(Author's Note - Welcome to the first chapter of my fanfic. I've spent hours writing and rewriting it, so if you're reading this then I've finally reached a version I am satisfied with! I appreciate everyone bearing with me while I figure out this whole fanfiction thing. A TON of research goes into my stories as well as throwing in some lived experience. As stated in the description, this story will contain a few OCS which I hope are not too intrusive. I feel it relevant to note, Sam & Max are written as being about 32 years old in this universe, just to fit my personal timeline. There will be some anachronisms and vagueness as to the years things are set in, but I figure, 'just repeat to yourself its just a fic, I should really just relax'. Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day 3)
Chapter 1
Finally announcing the 'big news' seemed to have provided some relief. After that messy breakdown, the pair were able to clean up a little and then finally sleep. So, sleep they did, together like they used to, not with Max as far away on the opposite side as possible and some excuse as to why. The best Sam could guess for the reasoning behind this behavior, was to hide physical changes he was perceiving in his body due to the 'pregnancy'. Now that it was out in the open it didn't matter to him anymore. The lagomorph slept rather fitfully, which was not entirely unusual, mostly random kicking and grumbling. It was a refreshingly standard experience in a very strange situation. The next morning however, is when things would get interesting.
Since deciding he was with child about two weeks ago, Max had adopted a pretty strange secret lifestyle. Stranger than usual that is. He'd developed some pretty strong and specific cravings, explaining all of the sneaking off and the disappearance of most of the office's petty cash. So far 'the baby's' favorite food was an obscure brand of spicy pork rinds from the nearest corner bodega. This was supplemented by pickled sausages and about half of the box of 120 crayons Max kept in his small, childlike desk. As to the latter, he'd originally wanted his sidewalk chalk that had disappeared a few months ago, 'for calcium'. Unable to find them, they'd secretly been thrown out due to complaints over inappropriate, publicly viewable drawings, he had substituted the crayons. They had been eaten 'peeled' of course, his stomach being unable to handle all that roughage otherwise. This was all washed down with the usual, cheap sugary soda and juice that amounted to little more than vaguely fruity liquid chemicals. During this period he also admitted to going off his medication, just as suspected, deciding it was 'bad for the baby' and 'would go back on them after it was born', a day that would never come. This was a sensitive case, with one half of the Freelance Police's very sanity and well being hanging in the balance. They'd require a very special type of consultation.
In the nearly three years since Sam had met Darla 'the Geek' Gugenheek, he'd become convinced she'd saved them rather than the other way around. Just a few months ago they'd had some renovations done on the 'Sub Basement of Solitude' to convert a portion into a sterile medical center. It was a great idea, as often as one of them had to come to the young girl for a few stitches or a dislocated something or other. Currently Sam sat outside this ersatz private clinic in a slightly undersized chair. Involuntarily he found himself emitting a small, puppylike whine, as he worried about his partner being examined inside. The Geek had asked to see Max alone to 'better assess his mental state', whatever that meant, and run a few tests. Its not that Sam doubted her abilities, but sitting out here alone for the past hour fretting, was taking a toll. All he could think about was when Max first had gotten 'sick', almost twenty years ago. It was the summer he turned twelve and the lowest point of either of their lives.
That evening was odd in the fact Max had declined staying the night at his best friends house, and as they would find out the following morning, failed to return to his own. Since he'd never done anything like this before, there was little clue as to where he could have gone. The police quickly became involved and a search dragged on for three anxious days. On the morning of the fourth he was finally found, filthy and incoherent in a wooded area several miles from home. Taken to a local hospital, it was determined the boy had suffered a psychotic break, and was admitted to the pediatric psychiatry unit. When later asked he had no recollection of what had actually happened, so no one would ever really know. Confusing and scary as the situation was, this was a turning point in their relationship. Sam remembered this being the moment he decided he would care for Max for the rest of their lives, no matter what condition he returned to him in. Friendship was rapidly blossoming into feelings, though neither was sure exactly what that entailed. One thing was certain however, there was no way around it, whatever hardships they faced, now and in the future, they would be together forever.
Eight weeks of treatment later, Max was discharged into the care of his aunt. Grace didn't know her nephew well, at all really, but had a decent job and modest home and was willing to give it a shot. Divorced and unable to have children of her own, she'd try to pick things up where her younger sister had failed. Medication compliance had been a major concern. Since the age of six, the young rabbit had been prescribed Ritalin, which was it well documented he was rarely if ever given. His hyperactivity interfered with his school work and when called in to discuss the matter, the parents were at best indifferent. They had a large number of kits, Max being one of the younger ones, and both struggled with mental health and addiction. There wasn't time, resources or interest in supporting this 'runt' who they freely admitted was 'an accident'. Some speculated the mother had drank during this particular pregnancy, but there was no official conformation. His diagnoses didn't really matter though, in the bigger picture, the boy's life was far from over. Even with new labels like 'childhood schizophrenia', it was in fact, just beginning.
Max's new home was, undenounced to him all these years, just a couple of blocks from Sam's house. He remembered meeting aunt Grace once when he was really small, but had no idea where she lived. Her life was uneventful, with a job in medical billing and a two bedroom ranch style house, more room than she'd ever need. Under her care Max seemed to thrive, he had his own bedroom for the first time, was fed properly and kept to the treatment plan laid out by his doctors. Grace had become well acquainted with Sam, his dearest friend and quickly understood why he was so enamored with the boy. Not only was he ridiculously sweet and tolerant, if a bit overprotective, he came from a wonderful family that treated Max like another son. They wiled away the remainder of their vacation, engrossed in imaginative play in the back yard of one of their residences. It varied from cowboys to astronauts and had most recently developed into an amusing 'buddy cop' routine. Late August rolled around, and they celebrated Max's birthday at the local family entertainment center. There was plenty of cake, pizza, arcade games and twitchy animatronic mascots, everything a kid could hope for. The boys started school soon after, at a new junior high and before they knew it, months turned into years. They went through literal hell and back together, loved and fought and married at least once, bringing us to where we are now in present day.
"Sam?", the canine was brought back to reality by the Geek who, finished with her examination had come to give him the news.
"Did you fall asleep out here?", she asked, "I don't blame you if you did with the interesting night you had.".
Sam reflexivity yawned, "I felt like I was in some kind of flashback sequence, so I guess I must have.".
His adoptive daughter gave him a bemused smile, "So are you ready for my verdict then?", she motioned to the door of her office, "Come on in.".
He struggled to his feet, body stiff from the impromptu nap and followed her inside. The room was freezing and he shuddered under his fur.
"You keep it awful cold in here, don't you think?", Sam commented as he was led to a small, curtained off area where his other half was being kept.
"It inhibits bacterial growth.", the Geek explained, pulling the curtain open, "Plus your not used to wearing t-shirts.".
That was true, he'd been a little strapped for casual clothing this morning, the laundry needed attention too. His current, short sleeved 'Chili Dogs For Charity 1994 Champion', shirt was far from his usual attire. Paired with ratty blue sweatpants, it was not a dignified look.
"Sam!", Max exclaimed, he was sitting on an exam table with several bandages on his arms, "You gotta bust me out of here, I feel like some kinda lab...rabbity thing.". He'd had blood drawn, which had clearly taken a few tries.
"You're dehydrated, not surprising with the amount of sodium in those pork rinds.", the Geek said sitting down in her desk chair. She'd been brought a sample of said snack food just in cased it contained anything that could shed light on the situation. Not really, it turned out. They mostly consisted of an impressive amount of calories, salt and at least one preservative proven to cause birth defects in test animals. Max was lucky he wasn't actually pregnant.
"But he's okay otherwise?", Sam asked hopefully.
"This is Max we're talking about.", the Geek assured him, "You could probably drop him into a volcano and he'd be fine.".
Max giggled, "There was that one time.", he remembered. He was clearly in better spirits which was good to see.
"And you'll have plenty of other chances to almost get yourself killed.", the Geek said crossing her arms, "But first we need to address the main issue.".
"She means our baby, Sam!", Max squealed, hugging his belly with a look of pure joy, "We can buy him little outfits, and get him on a waiting list for a good preschool. You know how competitive things are here in New York City and I'm not sending him to public school".
Sam almost wanted to laugh, he would have if this wasn't so serious.
"Him? What if its a girl Max? You don't even like girls.", he mused.
"You know I'd love our child unconditionally.", the lagomorph countered with an indignant huff, "But I'm carrying pretty low, the latest issue of Motherhood Monthly said that means its a boy.".
"Anyway!", the Geek interjected to get the derailed conversation back on track, "We need a few things to help deal with this situation. Plus I have a feeling the DeSoto is in desperate need of a tune up and the house is disgusting. I've typed up what all we need so it should be pretty easy. Think you can handle a mission to Mall-Mart?".
Sam & Max could handle any mission and there was no over crowded, big box store they were afraid of. Before they'd left Max had to go to the bathroom. This was a satisfactory result of the half liter of electrolyte solution he'd been coerced into drinking, on the threat of intravenous rehydration. Water that tastes like 'crying grapes' wasn't great, but was better than the alternative of more needles. This gave the Geek a few moments to talk to Sam privately. She'd printed him a list of essential purchases and advised him to keep playing along with the delusion for now. It was fine for Max to go with him to the store, but don't let him walk around too much. He was still a little delicate and at risk of fainting, something no one needed. They could swing back around at 4pm and pick her up, she'd have the test results compiled by then. From there they would decide on the next step. Barring some weird hormonal imbalance, it was just a matter of getting him properly medicated again. Most importantly, they'd all spend some time together this weekend, everyone was working far too much these days.
"Careful!", Max complained as he was being helped into the shopping carts child seat.
That was one of the last things Sam expected him to ever say, but nothing really surprised him now. Normally the little rabbit would have just scrambled up there himself, no problem, today he requested to carefully seated. That was after another pit stop, before they began their shopping. The list was fairly normal with a few specific pharmacy items. They needed more Pedialyte, particular brands of antacids and pro biotics, Tylenol for some reason. What Max was perceiving as 'morning sickness', was actually no more than a bout of mild gastritis brought on from excessive consumption of 'dehydrogenated jalapeno oil'. As long as he was protected from himself, he'd be fine in a few days. Much of what else was require were cleaning supplies. No detergent, dish or laundry, had been purchased in at least a month. Things like tropical citrus, 'flavored' bleach, as Max put it, a new broom, as the last had not survived 'the great broom war' and a couple of containers of disinfectant wipes were added to the cart.
"Look!", Max cried out in his most saccharine voice, he pointed toward a display of baby clothes he'd spotted, "Lemme see em!".
Sam didn't suppose it would hurt to look. Some of the stuff was pretty cute after all, he'd never really thought much about how small babies started out. The last time he'd really handled one was decades ago, when his little sister Sadie was born.
"Saaamm!", Max cooed, holding up a onesie that would almost fit him, "Its perfect!". Said article of clothing was white and patterned with...were those tiny carrots?
"I dunno little buddy.', Sam replied, they didn't have any actual use for it.
"Pleeeease!", his fluffy husband whined, threatening to cry again.
"Okay, okay.", Sam surrendered, he liked making Max happy more than he liked avoiding pointless buying. It wasn't that expensive and they could donate it to charity when this was all said and done. A smaller size was selected, not that it mattered, and they moved on before anything else caught his eye.
The thrill of his first baby shopping soon wore off and Max was getting bored, so he started talking about baby names.
"What about Jimothy or Donathan?", he asked, rubbing his stomach which was less bloated then before, "Ooh, how about Muffin, just in case its a girl? And a dog.".
"We dogs don't actually give our kids names like Muffin.", Sam corrected.
"But you have a great uncle Pepper.", Max replied as they rounded a corner and into the food section of the store.
Sam was pretty sure he was actively trying to annoy him at this point, but you could never quite be sure with Max.
"How about we move on to the grocery portion of this excursion?", the increasingly hungry dog suggested. Coffee and a stale donut did not a breakfast make. Not even a good donut mind you, one of those plain cake ones no one wanted when they were bought fresh.
"I want pork roll!", Max demanded, "The little foil wrapped slices you put in the toaster!".
"You are a pork roll Max.", his canine counterpart replied, "A pork roll that has to start taking care of himself.".
This was met with grumpy resistance but reminding him it was 'for the baby', made him much more agreeable. Not happy with his dietary restrictions, but surprisingly willing to tolerate them.
"Tell me we're at least getting McGuffins.", Max said as they passed through the snack food aisle, "We didn't make all that effort to not eat them. They even got the new barbeque beef flavor!".
"Its not McGuffin day. What's the use for McGuffin day if we eat them all the time.", Sam reminded him and handed him a box of animal crackers, "Don't pretend you don't like these. I still remember when you bit that kid in third grade over one.".
Not that Sam wouldn't go for a McGuffin, or a dozen, right now. Damn his tendency to stress eat. He'd have to be strong just like any time they faced a problem and it couldn't last too much longer. For the moment they'd take it one day at a time, loading up on a disappointing array of foodstuffs, in preparation for an equally depressing meal. It wouldn't be detrimental to either of them to 'detox' a bit off so much junk food, they'd been told. Basic carbs, white meat, a little cheese...as a treat, whatever kale is. Fancy lettuce they figured. The Geek had a few specific things she wanted, one of them being ice cream. That wasn't weird, everyone likes ice cream.
"Never took her for a Quadruple Chocolate Sea Salt Caramel kinda gal.", Sam said with a chuckle, having finally located the requested flavor.
"Get me Ragin' Rainbow, it tastes like mysteries!", Max yelled pointing out a particularly garishly colored frozen treat.
He could have a little, no point in making him completely miserable. It probably wouldn't come back up either, not like the 'sauerkraut sundae' he'd insisted on last weekend had. The smell...Sam doubted he had the mental fortitude to handle a mess like that again. These next few days would be smooth sailing though, he could feel it. Surely the worst was over for everyone. They'd have a nice family dinner and lay around watching bad movies, then after tomorrow the house would be in tip top shape. Okay Max wouldn't be much help, but cleanliness would triumph all the same. Since the pair were owed time off, starting next week they would...they would figure it out then. No way anything could go wrong, luck would surely be a lady to the Freelance Police, and after some well earned R&R they'd be back on the case in no time.
