathing in and out deeply for a few minutes. I couldn't think straight. My head was spinning, my whole body aching at the thought of something living inside me. "You can go home now, and get some rest if you want... I can post the results to your home, if you'd like."

I vigorously shook my head, refusing the offer.

"Okay, then... Would you like to have your past reports? Stephen left them here a few weeks ago."

I sniffed, nodding. Casting a smile at her which probably looked like a grimace, I took the file, and opened it. I tuned the report papers, running my eyes through them, noticing that I had seen all of them as Stephen had shown them to me. Then I frowned, my eyes finding a large, yellow envelope at the end of the papers. Heart about to burst in my chest, I took the papers out of the envelope, looking at them. I gasped as they slipped through my fingers, strewing over the floor. I felt my breathing stop, as my eyes met the reports of a baby I previously carried.

[A/N] Please read!

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