Ch 4
~ Henry struggled and struggled, but his eyes wouldn't open. He couldn't move.
He could hear multiple people
around him, but he didn't recognize their language. He spoke a few languages himself,
but he didn't know what it was they were saying. He felt pressure on his midsection and willed and willed himself more awake. One eye finally creaked open and stayed open. He was in an operating room lying
on the table, blue drape covering most of what he could see of himself. Three people were in the room
with him. He couldn't move. He could only roll his eye around. One imposing figure was leaning
over his torso, deep in the middle of whatever operation they were doing on him. He couldn't feel pain,
so he was thankful for that at least. One of the others noticed his eye and spoke in their language to
the doctor, who mumbled something in response. Wait, the doctor's voice was familiar-
The last person came over to his arm and lifted it up enough for him to see the
catheter in place. This person had a syringe of clear liquid that they inserted into the catheter,
and then Henry saw no more. ~
Henry shot up in bed, looking around wildly. He shook his head as his brain registered that he was in his own room, not being operated on. That dream had been intense. Why was he being operated on? What language were they speaking? Why did the doctor seem familiar somehow? Glancing at his phone for the time, Henry sighed as he got out of bed and thought of Ian. Their call wasn't until the afternoon for him so he hoped work could occupy him until then. It had before, after all.
Suddenly Henry's stomach gave a lurch and he slapped a hand over his mouth, sprinting for the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before heaving up the entire contents of his stomach. He slumped to the side of the toilet, dizzy. Where had that come from? He barely ever got hurt, but he also never got sick. He was much too vaccinated for that. He sat for a few minutes as the dizziness slowly evaporated and his stomach settled. He felt okay, so he stood and got into the shower. He supposed he could take his temperature later if symptoms persisted.
The day started out slow and dragged on from there. There were no more smiles from Henry, and people noticed. He was back to how he had always been. Cold, distant, unapproachable. Ian Malcolm sure had made a difference, hadn't he?
If only they knew.
Henry went to his room a few minutes before Ian was to call and paced. He had his phone in his hand and kept looking at it, though it would ring loudly when Ian called. Why was he so nervous? Ian would call. He wouldn't forget that quickly, would he? What if Henry was just another fuck and run? It had been so much more for Henry, though. He wanted to be around Ian, he wanted to hold him and kiss him-
The noise of his phone ringing startled Henry and he sucked in a breath as he fumbled for a second.
"Henry!" Ian's face lit up the screen.
"Ian!" Henry said with audible relief.
"What, you thought I wouldn't call?" Ian asked in a teasing tone.
"Well..."
"Henry Wu. I made a promise and I'm, uh, not going to break it."
Everything about Ian put Henry at ease now. It was amazing and terrifying that his life had changed so drastically in just a week.
"You better not. How are you feeling? Jet lagged?"
Ian laughed a little. "I was so uh, used to it at one point in my life. Now that I'm getting older... it's ah, getting worse again. Nothing I can't handle."
"Good. I-" Henry paused, wondering if he should even bring up his strange dream or the fact that he'd vomited that morning. He decided on just the dream, describing it in excruciating detail.
"That's a lot of people's fear, uh, you know. Waking up during surgery and ah, not being able to do anything."
"I know. But I wasn't hurting. It was all so strange." Henry sighed.
"Dreams, ah, can be indicators of subconscious desires or hmmm, problems your mind is trying to work through."
"I don't need surgery though. I always have something puzzling through my mind. My dreams have never felt this real before."
"Well you have had sex for the first time in years. Maybe that has something to do with it."
Henry frowned, brows furrowed. "I don't think that would affect me this much. Whatever, let's talk about something else." He was just going to forget it; he didn't put much stock in reading dreams.
They talked for another two hours before Henry had to head off to a meeting. The goodbyes and promises to call tomorrow lasted a long time, too.
Three months and Ian would be back.
Ian did keep his promise and called everyday. He started sending regular texts that soon morphed into sexts, and from there into elaborate role play scenarios. After the first week of such texts, as soon as Henry heard Ian's message tone he excused himself from whatever he was doing to escape to his room or the nearest bathroom he could lock himself in. On more than one occasion it turned into a video call.
Everything was actually doing well for Henry until two weeks after Ian left. He woke up one morning and stood, stretching his arms over his head when a wave of nausea came over him. He ran to the bathroom and almost slipped on the tile as he curled over the toilet. He heaved for a few minutes and then slumped against the side once more.
What had he eaten?!
This time his energy seemed to be sapped right out of him. He would maybe skip his morning jog this morning. Yes, that was an excellent idea. Instead of a shower, Henry opted for a hot, soothing bath. He fell back asleep in it and woke up with a start, looking at his watch. He was late?! Scrambling out of the tub, Henry scurried out to get clothes on and start his day.
In that night's video call, Henry was feeling hornier than usual. He decided to subtly let this be known by licking his lips, rubbing his chest, and giving Ian bedroom eyes. Eventually the older doctor caught on and they masturbated to each other.
The next morning, and for a week of mornings, Henry got up and had to vomit. He monitored what he ate, but changing things around didn't seem to help. Sure there was a human doctor on every island, but Henry wouldn't stoop to that if he could help it. They were all idiots as far as he was concerned. He kept it from Ian and pushed on, even when the next week he had to wake up during the night sometimes to empty the contents of his stomach.
Finally, a month after Ian had left, the sickness in the mornings stopped and everything went back to normal. But then the cravings started. Henry had never been one to indulge himself, so this was entirely foreign to him. He always ate healthy, but he was craving the processed shit that everyone else ate. He would find himself hoarding snacks in his room, in his office, in strange places in the labs everywhere. He wouldn't even remember doing it, but he would suddenly be reaching for a bag of chips in the drawer where test tubes were kept. He denied himself actually eating the snacks for as long as he could, but then later that day he would be so hungry despite eating regular, healthy food throughout the day. He indulged hard. At night Ian sometimes caught him eating a snack during their calls. He encouraged it, claiming that Henry needed to loosen up in more ways than one. Live a little. Eat crap sometimes.
And of course, the inevitable happened. Henry started gaining weight. It wasn't too noticeable at first, and he ran harder every morning, but the roundness of his middle continued to swell. He ignored it and ignored it and maybe held his phone at angles that didn't show his midsection when talking to Ian. Why did all of his clothes have to be form fitting?! On his 5'5" rather petite frame, the weight started to get noticeable. And he just felt heavy. He almost felt like he was an iceberg, with just a little bit showing on the outside and most of the mass inside. Jogging at his usual pace was getting harder and he just felt out of breath easier. He couldn't stop eating; he had never been this hungry in his life.
Had he accidentally injected himself with something? An appetite stimulant, maybe? No, he never accidentally did anything. What was it, then?
Near the end of the second month Ian had been away, Henry was quite round in his midsection. He wore lab coats that were much too big for him and sat a lot more than he usually did. His morning jogs were getting shorter until they became morning walks.
On the first night of the third month, the last month until Ian came back, Henry decided that maybe he should do bloodwork on himself. The machines in the lab weren't calibrated for humans, but a few quick adjustments fixed that. Henry drew his blood and set the machines to work, waiting impatiently and eating at least three chocolate bars in the mean time.
All of the results were normal, save for a few slightly elevated levels easily explained by his horrendous diet as of late. What would Ian think? He would probably tell him to go to the human doctor. Or maybe that it was a tumor. Henry knew that a benign tumor wouldn't grow this quickly, which could only mean cancer. But at this advanced stage there was no indication in the bloodwork. Maybe he could open himself up and take a sample-
Suddenly Henry was reminded of that dream two months ago. Weird. Well, opening himself up to cut out a sample was a stupid idea, and why was Henry having stupid ideas?! He never had stupid ideas. He was too smart for that! Why was this happening to him?! Why was he too stubborn to go to the human doctor?! Why did Ian have to be gone for so long?!
WHY WAS EVERYTHING SO TERRIBLE ALL OF THE SUDDEN?!
Henry ground his teeth together for a moment before stomping his way to the common area. He was furious at himself for reasons he couldn't fathom and he knew there was a cake in the fridge for someone's birthday tomorrow, but fuck it, it was his. Henry grabbed the whole thing and a fork and stomped his way to his room, throwing himself on his bed and angrily stabbing at the cake, shoveling it into his mouth.
Halfway through the cake he broke down crying, tears mixing in with the frosting.
Why was he letting himself go like this? He had been fit his entire life. That was who he was. But not anymore. Ian was going to hate him and how fat he'd gotten and leave as soon as he landed on the island. Maybe it was best to break the news to him immediately so at least Henry wouldn't get his heart broken in person. It was late and they'd already had their chat, but Henry called anyway. He continued to sob and shovel cake into his face, not stopping when Ian sleepily answered the video call.
"Henry, what's wrong?" Ian asked, sounding concerned and also tired. He perked up upon seeing that Henry was indeed crying.
"Henry?"
"Ian, I'm going to missyoubecauseyou'llhatemeforbeingfat but I can't help it! I CAN'T STOP EATING AND I'M RUINING MYSELF AND I'M DISGUSTING and you'regoingtobreakupwithmetonight ANDI'LLNEVER SEE YOU AGAINBECAUSEYOU'LLNEVER STEP FOOT-foot on the islands a-again!" Henry alternated between sobbing and raging, sobbing winning out after he was done. Why. How. What. Was wrong with him?! He was acting the opposite of himself and it was frightening.
"Henry, look at me, look at me cutie pie," Ian said, his calm tone piercing through a little of Henry's misery.
"Ian, I don't want to lose you," the younger doctor sniffed, calmer for the moment.
"You're not? All I got was that you can't stop eating and you think you're disgusting? Henry, I don't care how fat or skinny you are. But, uh, you haven't been showing me your body for a while. Let me see now," Ian said.
Henry's eyes welled up with tears again. "NO! You're going to hate me!" Ugh, why was he like this?!
"Dr. Wu, I have, ah, never seen you like this before. Did something happen?" There was real concern in Ian's voice and face now. Henry instantly felt terrible for making him worry.
"No, nothing happened, forget it," Henry went to press 'end call'.
"WAIT! Henry, something is uh, going on with you. Let me at least see you."
Henry's face scrunched up. He had called Ian to have his heart broken, he couldn't stop now could he?
"Alright, fine. Here you go," Henry grumbled, anger winning for a second. Why were his emotions such a rollercoaster? It was exhausting.
Laying back on the bed, Henry shuffled his body around until he found a comfortable position. He got his phone again and aimed it at his face first, showing his alternating expressions before slowly holding it out as far as his arm would allow. He slowly moved the phone down lower and hovered over his midsection, which he had decided made him look-
"Wow, uh, ah, you look uh, ah, uh... pregnant."
The word hit him in a strange way for some reason. He had never said it out loud to himself, so it was strange to hear now. A male, being pregnant?! He had heard of trans males giving birth before, but not a cisgender male. It just wasn't biologically possible.
Henry brought the phone up to his face again. "I know! THAT'S THE PROBLEM! I'VE BEEN EATING REGULAR FOOD BUT ALSO vast quantities of junk food and it'shardformetojoginthemorningandIFEELHEAVY all the time." Henry dissolved into tears, his hands jostling the phone around.
"Henry, baby. There's nothing wrong with letting yourself go in trying times. You miss me, right? And your abandonment issues have probably pushed you just a tad too far recently. It's okay, though. Just one more month and I'll be back, uh, okay? I'm here for you. You wanna talk a little longer?"
Ian's voice was so calming. "Yeah, just talk at me for a while. You can even talk about chaos," Henry sniffled. He set his phone aside to settle himself more in the bed. He propped the phone up and listened to Ian talking in calming tones until he fell asleep.
