4-A(Sorry, got to get a grip on proofing!)
Next time We'll Adopt! Chapter 4 kdoc27 Current Location: .Current Mood: cranky Current Music: A. L-No Trespassing, Dire Straits, Bee Gee's
Tess2645/Kdoc27
"Please !
I'm sorry...
...for not wanting this as much as he did...does!
Please don't...!"
Dylan knelt at the railing in the small hospital chapel, so terrified he couldn't even pray.
Fear had him by the throat.
A strong merciless hand seemed to be squeezing his heart.
"I'm sorry!
I know you don't do bargains...but..."
'Anything!' he thought.
'Anything...ANYTHING!'
"Ppplease...!
I know we're not supposed to fear...not supposed to worry.
But...
You sssaw...!
I can't...CCAN'T...!
He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.
Shaking so hard...locking his jaw tight, as his teeth tried to chatter...like someone freezing..
'You know he's not gonna make it.' Dylan heard the cold empty voice in his head.
He gripped the railing more tightly, shaking his head as if he could shake that cold voice out of it.
The fear was a high-pitched whine, the blood roaring through his veins so loud; too loud to think through.
'It's over...he's probably dead already...'
"Shut up...shut UP...SHUT ...JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Dylan started out whispering; Forcing the words out through clenched teeth, but ended up shouting!
"Get out of my head! Get OUT!
I don't... We. Don't. Belong. To you!"
Dylan found himself standing, with his fists clenched, head down, as if ready for a fight.
He didn't remember getting up...or turning to face the slim stand with the bible open on it.
A couple of steps brought him to where he could see that it was open to the book of psalms.
Line 5 of psalm 62 caught his eye...
'My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from him.'
He read down to line 8.
Everything...even time seemed to stop.
He read it again...
Taking the book from the stand, he got down on the floor, holding it open in his hands as his breathing eased...that bone-chilling fear fading...
It was a big comfortingly heavy New American Standard bible, though the ones in the tiny bed-side stands in the rooms were the 'Good News' versions.
Marco had explained that to a lot of people, especially those who felt that the King James was the only 'authentic' version, or who hadn't read a bible since they were kids; this (NAS) just 'felt' more 'sacred'...
"The plain language of the 'Good News' just doesn't seem quite 'holy' enough to them!"
Marco smirked a little as he put his arms round Dylan's neck; gazing into his husbands eyes, his face suddenly seeming to glow as he said.."Like having father 'Mo marry us, instead of some stranger or... just some judge!"
Dylan drew him into a tight hug; holding on to him like he might...disappear or something if he let go. Today Marco would start the hormone injections; step one in preparing his body for what stilled seemed to Dylan, like a bad idea.
Pulling back so he could look into his eyes, Dylan said; "I wish..." He stopped, taking a deep breath and blowing it out as he looked away...
There was no point in even saying it.
It simply wasn't possible!
But Marco got it.
And his hands were suddenly gripping the front of Dylan's shirt, eyes filling with tears. A look of such wonder filled his face...and so much love...shinning through the tears. "I...You..." Marco stammered, finally giving up and pressing his face into Dylan's chest, and whispering; "..Me too!"
A shudder ran through him, and when he looked up again, all the love and hero-worship in the world was in his eyes.
They both wished he could really get 'with child' ...naturally...
Dylan wished Marco could really...have HIS baby!
Dylan.
Dylan!
MY DYLAN!He knew his husband loved him. After that first time, he'd never had any trouble saying it!
These days he'd gotten a lot better at showing at in the (so called) small, everyday ways.
But every now and then; there was something like this... something so 'girly'(Marco blushed deeply at this thought, but he couldn't think of it any other way at the moment) and outrageous that he couldn't bring himself to say...could barely even think about...
And Dylan would surprise him by not only feeling the same about ...whatever it was...but saying it!
First!
Just like the first time he'd told Marco he loved him...
"How can you even...?" Marco buried his head against his husbands' chest again. "I'm so ..."but the rest was lost in a sniffling, half swallowed sob.
And it was Dylan's turn to play mind-reader, understanding what Marco was trying to say, even though he completely disagreed with it.
Dylan placed two fingers under Marco's chin, lifted his face, and wiped at the tears there, "Shhh, baby, I'm the one who said it, you only thought of it. Even with... everything, I just want you to know that this means ...so much!"
"It isn't 'silly', I love you more than anything of course I wish this were 'natural' for us instead of so god-awful dangerous!"
"But..."
"And don't you dare say you don't know how I can be with you! A big dumb Hockey-Player jock, I should be your boy-toy!"
Holding Marco even tighter, he said; "Sometimes I look at my ring...your ring on my finger, and I can still hardly believe it!"
Marco pulled back to object to these statements, but Dylan kissed him; giving his lips a quick peck each time the younger man tried to say something.
Smiling against Dylan's lips, Marco pulled away just enough to put two fingers against the most perfect pair of lips in the world, and his second favorite part of his husband.
Looking up into the eyes he could still get lost in...(even...etc.) and still his favorite part of this wild, (no more reporters would be waiting for them outside the hospital! By the time they'd figured out it was disappearing ink in the 'soaker' water-gun, Dylan had already gotten him into the car, Marco didn't think he really would have run them down...but... ) fun-loving, beautiful man that was somehow his husband, he said simply;
"O.k." Nothing more.
But it was all there in his eyes.
There was heat there...he could never be immune to Dylan's kisses...but so was a little sadness for Dylan's fears, as well as how proud he was that he'd support him in this anyway.
His Marco!
Everyone seemed to think Dylan was so wild and fearless...but to him, Marco was always so much braver.
And always about things a whole lot more important than pranks or jokes!
Like this...(.Having a Baby!) this would never have occurred to him in a million years!
The only thing he could do was be there for him, and try not to allow himself to think about the fact that Marco could die from this...
Every time this thought tried to make itself heard, he slammed that door hard and fast!
Chained it shut, and locked the chains with a padlock!
To hell with fear!
He could/would do this.
He could be 'Daring Dylan' for him now.
For his Marco...he'd do anything!
"O.k...Lets do this!" Dylan said, tightening his arms briefly round Marco's waist, smiling down at him...that way. The way Marco loved, like he believed they couldn't loose!
He could make these stupid eyes twinkle if it killed him!
"Her eggs, maybe they'll be like her...kid could come early!" Dylan said shrugging.
Marco laughed then, even though he rolled his eyes at Dylan and punched his shoulder.
But it was that laugh that Dylan loved.
That one that still ran through him like nothing he'd ever felt before...
And he'd still do anything to be on the receiving end of it, anything at all to make him smile and laugh like that!
'Hormone injections... !
Jesus, Mary, Joseph,...and Gabriel!' Dylan thought!
4-b
The door opened quietly.
James came into the room so quietly, that Dylan didn't hear a thing.
He can't help but smile when he sees his son sitting there on the floor; the big bible resting on his thigh..a finger sliding almost rhythmically up and down the spine of the book, while he chews on the thumbnail of his other hand.
Dylan is starring off into space...not quite frowning, but James knows every form of worry that this face is capable of.
Now he understands why his wife has sent HIM to tell their son what under any other circumstances would have been wonderful news.
Walking up the isle, glancing around, James thought; "Not bad ...for a hospital chapel."
Getting closer to his son, he's even more sure of his first assessment of the young man's state of mind.
This close he can see that it's only part of Dylan's finger touching the big book...
That part, just below the last knuckle.
Right above where it begins to be 'hand'.
It is the heavy white-gold of his wedding-band that slides along the faux-leather book-cover.
The beautiful dark-auburn-haired, dark hazel-eyed, baby girl that James has just seen through the nursery window isn't even a blip on his son's radar right now.
The only thing on Dylan's mind right now, is Marco!
James gets close enough to put a hand on his shoulder before Dylan even notices that he's no longer alone.
"Hey! 'Dad'!" James says.
"Dad!" Dylan exclaims, getting up with bible in one hand.
"Yes, 'Dad' ?" James tries again with a grin, making quotation marks with his fingers.
The eyes that Dylan turns to him are a little too wide, and pale as ice; there is steel in this glance.
James tightens his grip on his son's shoulder a little; gives him a moment to process...
Dylan only stares; blinking at his father like he's speaking a language he doesn't understand.
James smiles at him, shaking him a little; " Wake up son, your daughter is waiting to meet you." he tells him.
'Almost thirty!" James thinks, shaking his head; 'And he still has a one-track mind/ can't find the forest with all those trees in the way...still my little boy.'
He understands, that Dylan is having trouble because these are not the words he has been expecting to hear.
Dylan, age 4...
James in the bucket of a firetruck, coaxing him out of the tree he climbed into to escape the policeman who found him.
On this rainy-day, a friend at day-care told him something about leprechauns, wishes and pots of gold...
Age 7...
The kid he chased down and sat on; till he apologized to Paige for 'accidentally' pushing her off her skates,I bet she still remembers that one.. Months later, that kid still got off the ice when he saw her on it!
Age 14...
"But dad! I'm a Hockey-player, how can I be ...gay!?"
Though he'd been right in worrying about how his mom would take it...
Then...
"I knew, when you stopped sneaking out to 'hook-up', and started doing it to see 'him'...Yeah kid, you're in Love!" This, one night in the garage, to a totally surprised, and very nervous( we won't say scared shit-less) seventeen-year-old Dylan.
Then came university, and that near break-up; just Dylan getting lost in unsupervised freedom, he didn't really mean to hurt... anyone.
It was the way Marco handled this that proved, more than anything else, at least to James that Dylan finally has someone else who really loves and understands him.
The couples-counseling might have been the best idea Marco ever had when it came to helping Dylan see more of life than Hockey... and how it (really) works!
His life has worked better ever since.
But...
He is still very-much that same little boy right now though, as most of us are when it hits this close to home, we all tend to loose some of our 'polish', no matter how hard-won it is.
Right now, Dylan is not hearing Father 'Mo's voice, the calm reasoning of voice of the counselor, but most likely he's hearing the sharp barking commands of the 'Hockey Coach' .
The one that says;'Keep it together! 'Focus!"
However, the same ability to focus on just whatever is the most important thing at this time, the thing that makes him able to see who's coming his way, and decide whether they need to be avoided or passed to in order to score the next goal doesn't always work so well off the ice.
Also, when it comes to Marco...
After their first real problem with handling a separation of even a short distance, both of them had sworn never to let anything like that happen again.
That was part of what had kept Dylan in Canada when the pros first started paying real attention to him; same for Marco when the scholarships started popping up...for schools he'd never even thought of!
Like it wasn't hard enough to just get through high-school and growing up...first the you-against-the-world beginning of life as a homosexual person; then making a one-in-a-million connection like they had.
Then separation, university, Tim, counseling, the unlikely fact of Marie-Ellise's being the one to help Carmine begin to accept it all.
Now this...
It seemed like every now and then...something was determined to try to tear them apart...
He took a deep breath, huffed it out, and started again.
"You're a father now." James said, gripping Dylan's shoulders...holding his eyes withe the demand in his own.
"Mar- " Dylan began, but James cut him off.
"No!..." James shook him a little to get his attention; "Listen to me, he's in the ICU...just as a precaution!" He said when Dylan tried to interrupt.
"Listen to me son, that little girl, your DAUGHTER; has to come first right now, she's only been held by doctors and nurses... She needs YOU now...needs to be held by someone who loves her, is glad she's here...and to know, to be told every-thing's alright. The FIRST time."
Dylan almost smiled; the eyes that looked back at James were almost they're normal sparkling sea/sky-blue again.
"The 'first' time?" he asked.
James smiled at him, punching him in the bicep.
"Yeah, the first time...if she's anything like the two of you, it sure as hell won't be the last! Nurse says she's got quite a grip."
They were headed for the door now, side by side.
"Just what we need, probably the first female Hockey Player!"
Dylan chuckled a little as they turned into the hallway.
when they passed the door to the Delivery Room, Dylan's jaw clenched; but he didn't stop, didn't even pause.
The memory of all that blood, Marco's face...
The big blond clenched his fists, shut the thought down cold!
Rosie needed him now!
Dylan stopped when they got to the elevator.
He smirked a little; the image of a teen-aged Rosie in full Hockey-gear, about to sling one into the net(sure she'd out-fox the goalie!) playing in his minds eye.
'Yeah, right!' he thought.
One of his big hands gripped the heavier , but just as well muscled shoulder; his dad wasn't the one he'd got his height from, but their hands were almost the same size!
Dylan's fingers curled, gripping a chunk of Jame's sweater, he looked his dad in the eye; head down a little, his 'game-face': 'I'm ready for it now', that look said, 'Bring It On!'.
James smirked a little, quirked an eye-brow.
They nodded at each other; just once...up, then down.
Dylan punched the button for the elevator.