Author's Note: So, it will be continued. Aren't you happy :) Yeah, there are quite a few curses in this chapter. They were needed for the 'mood', so try to bear it.

Damn Switzerland. Damn Swiss cheese. Who the hell really needs holes in their cheese? Cheese doesn't need air holes because it does not breathe. Damn Swiss people. Honestly, why would they poke holes in their cheese? There is absolutely no point.

Damn Canadians who think they've become Swiss, and they eventually stop calling their pregnant boyfriends who still live back home.

Marco lay pathetically on his side, staring at the picture of the two of them on his bedside table. He picked it up, slowing tracing it with his index finger. It had been taken the day before he left, and it was obvious to all that both of their smiles were forced.

He put it back down in its rightful place. It had been over a month since Marco had 'come out' to Dylan about the pregnancy. Dylan had promised to call, and he had…once.

Marco decided, though his body refused, it was time to get up from his little six in the evening rest. He ripped the irritating blankets off his body. Honestly, he'd been too warm to wear them anyway, so he didn't know why he was. He walked out into the kitchen, feeling surprisingly fine, as physical things go.

He instinctively pulled out his cell phone, checking if he'd missed a call, though he knew even before checking that he absolutely hadn't. It was just a waste of his time to check.

Marco sat down in the living room, hoping to get a second alone, but also knowing that was impossible with Ellie and Paige living there. Jesse came over all of the time to spend time with Ellie, also, Alex had basically moved in with Paige, and most days, Marco wanted to throw himself out the window from all the romance he had to witness without being able to be a part of it with his own lover.

He let his head drop between his knees, pushing it even lower with his hands. "Hon, if you're trying to push your head off," said Paige cautiously, walking into the room, "it's not going to work that easily."

Marco groaned. She'd ruined the calm memory of Dylan behind his closed eyes. "Go away," he said tiredly, though he got up, following her into the kitchen despite his own request for her to leave him alone.

"Sit," she suggested, pulling on his hand until he sat with her at the table. She looked at him expectantly, looking rather confused. "So, what are you planning to do with baby Del Rossi?"

"Stop calling it that," he said, rolling his eyes. "And I'm keeping it," he said strongly.

Marco could tell Paige was trying very hard not to shout out her negative opinions on the matter. She clapped her hands together, counting to ten on her lips before speaking.

"Marco," she said, grasping his hand, "do you understand how much your life will change once you have a baby to take care of?"

Marco shook his head, staring past her at the wall. He'd heard it all before. "Paige, I'm a guy."

"I know," she said, wondering what he meant.

"Do you know how often men get pregnant?"

"Umm—"

"This will be the last time this opportunity arises for me," said Marco, "and I am not letting it go. Don't you understand that?"

She smiled. "Yes," she whispered, "I do."

"I want a baby more than anything, and a miracle like this happens once in a lifetime…oh, but why now?" he asked, looking up. "At least let him call."

It was as if God answered his rather demanding call, for not a second later, his cell phone rang. "Dylan," he answered immediately.

"Okay, before you scream at me, listen," said Dylan quickly. Marco got up from the table, leaving Paige alone in the room, and ran back to his own.

"I'm listening," he said, locking his door behind him.

"I've wanted to call. I really really have," he said desperately, "but I knew that we had a big conversation to have, and every moment I've had was just that. A moment. I wanted to wait until I had more time to talk to you."

Marco really wanted to vent, to yell, to shoot his boyfriend for being so heartless, but he blamed his moodiness for his anger, and he tried to ignore it. "It's…fine, I guess."

"You're mad," he said.

"Good observation," said Marco, concentrating on evening his fingernail without a nail file. "Let's talk."

"I've had time to accept that I'm going to be the father of a ba—I am the father, yes?" he asked to make sure.

Marco smiled, feeling a bit less angry. "Of course," he replied.

"Well, I've had time to accept it. Now, what's going to happen?" he asked.

"I want to keep it," said Marco, biting his lip. "Will you be with me to do that?"

"I'm going to be brought into fatherhood kicking and screaming, but babe, I'm willing to do anything that makes you happy right now," he said, looking down at the bed he was laying in. "After all, I've been a terrible boyfriend lately."

"Yes, you have," Marco agreed, making sure Dylan had that straight. "And…you're so much nicer to me when I'm sick than Paige. You spoil me half to death. Paige says 'oh, hon' a bunch of times, then promptly leaves the room."

"Poor thing," said Dylan, and Marco could hear the pout in his voice. "I'm assuming you've been to a doctor?"

"Not exactly…" said Marco, somewhat ashamed, preparing to be scolded.

"Get to one. How the hell do you even know that you're pregnant?" he asked. "You haven't even been to a doctor…" he muttered to himself, amazed that Marco could be so utterly stubborn.

"I feel it," he said. "Dylan, I can't explain it, but I know that it can't be anything else. Besides, I took a test."

Dylan didn't answer. After a moment of nothing, Marco wasn't even sure Dylan was there anymore. "He—hello," he said anxiously.

"Hold on a second, Marco," he said tersely.

Marco waited, as he was told to, and got up to walk around his room while he waited for Dylan to return to the phone. He heard quite a bit of muffled voices, and he raised his eyebrow in confusion. What was he doing?

Marco sat down at his desk, not planning on looking at any more of those pregnancy sites that scared him quite a bit, but opened up a word document of his half written paper that scared him quite a bit more. He had to finish by tomorrow. While holding the phone on his ear with his shoulder, he just put his finger to the keyboard when Dylan came back.

"Sorry about that," said Dylan.

"No problem," said Marco. "What was—"

"I have to go," he interrupted, "but I promise we'll talk tomorrow. I swear this time that, if I don't, you are completely allowed to kill me."

"You have to go now?" asked Marco, disappointed. "We barely talked."

"I know, babe. Trust me, I'll make it up to you tomorrow," he said sincerely.

Marco tried to keep himself from snorting doubtfully. "How can you do that?" he asked, his mood quickly falling with each passing second.

"You've got to trust me. Eight-thirty tomorrow morning, count on my voice," Dylan said sweetly.

"Why so early?" asked Marco, confused. "You're never up that early."

"Trust me, I'll be up even earlier than that. I've got to get ready now."

Marco, though completely confused, didn't know what else to say. "Fine. Fine," he said. "Love you, I guess."

"You guess? Jeez, way to make a boy feel bad," said Dylan, shaking his head. "Love you too."

Marco closed his phone, making his way back downstairs, feeling tears in his eyes. He was going to kill himself with the emotions this damn baby was putting in his damn body.

"Marco," Paige called, getting ready to go up the stairs, but Marco was already halfway down. "Okay, so, I've discovered I can actually cook."

Marco tried to smile, wiping the damn tears from his eyes. He had never said…or thought the word 'damn' so many times in his life.

"Good," said Marco. "Sorry I haven't been in the mood to lately…it'll come back to me."

She shrugged, pulling him into the dining room where Ellie and Alex were already sitting.

"So," said Ellie, "Paige decided to make us breakfast for dinner."

Marco rolled his eyes, sitting down at the table next to his friend. "Eleanor, be grateful." Paige looked pleased with his answer.

"What, exactly, is breakfast also known as dinner?" Marco asked, his question answered for him when an omelet was placed in front of him. "There's no Swiss cheese in here, right?" he asked, looking up hopefully.

"No, why?"

"I hate the stupid air holes," he said, shrugging, as though it was perfectly normal to not want to eat food that he'd eaten for years just because it had holes in it. Paige nodded, too confused to pose a discussion.

Marco woke up early the next morning, surprising even himself, considering his first class wasn't until eleven. He groaned, annoyed that he'd wasted perfectly good sleep time, but then he remembered. Dylan was going to call!

He got up, dressed, (smelled food in the kitchen and wasted ten good minutes giving last night's breakfast-dinner to the toiled) and began to work on his paper in the kitchen, deciding he might as well do something important while he waited for the phone call.

Apparently, he'd spent more time in the bathroom than he thought because his computer clock said it was already after nine. He closed his eyes, shutting the laptop, and planning on going back to bed. Even if his jackass boyfriend decided to call now, he decided he was not going to answer. He'd made a promise to him, and then blew him off once again. Wonderful.

Marco heard the front door open while he shut down his laptop, but he didn't even bother to look up. He couldn't care less who was coming in anymore. Evidently, his house belonged to the whole damn city.

He picked up his computer, and was met with the face of a boy he tried to stay extremely angry with.

"I'm sorry," said Dylan immediately. "Paige decided to come to the airport late, so I didn't exactly make my deadline."

Marco threw his arms around him ecstatically. Paige walked in a second later, rolling her eyes, and traveling up the stairs, muttering, "Too early for a flight to come in…"

"So…. surprised?

Author's Note: I mainly just wanted to bring it back into the world. Sorry if it wasn't amazing :( Please review. I want to know what you think.