-1So I couldn't wait myself to see where the story led…I'm a freak like that…enjoy!

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I can't believe I just said that. Well, I can believe I said it. It needed to be said. But not like that.

Please, please, please…

My proud, determined George dropped right there.

Not like a frail flower.

Don't get it twisted, he dropped like a ton of bricks.

Right into the door frame.

He earned himself a trip right back to the hospital along with a few stitches and a concussion. Not what I imagined at all. Life really does suck.

Not a word was said about my outburst in the flurry of activity. He wasn't really cold, we held hands the whole time. Just silent. Maybe because he just busted his head?

I was worried and unsure as we waited in the clinic bay. I also felt more than awkward we were in a clinic bay that I built with my dead fiancé's millions. Yeah. While I sat by my busted boyfriend that was only busted because I blurted out that I was with child. Maybe I should take this silent time to find a word that more adequately describes how much this all sucks in some awkward, cosmic level.

George laid himself back against the pillows. Just as I was about to protest about the dangers of sleep and concussions, he pulled me down to his chest. We laid silent once again, but at least now I felt a little more secure. Unless he was trying to hug the hate out…oh God.

I searched for his eyes, for reassurance, but he was staring out into the void. Breathing slow and sure until finally he spoke.

"Are we going to be okay?"

Nervously I asked, "What do you mean?"

"With a baby? Will we be okay?" He suddenly stammered. "Th-that's what you want to do , right? Keep the baby?"

"Of course I want to keep the baby. Do you?"

"Yes. But will we be okay? Things are so hard on you now. You can barely catch a break around here. They'll tear into you all over again. That's not good. Not for you. Not for the baby. Will we be okay?"

"We have us. The three of us. And we won't have a choice. We have a baby. We have to be okay."

"So that's it. We are okay. We are parents."

"Oh, crap."

"Ditto."

Just about then Cristina came sweeping in to discharge.

"K, Bambi. You know the drill. This is for the headache. Sorry I can't offer you something for the stupidity. Heh, you know it's kind of ironic. Izzie the Deer Doctor loves Bambi. Wait! Not ironic, a little with the vomit in my mouth. How unpleasant. So what happened? Did you swoon as she regaled you with tales of her crusade for the animal kingdom?"

"Nope. Not this time. Just told me we were having a baby!"

All the papers and pills dropped from her hands.

"A baby?"

I confirmed it somewhat begrudgingly.

"A baby."

"Callie's going to hate you even more. Congrats. Can I have your surgeries now that you are in a delicate way? Or rather changing bed pans for eternity?"

"Nice, Cristina."

"I'm not nice. I'm honest. You're screwed. And I don't do games if you recall. At least not willingly. So don't you dare try to pass me a diaper with a melted candy nugget or I'll rip your face off! Have a good night!"

And with that parting thought , we were off. The rumor mill already in action.