Hello all! This fic is completely AU. It will contain slash(male/male),
rape, abuse, and, hopefully, a little hapiness. Please, if you've
experienced any kind of physical suffering, tell someone!
Disclaimer: Nope, i don't own the colourful characters of Gundam Wing, Sunrise and Bandai do, and i'm only writing this fic for fun, not to make any money.
Please, enjoy!
"Here you are Trowa", Quatre Winner beamed as he passed a plate across the table to his friend, and partner."Nice freshly cooked pancakes!"
Trowa Barton glanced up weakly into the smiling face of the blond arabian. He didn't think he could stomach pancakes...but Quatre had gone to the bother of making them, and he couldn't bare to disapoint the young boy. He picked up a fork, and began to play around with the food.
"What's wrong Trowa?", Quatre said, somewhat suspiciously, setting himself down beside the older boy. He was worried about Trowa. His partner had barely eaten anything for weeks. He seemed unusually distant and his face had gradually changed from its full and healthy tanned outlook to a guant white shade of his former self.
"No..nothing", Trowa sighed as he pushed his bangs back from his forehead. He was lying. He felt so hot...and weak. He knew from the look on Quatre's face that the Sandrock pilot was about to question him, so he lifted a forkfull of pancakes to his mouth, trying to prove he had't changed.
"Trowa", Quatre breathed gently, placing his hand softly on the brown haired boys shoulder to reassure him,"Please. Tell me what's wrong."
"I told you", Trowa growled, quivering slightly at his lovers touch."Nothing is wrong with me. I'm perfectly fine, just leave me alone."
Quatre removed his hand, stung by Trowa's tone of voice. He knew that the Heavyarms pilot could be agressive to those he did not like, but he himself had never experienced the less-likeable side of Trowa.
Seeing the obvious hurt that had crossed Quatre's face, Trowa attempted a weak smile.
"I didn't mean to sound so..so..well, ungrateful Quatre", Trowa apolgised,"I know you're just looking out for me, and that's not really something i'm used to. It feels quite strange having someone around who actually cares about whether i live or die."
"Oh Trowa", Quatre smiled, his face lighting up in hapiness as he gave the older boys hand a squeeze."I'm always going to be around for you, don't forget that. You can tell me anything, and i'll listen to you."
"Thanks", Trowa said quietly, his vision suddenly dimming slightly. Without warning, he dropped the fork onto the floor, the clanging of the steel against the marble tiles echoing around the small room. The pilot shot up from the table, his stomach doubling up in pain. Tears glittered brightly in his now moist emerald green eyes. He staggered along the hallway to the bathroom, his ragged toenails catching in the soft feathery carpet.
"Trowa!", Quatre called, rushing after him, the fork lying forgotten on the floor.
Trowa flicked his hair from his eyes as he bent over the toliet bowl. He began to cough violently, sick escaping from his mouth. His stomach swayed around wildly inside his body. He felt as if someone had attached him to the spin cycle in the washing machine. Then, there was a comforting, yet firm slap on the back.
"It's all right Trowa", Quatre said soothingly,"I'm here. Please, tell me what happened, i'm worried about you."
Trowa's head was swimming with thoughts, blood pounding through his veins. All he could see was a swirling mass of colour, objects blurring into one another.
"I don't know", he gasped, sobbing,"I don't..don..don't..know."
His pupils became as large saucers, and he closed his eyes, falling to the ground in despair.
Quatre lunged out, and caught Trowa by the neck. Atfer grabbing the nearest towel, he set his lover's head down gently on the soft material, and ran to the living room, his head pounding in worry.
"I have to get help", he murmered, frantically tapping the phone buttons, fear racing through his mind. What if Trowa died? "No Quatre", he said, fanning himself,"Don't allow yourself to think like that, you can't."
"Hello, 911, how can i help you", the official voice on the other side of the phone asked.
"Thank goodness", Quatre breathed easily once more, thankfull that someone had picked up. "Yes", he continued,"I need an ambulance straight away, my friend is extremely sick."
"What are the symptoms?", the operator asked, wary of Quatre's young voice. The emergency services had had too many hoax calls from youngsters, and all too often it had resulted in loss of life.
"Symptoms?!", Quatre cried down the line,"My friend is very ill, he's just collapsed, if you don't get here soon, there's a chance he could die!"
"I'm sorry sir", the operator said, ignoring the urgency in Quatre's voice,"Unless your friend has suffered a heart attack or a similar illness, you shall have to wait the required time of 2 hours for an ambulance."
"2 hours!", Quatre blazed angrily down the phone,"I can't wait 2 hours! This is an emergency!"
"I'm sorry sir, but we must prioritise our calls. Keep your friend warm, and we'll have an ambulance on it's way as soon as possible."
Quatre slammed the phone back into the reciever, outraged at the way he had just been treated.
"What can i do", he breathed, pacing up and down the room,"There's no way i can take the chance of waiting for that ambulance, 2 hours without medical attention could kill Trowa."
The blond arabian's face became flustered as he thought about his lover, lying motionless in the bathroom. He blinked his eyes, trying not to cry. There had to be something he could do.
"That's it!", he cried, rushing to the monitor by the door,"Why didn't i think of it sooner!"
Hurriedly, he picked up the speaker, and declared his details.
Ring, ring
Ring, ring
Ring, ring
"Come on Duo", Quatre whispered anxiously,"Pick up the phone. For once in your life, pick up the phone."
"He..he..hello?", a sleepy voice came from the other end of the line.
"Duo!", Quatre exclaimed, overjoyed that his friend was awake.
"Oh, hi Q", Duo yawned blissfully into the monitor. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling his plait."How come you're calling so early?"
"Emergency", Quatre replied, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wall,"I need your help."
"What happened?", Duo asked, brushing the sleep from his eyes.
"It's Trowa. He collapsed in the bathroom. I need to get him to a hospital."
"Geez!", Duo whistled, finally sounding awake,"Have you tried the ambulance?"
"Yeah", Quatre said, "They can't send one for 2 hours, Trowa could be dead by then. Please, can you drive us?"
"Uh...", Duo stammered.
"Please Duo!", Quatre practically screamed into the phone,"It's matter of life and death!"
"I'll go wake up Heero", Duo nodded briskly,"It's not my car...he'll go nuts if he finds out i borrowed it without asking...again."
"There's no time!", Quatre bellowed,"Trowa needs medical attention, and he needs it now!"
Duo stood still for a minute, thinking of Trowa's plight. The brown haired boy of silence was his friend...and, he knew that he could never forgive himself if Trowa died because he wasn't willing to risk the cold shoulder from Heero.
"Duo, are..are you still there?"
Duo snapped back to attention."Bring Trowa as near to the door as you can get him", he ordered,"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Thanks Duo!", Quatre gushed gratefully, wanting to grasp the american firmly and hug him for his generousity so much that he almost hugged the monitor attatched to the wall.
"No need", came the reply.
The dial tone sounded. Duo was gone.
Quatre ran to the bathroom, loosning Trowa's belf, and removing his shirt, as he'd heard that it stopped blood circulation.
As he slid Trowa's shirt from his malnurished body, Quatre noticed a mark on his lovers left side.
"What's that", he asked himself, inspecting the deep, ugly, twisted scar.
"Looks as though it was made be some kind of knife. I'm going to have to ask Trowa about it", he muttered, wrapping a blanket around Trowa's chilled body. Carefully, he dragged him along the floor toward the front door.
"Don't worry Trowa", he kissed his lover's forehead hopefully,"Help is coming."
Duo entered the bedroom he shared with Heero silently, tiptoing across the floor boards. The room was completely bare. The boys barely had enough money to feed themselves, never mind furnish the bedroom. Even the double bed they shared had been a gift from Trowa.
"And the car", Duo thought ruefully,"Well, let's not go into that."
Only one thing ran through his mind as he approached Heero's coat,"I have to save him. I have to help Trowa."
Grabbing the keys from Heero's jacket pocket, Duo was careful not to wake his lover as he slid back across the boards.
"Heero won't mind", he told himself as he started up the car,"Not when he finds out what this was in aid of."
**************************************************************************** *******************
"Barton, Trowa?"
Quatre rushed to the reception desk, gesturing for Duo to follow.
"Right here", the blond boy said, glimmers of both hope and sadness shining in the blue eyes.
"You can see him now", the receptionist said, pointing out the way to Trowa's ward."He's in isolation block G."
"Thank you", Duo said gratefully, Quatre already having rushed down the corridor.
"Are you Quatre Winner?", the doctor said as Quatre entered the ward.
Quatre nodded eagerly,"Yes. Can i see Trowa now?"
The doctor showed him through,"Of course, he's been asking for you."
Quatre's heart swelled with pride as he entered the small cubicle. He inhaled the smell, breathing out at once. He hated hospital smells, they reminded him of when his father had died, and he preffered to quash memories like that into the sand, remembering only the happy times.
"Quatre?", came Trowa's weak voice from below the bedsheets.
"I'm here Trowa", was the reply,"I'm so glad you're all right, i was so worried about you. When you collapsed on the bathroom floor, my mind just went into panic overload."
"Well", the doctor interrupted,"you did the right thing by bringing him here. Where's the other young man, the one with the long hair braid?"
"That'd be me", Duo grinned as he entered the room, beaming at the sight of Trowa lying awake. He approached the bed with caution, standing slightly further away from the Heavyarms pilot than he would have liked to, he was aware that Quatre might suddenly become defensive of his lover, he knew that if it had been Heero in the hospital bed, no one would have been allowed near him. "So, Barton, you're alright then?"
"Actually", the doctor said, adressing Quatre and Duo before Trowa could answer,"I'd like to talk to you about that."
Quatre became crestfallen."Why?", he whispered, his face once more turning an ashen colour,"Is there something seriously wrong?"
"Yeah doc", Duo chimed in,"what's happening?"
"Well", the doctor began, helping Trowa sit up a little more, to make him more comfortable,"I think i may know what is wrong with Mr Barton, but i'm going to need your help to prove it. I have some questions for you. Please answer truthfully, it'll help your friend in the long-run."
"Sure", Duo said, worry begining to enter his mind,"fire away doc."
"Alright", the doctor consulted his clipboard."Does Trowa often have slight mood swings?"
Duo turned to Quatre."I can't field this one Q, i don't live with the guy."
Quatre thought carefully, glancing at the weak boy lying in the hospital bed.
"Not usually", he said truthfully,"Sometimes he has the odd temper tantrum, but everyone gets those."
The doctor made a few notes, and continued."Has he eaten a lot in the last few weeks?"
Quatre shook his head at once."No, he's barely eaten anything. In fact just this morning i tried to get him to eat some pancakes, but he wouldn't."
The doctor sighed as he turned to Trowa.
"Mr Barton, have you experienced slight swelling, or pain on any part of your body recently?"
Trowa coughed weakly before hanging his head. "Yes", he began, painfully aware of Quatre's loving stare, he knew how much the blond boy cared for him. "On my upper body, around the chest area. And, my stomach feels thin, sort of stretched."
"You should have told me", a teary eyed Quatre said,"I could have helped you."
"It was inner pain", Trowa replied,"There was nothing you could have done."
"If i may continue?", the doctor asked Quatre, pointedly.
The arabian nodded, wanting nothing more for Trowa than a full return to health.
"Do you feel sickly when you wake in the morning, with no energy?"
The look on Trowa's face said it all.
The doctor raised his eyes and shook his head.
"Finally", the man said,"Can you tell me what kind of work you have done in the last 10 years Mr Barton?"
The three boys exchanged mutual glances before Trowa finally answered the question.
"I've worked a lot with mobile suits, their technology, and such", Trowa replied, slightly more distantly than he had intended.
"It can't be", the doctor said quietly, shaking his head, dumbfounded, "There is just no way that could happen..."
"What is it?", Trowa prayed, hoping that whatever had happened to him that morning was not fatal. He glimpsed Quatre from the corner of his eye. The poor arab was a quivering wreck, there was no way he could cope with any sort of tragic news.
"It's strange..very strange, but from my findings, it's the only solution i can come up with", the doctor turned toward Trowa. "Mr Barton, you're going to have a child."
"What!", Trowa cried, springing up from the bed, only to be pushed down again by Duo."I can't be pregnant, i'm a boy!"
"When you were working with those mobile suits..."the doctor said softly,"There must have been a malfunction...or a lubricant that leaked into your blood stream in some way...that's the only solution i can think of."
The blood drained from Quatre's face as he glanced at the shaken figure of Trowa. His partner..his lover..his friend..was having a baby. What was he going to do?
Quatre locked eyes with Trowa, frightened at the announcement. But, amidst the shouts from the Heavyarms pilot's bed, and the sharp retorts from the doctor, another thought flickered in the blond eyed boy's mind.
"I am his father?", Quatre mumbled, so softly that no-one could hear him.
"But i'm not ready for a child", Trowa growled, wrapping his arms around his body."How am i going to take care of it?"
"You should have thought about that before you starting playing games", the doctor informed him, picking up his clipboard.
"Excuse me", Duo glared at the ignorant doctor,"Are you implying that my friend here is some sort of user?"
"Of course not", the man replyed coldly,"I was mearly suggesting that he should think before he acts, that's all."
"Well, he hardly expected this outcome!", Duo made a fist. He, like Trowa, was very protective of his friends, and this doctor had just strained a nerve.
"Well, i would hope so", the young doctor snapped as he ran his hands through his hair,"Unless there's something he's not telling you."
He turned to Trowa.
"You may leave when you are ready", he told the shell shocked boy."Please, feel free to return if you need anymore advice."
Duo shook his fist as the curtain was slipped back, and the doctor disapearred.
"He won't be needing any advice from you. I should kill that..", Duo began, outraged that someone should treat a patient like that.
"Leave it Duo", Quatre interrupted,"He's not important enough to bother about. We have to help Trowa."
Duo nodded, giving his full attention once more to the withering wreck that was the Heavyarms pilot.
"But...but i can't have a child", Trowa sobbed, covering his face with the bed covers,"I can't....i'm not ready. Who is going to look after it if i become ill? How can i bring another life into this world, when i can barely keep control of my own? What am i going to do?!"
He burst into tears, the soft silver rainfalls matting his hair, and staining his cheeks.
Quatre slid his arms around Trowa's waist.
"Hush Trowa", he kissed the boy gently,"It'll be alright. We'll get through this somehow...you and me..we'll bring it up together Trowa. Your child. My child. Our child."
Trowa returned Quatre's embrace, grateful to have someone who cared so much about him. But as he settled into Quatre's warm body, he caught eyes with Duo, sensing what his friend was feeling in those deep violet eyes.
"What if...", Trowa's mind flashed back to that night 4 months ago,"What if...Duo is the father of my child?"
Then, Trowa's mind flashed back to a slightly more recent incident...an incident that he had hoped to never have to recall again.
"I won't be able to live with myself if that..that thing is the father of my child", he wept bitterly into Quatre's arms.
Duo cracked his knuckles absent mindedly as he searched his own thoughts, thinking back to the one night he had spent with Trowa. He laid eyes on the embrace between Trowa and Quatre.
"I can't be the father of Trowa's child", he mumbled incohearently,"It'll ruin everything.."
To be continued...
Well, that was chapter one of this fic, i hope you liked it, and that it wasn't too boring! Please, feel free to review, thanks for reading!
p.s. I'm pretty sure the nurses/doctors/operator wouldn't act in this way, it just had to be like this for the story. All credit to the people who brave all conitions and low pay to save our lives.
Disclaimer: Nope, i don't own the colourful characters of Gundam Wing, Sunrise and Bandai do, and i'm only writing this fic for fun, not to make any money.
Please, enjoy!
"Here you are Trowa", Quatre Winner beamed as he passed a plate across the table to his friend, and partner."Nice freshly cooked pancakes!"
Trowa Barton glanced up weakly into the smiling face of the blond arabian. He didn't think he could stomach pancakes...but Quatre had gone to the bother of making them, and he couldn't bare to disapoint the young boy. He picked up a fork, and began to play around with the food.
"What's wrong Trowa?", Quatre said, somewhat suspiciously, setting himself down beside the older boy. He was worried about Trowa. His partner had barely eaten anything for weeks. He seemed unusually distant and his face had gradually changed from its full and healthy tanned outlook to a guant white shade of his former self.
"No..nothing", Trowa sighed as he pushed his bangs back from his forehead. He was lying. He felt so hot...and weak. He knew from the look on Quatre's face that the Sandrock pilot was about to question him, so he lifted a forkfull of pancakes to his mouth, trying to prove he had't changed.
"Trowa", Quatre breathed gently, placing his hand softly on the brown haired boys shoulder to reassure him,"Please. Tell me what's wrong."
"I told you", Trowa growled, quivering slightly at his lovers touch."Nothing is wrong with me. I'm perfectly fine, just leave me alone."
Quatre removed his hand, stung by Trowa's tone of voice. He knew that the Heavyarms pilot could be agressive to those he did not like, but he himself had never experienced the less-likeable side of Trowa.
Seeing the obvious hurt that had crossed Quatre's face, Trowa attempted a weak smile.
"I didn't mean to sound so..so..well, ungrateful Quatre", Trowa apolgised,"I know you're just looking out for me, and that's not really something i'm used to. It feels quite strange having someone around who actually cares about whether i live or die."
"Oh Trowa", Quatre smiled, his face lighting up in hapiness as he gave the older boys hand a squeeze."I'm always going to be around for you, don't forget that. You can tell me anything, and i'll listen to you."
"Thanks", Trowa said quietly, his vision suddenly dimming slightly. Without warning, he dropped the fork onto the floor, the clanging of the steel against the marble tiles echoing around the small room. The pilot shot up from the table, his stomach doubling up in pain. Tears glittered brightly in his now moist emerald green eyes. He staggered along the hallway to the bathroom, his ragged toenails catching in the soft feathery carpet.
"Trowa!", Quatre called, rushing after him, the fork lying forgotten on the floor.
Trowa flicked his hair from his eyes as he bent over the toliet bowl. He began to cough violently, sick escaping from his mouth. His stomach swayed around wildly inside his body. He felt as if someone had attached him to the spin cycle in the washing machine. Then, there was a comforting, yet firm slap on the back.
"It's all right Trowa", Quatre said soothingly,"I'm here. Please, tell me what happened, i'm worried about you."
Trowa's head was swimming with thoughts, blood pounding through his veins. All he could see was a swirling mass of colour, objects blurring into one another.
"I don't know", he gasped, sobbing,"I don't..don..don't..know."
His pupils became as large saucers, and he closed his eyes, falling to the ground in despair.
Quatre lunged out, and caught Trowa by the neck. Atfer grabbing the nearest towel, he set his lover's head down gently on the soft material, and ran to the living room, his head pounding in worry.
"I have to get help", he murmered, frantically tapping the phone buttons, fear racing through his mind. What if Trowa died? "No Quatre", he said, fanning himself,"Don't allow yourself to think like that, you can't."
"Hello, 911, how can i help you", the official voice on the other side of the phone asked.
"Thank goodness", Quatre breathed easily once more, thankfull that someone had picked up. "Yes", he continued,"I need an ambulance straight away, my friend is extremely sick."
"What are the symptoms?", the operator asked, wary of Quatre's young voice. The emergency services had had too many hoax calls from youngsters, and all too often it had resulted in loss of life.
"Symptoms?!", Quatre cried down the line,"My friend is very ill, he's just collapsed, if you don't get here soon, there's a chance he could die!"
"I'm sorry sir", the operator said, ignoring the urgency in Quatre's voice,"Unless your friend has suffered a heart attack or a similar illness, you shall have to wait the required time of 2 hours for an ambulance."
"2 hours!", Quatre blazed angrily down the phone,"I can't wait 2 hours! This is an emergency!"
"I'm sorry sir, but we must prioritise our calls. Keep your friend warm, and we'll have an ambulance on it's way as soon as possible."
Quatre slammed the phone back into the reciever, outraged at the way he had just been treated.
"What can i do", he breathed, pacing up and down the room,"There's no way i can take the chance of waiting for that ambulance, 2 hours without medical attention could kill Trowa."
The blond arabian's face became flustered as he thought about his lover, lying motionless in the bathroom. He blinked his eyes, trying not to cry. There had to be something he could do.
"That's it!", he cried, rushing to the monitor by the door,"Why didn't i think of it sooner!"
Hurriedly, he picked up the speaker, and declared his details.
Ring, ring
Ring, ring
Ring, ring
"Come on Duo", Quatre whispered anxiously,"Pick up the phone. For once in your life, pick up the phone."
"He..he..hello?", a sleepy voice came from the other end of the line.
"Duo!", Quatre exclaimed, overjoyed that his friend was awake.
"Oh, hi Q", Duo yawned blissfully into the monitor. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling his plait."How come you're calling so early?"
"Emergency", Quatre replied, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wall,"I need your help."
"What happened?", Duo asked, brushing the sleep from his eyes.
"It's Trowa. He collapsed in the bathroom. I need to get him to a hospital."
"Geez!", Duo whistled, finally sounding awake,"Have you tried the ambulance?"
"Yeah", Quatre said, "They can't send one for 2 hours, Trowa could be dead by then. Please, can you drive us?"
"Uh...", Duo stammered.
"Please Duo!", Quatre practically screamed into the phone,"It's matter of life and death!"
"I'll go wake up Heero", Duo nodded briskly,"It's not my car...he'll go nuts if he finds out i borrowed it without asking...again."
"There's no time!", Quatre bellowed,"Trowa needs medical attention, and he needs it now!"
Duo stood still for a minute, thinking of Trowa's plight. The brown haired boy of silence was his friend...and, he knew that he could never forgive himself if Trowa died because he wasn't willing to risk the cold shoulder from Heero.
"Duo, are..are you still there?"
Duo snapped back to attention."Bring Trowa as near to the door as you can get him", he ordered,"I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Thanks Duo!", Quatre gushed gratefully, wanting to grasp the american firmly and hug him for his generousity so much that he almost hugged the monitor attatched to the wall.
"No need", came the reply.
The dial tone sounded. Duo was gone.
Quatre ran to the bathroom, loosning Trowa's belf, and removing his shirt, as he'd heard that it stopped blood circulation.
As he slid Trowa's shirt from his malnurished body, Quatre noticed a mark on his lovers left side.
"What's that", he asked himself, inspecting the deep, ugly, twisted scar.
"Looks as though it was made be some kind of knife. I'm going to have to ask Trowa about it", he muttered, wrapping a blanket around Trowa's chilled body. Carefully, he dragged him along the floor toward the front door.
"Don't worry Trowa", he kissed his lover's forehead hopefully,"Help is coming."
Duo entered the bedroom he shared with Heero silently, tiptoing across the floor boards. The room was completely bare. The boys barely had enough money to feed themselves, never mind furnish the bedroom. Even the double bed they shared had been a gift from Trowa.
"And the car", Duo thought ruefully,"Well, let's not go into that."
Only one thing ran through his mind as he approached Heero's coat,"I have to save him. I have to help Trowa."
Grabbing the keys from Heero's jacket pocket, Duo was careful not to wake his lover as he slid back across the boards.
"Heero won't mind", he told himself as he started up the car,"Not when he finds out what this was in aid of."
**************************************************************************** *******************
"Barton, Trowa?"
Quatre rushed to the reception desk, gesturing for Duo to follow.
"Right here", the blond boy said, glimmers of both hope and sadness shining in the blue eyes.
"You can see him now", the receptionist said, pointing out the way to Trowa's ward."He's in isolation block G."
"Thank you", Duo said gratefully, Quatre already having rushed down the corridor.
"Are you Quatre Winner?", the doctor said as Quatre entered the ward.
Quatre nodded eagerly,"Yes. Can i see Trowa now?"
The doctor showed him through,"Of course, he's been asking for you."
Quatre's heart swelled with pride as he entered the small cubicle. He inhaled the smell, breathing out at once. He hated hospital smells, they reminded him of when his father had died, and he preffered to quash memories like that into the sand, remembering only the happy times.
"Quatre?", came Trowa's weak voice from below the bedsheets.
"I'm here Trowa", was the reply,"I'm so glad you're all right, i was so worried about you. When you collapsed on the bathroom floor, my mind just went into panic overload."
"Well", the doctor interrupted,"you did the right thing by bringing him here. Where's the other young man, the one with the long hair braid?"
"That'd be me", Duo grinned as he entered the room, beaming at the sight of Trowa lying awake. He approached the bed with caution, standing slightly further away from the Heavyarms pilot than he would have liked to, he was aware that Quatre might suddenly become defensive of his lover, he knew that if it had been Heero in the hospital bed, no one would have been allowed near him. "So, Barton, you're alright then?"
"Actually", the doctor said, adressing Quatre and Duo before Trowa could answer,"I'd like to talk to you about that."
Quatre became crestfallen."Why?", he whispered, his face once more turning an ashen colour,"Is there something seriously wrong?"
"Yeah doc", Duo chimed in,"what's happening?"
"Well", the doctor began, helping Trowa sit up a little more, to make him more comfortable,"I think i may know what is wrong with Mr Barton, but i'm going to need your help to prove it. I have some questions for you. Please answer truthfully, it'll help your friend in the long-run."
"Sure", Duo said, worry begining to enter his mind,"fire away doc."
"Alright", the doctor consulted his clipboard."Does Trowa often have slight mood swings?"
Duo turned to Quatre."I can't field this one Q, i don't live with the guy."
Quatre thought carefully, glancing at the weak boy lying in the hospital bed.
"Not usually", he said truthfully,"Sometimes he has the odd temper tantrum, but everyone gets those."
The doctor made a few notes, and continued."Has he eaten a lot in the last few weeks?"
Quatre shook his head at once."No, he's barely eaten anything. In fact just this morning i tried to get him to eat some pancakes, but he wouldn't."
The doctor sighed as he turned to Trowa.
"Mr Barton, have you experienced slight swelling, or pain on any part of your body recently?"
Trowa coughed weakly before hanging his head. "Yes", he began, painfully aware of Quatre's loving stare, he knew how much the blond boy cared for him. "On my upper body, around the chest area. And, my stomach feels thin, sort of stretched."
"You should have told me", a teary eyed Quatre said,"I could have helped you."
"It was inner pain", Trowa replied,"There was nothing you could have done."
"If i may continue?", the doctor asked Quatre, pointedly.
The arabian nodded, wanting nothing more for Trowa than a full return to health.
"Do you feel sickly when you wake in the morning, with no energy?"
The look on Trowa's face said it all.
The doctor raised his eyes and shook his head.
"Finally", the man said,"Can you tell me what kind of work you have done in the last 10 years Mr Barton?"
The three boys exchanged mutual glances before Trowa finally answered the question.
"I've worked a lot with mobile suits, their technology, and such", Trowa replied, slightly more distantly than he had intended.
"It can't be", the doctor said quietly, shaking his head, dumbfounded, "There is just no way that could happen..."
"What is it?", Trowa prayed, hoping that whatever had happened to him that morning was not fatal. He glimpsed Quatre from the corner of his eye. The poor arab was a quivering wreck, there was no way he could cope with any sort of tragic news.
"It's strange..very strange, but from my findings, it's the only solution i can come up with", the doctor turned toward Trowa. "Mr Barton, you're going to have a child."
"What!", Trowa cried, springing up from the bed, only to be pushed down again by Duo."I can't be pregnant, i'm a boy!"
"When you were working with those mobile suits..."the doctor said softly,"There must have been a malfunction...or a lubricant that leaked into your blood stream in some way...that's the only solution i can think of."
The blood drained from Quatre's face as he glanced at the shaken figure of Trowa. His partner..his lover..his friend..was having a baby. What was he going to do?
Quatre locked eyes with Trowa, frightened at the announcement. But, amidst the shouts from the Heavyarms pilot's bed, and the sharp retorts from the doctor, another thought flickered in the blond eyed boy's mind.
"I am his father?", Quatre mumbled, so softly that no-one could hear him.
"But i'm not ready for a child", Trowa growled, wrapping his arms around his body."How am i going to take care of it?"
"You should have thought about that before you starting playing games", the doctor informed him, picking up his clipboard.
"Excuse me", Duo glared at the ignorant doctor,"Are you implying that my friend here is some sort of user?"
"Of course not", the man replyed coldly,"I was mearly suggesting that he should think before he acts, that's all."
"Well, he hardly expected this outcome!", Duo made a fist. He, like Trowa, was very protective of his friends, and this doctor had just strained a nerve.
"Well, i would hope so", the young doctor snapped as he ran his hands through his hair,"Unless there's something he's not telling you."
He turned to Trowa.
"You may leave when you are ready", he told the shell shocked boy."Please, feel free to return if you need anymore advice."
Duo shook his fist as the curtain was slipped back, and the doctor disapearred.
"He won't be needing any advice from you. I should kill that..", Duo began, outraged that someone should treat a patient like that.
"Leave it Duo", Quatre interrupted,"He's not important enough to bother about. We have to help Trowa."
Duo nodded, giving his full attention once more to the withering wreck that was the Heavyarms pilot.
"But...but i can't have a child", Trowa sobbed, covering his face with the bed covers,"I can't....i'm not ready. Who is going to look after it if i become ill? How can i bring another life into this world, when i can barely keep control of my own? What am i going to do?!"
He burst into tears, the soft silver rainfalls matting his hair, and staining his cheeks.
Quatre slid his arms around Trowa's waist.
"Hush Trowa", he kissed the boy gently,"It'll be alright. We'll get through this somehow...you and me..we'll bring it up together Trowa. Your child. My child. Our child."
Trowa returned Quatre's embrace, grateful to have someone who cared so much about him. But as he settled into Quatre's warm body, he caught eyes with Duo, sensing what his friend was feeling in those deep violet eyes.
"What if...", Trowa's mind flashed back to that night 4 months ago,"What if...Duo is the father of my child?"
Then, Trowa's mind flashed back to a slightly more recent incident...an incident that he had hoped to never have to recall again.
"I won't be able to live with myself if that..that thing is the father of my child", he wept bitterly into Quatre's arms.
Duo cracked his knuckles absent mindedly as he searched his own thoughts, thinking back to the one night he had spent with Trowa. He laid eyes on the embrace between Trowa and Quatre.
"I can't be the father of Trowa's child", he mumbled incohearently,"It'll ruin everything.."
To be continued...
Well, that was chapter one of this fic, i hope you liked it, and that it wasn't too boring! Please, feel free to review, thanks for reading!
p.s. I'm pretty sure the nurses/doctors/operator wouldn't act in this way, it just had to be like this for the story. All credit to the people who brave all conitions and low pay to save our lives.