Boyue's Note: Hello, everyone! Thank you very much for your continuous support and reviews. I'm trying my best to pick up this story where I left off, but it has been three years already so there's bound to be some changes in my writing as well as PLOT HOLES. Please bear with me. Onward with Pip's pregnancy! Geronimo!

MATERNAL HEART

"The Third Trimester…

We All Fall Down"

Damien can't do it. He can't tell Pip the truth. He can't look into those bright blue eyes and know that he will take away the happiness and the hope for the future from them. He just can't. He keeps his hands cupped on Pip's cheeks and strokes the hotter-than-normal skin with his fingertips. When he tries to man the fuck up and speak, the words get stuck in his throat, and he's left staring at Pip with an open mouth.

"Love, are you alright?" Pip frowns, leaning forward a bit so that their foreheads are touching. Pip feels like he's running a fever and not realizing it. "You said you need to tell me something?"

Shit. He can't. No, he has to! The fate of the world depends on it! Except that it doesn't. The world will go on with or without Damien the Anti-Christ. He knows he's not that important to the whole Good versus Evil battle. He just inherits the title and is expected to play his part when the time comes. Who knows – maybe his kid will make for a better Anti-Christ. He certainly hasn't set the bar too high.

"Damien? You're looking awful. What's the matter? Please, dear… tell me."

Damien licks his lips and makes up his mind. He slaps on an easy-going smile and holds Pip's face close to him. "Promise you won't be mad?"

"Of course. Yes, I promise I won't be mad. Now please, dear, tell me what's bothering you. I'm awfully worried..."

"Well, I kind of don't have the money right now to buy a ring so you're going to have to wait," Damien says. It isn't what he should have told Pip, but it's also sadly the truth. He really doesn't have the money to afford wedding rings. Hell, he barely has enough money to afford rent because of all the baby shit they needed to get.

Pip leans back with his brows tight in a deep frown. Damien is worried for a moment there that Pip is actually upset about the lack of a ring. He has never known Pip to be the materialistic kind (except for his odd liking to collect antique tea cups), but this is a marriage proposal they're talking about, and he supposes he should've at least gotten something to put on Pip's hand. He remembers that Kenny has offered to lend him money if he should ever need it even though he seriously doubts that Kenny has that much money.

"Is that all this is about then?" Pip asks, still with the frown on his face. He breaks the frown soon enough and lets out a little huff. "You silly, silly man! I don't care for a silly ring if that's what worries you. As long as I have your promise and love, it's enough."

"You sure?" Damien takes one of Pip's hands into his and strokes over the ring finger in long, steady strokes. "Doesn't everyone normally want a ring to show off? You know, haha, I'm in love and getting married and you aren't, loser?"

"I suppose they normally do," Pip chuckles and gives an agreeing nod. He switches his hand so he's interlocking his fingers with Damien. "But, Damien, we have never quite been normal, have we?"

"I guess not." Damien grins and hides the fact that Pip's words have just hit him like a truck. He will never be able to give Pip a normal life. They'll never live in a white picket fence house with daisies and rose bushes on their front yard. They'll never have barbeque in the summer with their friends and neighbors while their respective kids play Tag with each other. Forget about being President one day, he can't even be sure he'll live long enough to get into law school if he doesn't come up with a solution soon. He opens his arms and gathers Pip into his embrace as much as he can in their sitting position and with the baby bump in the way. Pip sighs contently and flutters his eyes close.

"You're all I need," Pip whispers. "You and the baby."

Damien just tucks his chin in and places it on top of Pip's head, inhaling the faint residue of honey shampoo. To an outsider, it might look like a picture perfect moment, but Damien is well aware that the fuse is running out of length and the bomb is about to go off. He squeezes his eyes tight when Pip flinches and lets out a pained whimper. Pip doesn't have to tell him - he knows the baby is kicking. Shit, he practically feels the kick thanks to the demonic energy radiating off Pip's abdomen. He pulls Pip closer and mentally hits himself over and over for not being able to help and protect his darling Brit.

He runs a heavy hand through Pip's tangled hair and tries to undo knots in them. His eyes scan the table and briefly linger on the silver bottle of glue.

Winter is coming hard and it's coming hard. The temperature has dropped over ten degrees in just two weeks. Snowfall has blanketed the small town in complete whiteness and casts a stillness that's too irritating for comfort.

Damien groans as he rummages through his drawers to find something to wear. He would usually settle for a nice t-shirt but unfortunately Pip has staked claims to a lot of his clothes over the months due to his growing size. They picked up a few things from the maternity store, but Pip mostly prefers to wear Damien's shirt. He says it's because they're worn in and smells like him, and Damien doesn't mind that much except for now when he can't find a damn thing to wear. He lets out a little sigh of victory when he finds an old grey turtleneck tucked beneath the crumpled "I Didn't Ask To Be the Anti-Christ But If The Crown Fits" t-shirt that his dad got him for his eighteenth birthday. Why he hasn't thrown that shirt away or shred it into a million pieces is beyond him, but he does chuckle bitterly when he thinks how much it's reflecting his mood lately.

He dresses quickly and grabs everything he needs before he walks out of the bedroom. It's so fucking cold today that he hasn't wanted to leave his bed, let alone go outside. But it's getting harder and harder to pretend nothing is wrong. He can't keep saying "it's normal" when Pip complains that the baby is kicking too much. He can't keep waking up in the middle of the night and freaking the fuck out when Pip is staring at him with red eyes. He can't keep teasing that it's only Pip's imagination when his tea tastes chalky because of the herb Dr. Ralph prescribed. He can't keep coming up with excuses why objects in the house end up in places they don't belong. He can't keep holding Pip and rocking him back and forth while Pip cries in his arms because he's in so much pain.

At this rate, he doesn't think he can make it before the baby arrives. If driving Damien insane is one of the baby's steps in usurping the Anti-Christ throne, he's gotten give it to the kid – it's working wonderfully.

Damien stops by the bathroom and knocks it twice before he announces, "Pip, I'm going out now. You need anything?"

"Oh, right-o, dear," Pip calls from the other end of the door. "The door is open, by the way!"

Damien twists the knob and steps in to find Pip soaking in the bathtub. The air is stuffy with steam but has a light trace of lavender. Pip smiles warmly at him and reaches out a hand to summon Damien closer. Damien obeys and walks over before he kneels down so he can take Pip's hand. With the warm bath, Pip's skin feels even hotter than it normally is. He brings Pip's hand up to his mouth and gives it a gentle peck. He tries not to look at Pip's naked body beneath the water surface and focuses more how he likes the way Pip's cheeks are flushed and how the moisture makes his lips look extra kissable.

"So anything you need?" Damien asks.

"Oh, no, I'm quite alright, thank you," Pip chirps. "I just wanted to see you before you leave, is all."

"Well, here I am." Damien pulls back a little and presents himself with a playful grin. "Anything else you want to do with me before I leave?"

"I suppose there is one more thing…" Pip leans out of the tub as much as he can and presses his lips tight to Damien's.

Damien smiles when they break the kiss and licks his lips. He will never stop loving the way Pip just tastes so good. It's like he's physically made out of sugar and spice and everything nice. He cups Pip's cheek and pulls him in one more time for another kiss, savoring the sensation and the blissful pretense that shit hasn't gone down. Pip giggles afterward and leans back into the tub.

"Be safe, love," Pip says.

"You too."

The cold air slaps him in the face as soon as he steps outside the apartment. He tucks his neck in like a turtle and hurries his way through the heavy snowfall with his hands deep in his pockets. He crosses the train track and enters the shitty side of town. He jogs the rest of the way to Kenny's trailer, hoping that the movement will bring some feelings back into his extremities. He likes his fingers and toes, thank you very much. He takes a second to refill his lungs with air outside the trailer. Feeling cold and needing air? Wow, he's really gotten used to acting like a human.

"Kenny," he calls out as he knocks on the trailer door. "Open up."

There is the familiar shuffling inside the trailer before the door opens and Kenny shows his face. Damien instantly frowns when he sees that Kenny's only wearing his usual orange parka with a pair of jeans that is definitely too thin for this kind of weather. He makes a mental note that he really needs to take Kenny out one of these days and show him the gratitude that he deserves. He didn't even bring the good beer that he's previously said he'd bring. What a fucking shitty friend he's turning out to be.

"You got here fast," Kenny greets as he steps out of the way to let Damien in. "I didn't even have time to bake us a casserole."

"I wouldn't eat anything you cook if someone pays me a million dollar," Damien scoffs and makes a disgusted face. He shudders at the realization that inside of the trailer is just cold as the outside. He takes a quick look of the small trailer and notices something very important is missing. "Where the fuck is your heater? How are your balls not freezing?"

It takes two tries before Kenny can close the trailer door completely. It helps with the temperature a little but it's still colder than hell inside the metal box. "Oh, Cartman broke his so he borrowed mine. Hey, aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Borrowed?" Damien's lips curl into a snarl. Eric Cartman does not borrow. Eric Cartman takes what he wants and never thinks twice about the people he's stepping over. Damien wants to scream. On one hand, he can applaud Kenny's giving spirit. On the other, he just wants to punch him in the face for being a push-over. He will never understand what Kenny sees in Cartman. "Are you out of your mind? And my shift starts at 11 so we still have some time."

"It's cool, dude. I don't really care. That old junk wasn't working that well anyway and aww, so sweet of you to take the time out to see me," Kenny says. "I'm flattered." He settles on his bed and wraps his sheets around him. Out of respect for Kenny's dignity, Damien pretends he doesn't see that is a sign that Kenny's cold. Once Kenny's all settled in, he immediately asks, "How's Pip doing?"

"He's the same, I guess. Chirpy, British, possessed by my demonic kid," Damien sighs. He lets out a pathetic chuckle and presses two fingers against his temple. "He's gotten bigger and he's eating more." Getting stronger, he wants to add but ultimately decides against it. The thought of his kid getting more powerful scares him more than he'd like to admit. He knows realistically that it's not like the baby will come after him the moment it's born. But if the baby already possesses this kind of power at a fetal stage, he doesn't think there is a future for him to imagine.

"Whatever happened to telling him the truth?" Kenny asks. He pulls up his hood and pushes some stray hair out of his face. Like Pip, Kenny can really use a haircut as well.

"I couldn't do it. I can't make him choose between me and the baby."

"Uh, Damien," Kenny is using that tone that means Damien is about to get an ass-beating, "you realize that this isn't about you and the baby and whoever gets to be the Anti-Christ, right? It's about Pip. He's the one who's in the most danger right now. You told me what Doctor-What's-His-Face said. The longer the baby stays in Pip, the worse it'll be for him."

"Fuck," Damien breathes out. He won't deny that he tries to push that possibility as far back in his mind as possible. He keeps thinking he can use the herb to control the baby's power and that everything will be okay and he can deal with the baby when it actually arrives. He hasn't wanted to accept the fact that Pip can die before that happens. Well, fuck that shit. If the baby is threatening Pip's life, it has to go. End of story. "I know. Yeah, I know… I just thought…"

"You can't keep postponing this," Kenny says. He reaches over and puts a hand on Damien's knee. "Tell him. Trust me, Pip will know what to do. It's his life and let's face it, he's a lot of smarter than you are."

Damien scoffs at Kenny's little bite at him. He exhales through his mouth. Kenny is right; Kenny is always right. He hates that bastard for always being right. He pats Kenny's hand lightly, frowning at how cold Kenny feels, before Kenny pulls his hand back and hides it under the sheets.

"I'll tell him tonight. I'll get Dr. Ralph up here and we're ending this tonight."

"Good," Kenny says. After a short pause, he asks, "Do you want me to be there?"

Damien chews the inside of his lip and lowers his eyes. If it was up to him, hell yeah he wants Kenny to be there. Pip, on the other hand, doesn't even know that Damien is sneaking off to see Kenny right now. Pip is already pissed enough the last time he caught them talking and Damien really doesn't want to know what will happen when that anger is mixed with demonic power. Before he gives a verbal answer, Kenny shrugs and waves him off with his hand.

"Just call if you need me," Kenny suggests instead. He flashes a lopsided grin and says, "Or if you finally feel like taking me out to dinner. Like you promised."

"I'll take you out to dinner if you get your heater back from Cartman."

Kenny rolls his eyes and throws his head back in exasperation. "Let it go, dude. It's just an old piece of junk."

"It's the principle of things," Damien says. "You can't let him keep walking over you like that."

"I'll get the heater back if you get me beer," Kenny says, pointing a finger at Damien, "like you promised."

"I'll get you beer if you get your PSP back."

"Well I would have my PSP back by now if someone who said he'd help me steal it back actually helps me steal it back."

"Okay, fine, let's go now." Damien stands and gestures that he's ready to break into some houses.

"I thought you have work," Kenny says but he's also getting up and breaking out of his sheets like a butterfly out of a cocoon.

"Work can wait," Damien says as dramatically as he can as he heads for the door. "We got shit to steal."

The apartment smells like brown sugar and cocoa. Damien cautiously pokes his head in and takes a quick survey of the inside. He's still buzzing with adrenaline from breaking into Cartman's house earlier during the day but that can't possibly lead him to walking into the wrong apartment, can it? Last time he checked Pip isn't a baker, and he's pretty sure that demonic possessions don't usually involve gaining a sudden interest in baking. He wanders into the kitchen and smiles, though with some suspicion, at the plates of chocolate chips cookies with macadamia nuts on the counter top with a handwritten note from Pip. He picks up a cookie and nibbles on it while he reads through Pip's cheesy but very Pip-esque "Sweets for my sweet!" message.

"The cookies taste great," Damien calls out though he isn't sure where Pip is in the apartment. It's great that Pip's learning to bake; he's been picking up more hobbies lately now that he's more or less confined at home all day due to the baby. Last week he was knitting a maroon yarn hat for the baby, and the day before, he was trying to learn how to play CLUE properly. Damien thinks any hobby is great really. It keeps Pip occupied doing productive things instead of levitating objects and speaking in tongues.

On cue, Pip comes out from the bedroom with a beaming smile and waddles over to join him in the kitchen. Damien flicks his eyes down to check on the baby bump before he greets Pip with an equally beaming smile and dips his head so Pip can kiss his cheek without having to tiptoe. "Welcome home, dear! I certainly hope the cookies aren't too sweet. It's been so long since I've baked anything."

"They taste amazing, they really do." To prove his point, Damien pops the entire cookie in his mouth and swallows it down quickly before he picks up another one and bites half way into it. "So what's the occasion?"

"Oh, come now, do I need a reason to bake some treats for my fiancé?" Pip pouts his lips for a moment before he breaks into a wide smile. He moves toward the fridge and asks, "Would you like some milk, love?"

Damien nods yes and lets the word "fiancé" wash over him. Sure, he's proposed to Pip but it still hasn't registered in his mind that they are going to be husbands eventually. He still thinks of Pip only in the term of "boyfriend" and "the guy who's carrying my demon child." Not that he's regretting proposing to Pip, but he wonders if he shouldn't have really thought it over before he made that kind of commitment. Pip comes back with two tall glasses of milk and gives him another kiss on the cheek before handing one over. Damien shoves his second cookie in his mouth and chews noisily, while Pip takes a quick sip of his own glass. He picks up a third one and dips it into the milk before he bites it. To Pip, it probably looks like Damien really enjoys the cookies – which is true. But Damien knows that it's a delaying tactic. If his mouth is full, he can't talk. If he can't talk, he doesn't have to tell Pip about the baby. Kenny would be so disappointed in him right now.

Pip watches Damien with a pleased smile and strokes his hand up and down his arm. "Now, now, don't eat too much or you'll spoil your appetite for dinner."

"What's for the dinner?" Damien chews his third cookie. He pauses a little when he feels a burp coming on but forces it back down.

"Oh, see… well, the thing is… oh this is terribly embarrassing." Pip wears a sheepish grin and shrugs his shoulders in. "The cookies took longer than I thought, and I'm afraid I haven't gotten the time to cook tonight… I'm awfully sorry, dear."

"It's no big deal. We'll get take-out. What do you-" Damien pauses again when he feels a rush of nausea hitting him. He frowns and looks at the milk. "Did the milk go bad?"

Pip knits his brows and picks up Damien's glass of milk. He takes a sniff and shakes his head. "I don't think so, dear. What's the matter?"

"I feel sick." Damien backs away from the countertop. He puts his hand over his mouth and retches. Fuck. What the hell is happening? He feels like there is something eating at his insides and he really needs to puke. He can't remember the last time he actually feels like throwing up. And over what? Spoiled milk? He once drank half a bottle of vodka and held it down. He isn't going to throw up over milk. "Really sick," he manages to mutter out.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, dear. Should I call an ambulance?" Pip asks as he hurries over to Damien. But with his size hindering his movement, he doesn't make it over before Damien breaks into a run for the bathroom. "Damien!"

Damien slams his knees into the floor of the bathroom so hard that he's sure they'll bruise in the morning. He lifts the seat cover and towers over the toilet bowl. The next seconds, he's emptying out everything he ate today that hasn't been digested. Food definitely does not taste as good coming back up. His abdomen muscles contract and tries to squeeze out whatever is left in his stomach. He winces, his hands gripping the toilet bowl, and tries to get some air back into him. His eyes are watering a bit from the vomiting so everything he sees is a bit blurred. He leans back and sits down on the floor with one hand holding his abdomen and the other wiping his mouth. He feels Pip's presence behind him and forces his head to turn so he can make sure that Pip's doing okay. At least he knows now that it isn't the milk since Pip doesn't seem to be throwing his guts out. Then what the hell is it that's causing this?

He squeezes his eyes for a split second when a new kind of pain rockets through him. He groans, loud and low, and clasps his hands over his head. He forces his eyes open. He needs to look at Pip. He needs to know that Pip's fine.

"Pip?" He turns around and looks up with dizziness and a burning fire eating him away. The last thing he sees before he loses consciousness is Pip's glowing red eyes, his snarling smile, and the bag of herbs from Dr. Ralph in his hand. "Pip…"

TO BE CONTINUED…

Boyue's Note: Reviews are always welcome and constructive criticism is always needed. Thanks for reading!

10.27.12

7:15 PM