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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Title: Trojka

Rating: M

WARNINGS: Slash: G/Sam; Squick: M-preg G Callen; Whump: G Callen

Story Details and Full Disclaimer in Chapter 1: My stories are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. This is a work intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.

Anemic

Chapter 4

G and Sam took the stairs to the second level of the parking garage. On the landing, G stopped and bent over trying to catch his breath. He grabbed the handrail to steady himself. Waves of nausea and dizziness passed over him more than once before he caught his breath.

"Maybe you are too out of shape for these stairs."

"Possibly." He trudged upward taking the stairs at half the speed. "You try carrying another body with you everywhere you go." G shot him a look.

"Aw, now there's an excuse." Sam winked at him.

"I hope you were joking." He rested again at the halfway point, placing his upper body's weight on the handrail and leaning over to quell the waves of nausea which threatened to bring up the lunch he had just enjoyed. G felt as if his heart were going to leap out of his chest. Must be heart palpitations. Feels familiar. I do not want to remember when I had these last. Baby Benjamin. He flashed back to the very moment when the symptom occurred and cried out collapsing on the stairs.

"G!" Sam rushed over to his husband's side and lifted him into his arms and carried him up the stairs.

"Did you just do what I think you did?" G asked.

"Are you okay?"

"I think so." He sighed. "Put me down. I had a flashback."

"Really." Sam lowered his husband to the parking garage's deck. He grasped his hand and started toward the Challenger.

G stopped and gazed up into his husband's eyes. "I did."

"And that's all?" He started to walk again.

"No." He attempted to catch his breath again. It was harder to do than when he was climbing on the stairs. "I need to stop." G stood ten feet from the Challenger unable to walk any further.

Sam studied his husband's face and body. "I'm asking you again, are you okay?"

"No, something is wrong." Tears welled up in his cerulean blue eyes. "Sam, please, it can't be the baby, don't let something happen to the baby."

"Easy, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I can't move."

"What?" He studied his husband up and down attempting to ascertain the source of his problem. "Can you be more specific?"

"My muscles won't respond," G said, breathless and holding his chest. "Heart palpitations. Chest pain. Dizziness. Fatigue. Feel cold. Shortness of breath. Is that specific enough for you?"

Sam scooped his husband into his arms and rushed to the elevators.

"Now you are scaring me."

"I think I know what it is."

"But…."

"The doctor needs to run some tests."

"It's serious?"

"Can be life threatening."

"Shit." G sighed. "For whom?"

"You." They reached the third level and Sam found a wheelchair.

"I don't need—"

"Don't argue with me," Sam said. "You are not walking. Sit, now." He settled him into the wheelchair and pushed him through the doors and down a corridor to the emergency department.

"Convenient."

"You should be thankful."

G sighed again, taking in a breath was more difficult and he was sitting down. Damn it. "And you should give me a clue."

"I'll let the doctor do that." Sam pushed his partner up to the check-in desk. "We have a standing order for an ultrasound and hemoglobin and hematocrit."

The woman behind the desk took one look at the man in the wheelchair and directed both of them back into the emergency department.

"He has symptoms," Sam said to a nurse who entered the room. He recited the symptoms as if reading off a grocery list.

The nurse left the cubicle and returned with Dr. Daniels.

"That was fast."

"I'm on call for the emergency department this afternoon." He washed his hands and gloved them. "Let's get you up on the hospital bed. Shirt off." The doctor drew the privacy curtain around his patient.

Sam lifted G into his arms again and settled him on the bed. He started to take his husband's shirt off.

"No, I'll do it." G grabbed onto the shirt and attempted to lift it over his head. "I can't believe this. Don't have the energy to do it."

Sam finished removing the aqua blue long sleeve t-shirt and set it aside. "Lie back, sweetheart."

G shot him a look.

"I don't care if you like me calling you that or not, you are my sweetheart."

"Damn."

The nurse returned with a phlebotomy kit and prepared a vein in her patient's left arm. "The ultrasound unit will be here in two."

"How long have you felt those symptoms?"

"They came on today as I was climbing the stairs in the parking garage." He finished his sentence short of breath.

"Any unusual cravings?"

"You mean such as pickles and ice cream?" He chuckled.

"No, such as soil, paper, wax, grass, ice, and hair."

G stared at the privacy curtain keeping his eyes averted from both the doctor and his partner.

"Sweetheart, did you hear—"

"Yes, okay, I did and… remember you said the toilet paper was being used up too fast and… well, I… damn it… I ate it." He crossed his arms and stared at his husband first and then the doctor. "I ate a roll a day for the last week or so. I'm was so embarrassed and I didn't want to tell you."

"I wish you would have," Sam said. "It is a sign of anemia."

"What?" G's mouth hung open. "Anemia?"

"Yes, pica or the consumption of non-food items can be a sign of iron deficient anemia," Dr. Daniels said, warming the tunable diaphragm of his stethoscope on his hand. "I need to listen to your heart." G allowed his arms to fall at his sides. The doctor listened to his patient's chest, moving the diaphragm from the right side to the left. "It appears you have the symptoms of severe anemia."

"What? How? That's impossible. I took my prenatal vitamins every morning. I did what you asked. This happened before but I didn't have the vitamins and—"

"Easy, G, let him explain why." Sam stroked his partner's shoulder.

"This isn't something you did wrong, Mr. Callen, you did everything right."

"Then what's going on?" G sighed.

The ultrasound unit arrived in the cubicle and Dr. Daniels readied it. "We are about to find out," he said. "Let's hope this gel is still warm enough." He squirted some gel onto his patient's abdomen and pressed the ultrasound transducer over the gel spreading it across the upper expanse of the abdominal area. Afterward, he turned the ultrasound unit to face his patient and his husband. "Just as I thought. Take a close look at the screen. Here we have one head and over here we have another—"

"Oh shit!" G stared at the screen his jaw hanging open.

"Twins!" Sam said. "No wonder you have anemia."

"I… twins… I don't know if… didn't you say it wouldn't happen… isn't that what you said."

"I said it was unlikely considering your male hormones interacting with your—"

"Shit!" G watched the two fetuses on the screen move. "I felt that."

"Let me see if I can zero in on their hearts." Dr. Daniels moved the ultrasound transducer until he heard a faint heart beat.

G reached out and grasped Sam's hand, drawing it to his breast. He gazed up into his eyes and grinned wide and silently mouthed, "Our babies."

"And here is the other one, there we are."

G glanced at the screen again. "Twins, I can't believe this."

Dr. Daniels spent the remainder of his time scanning his patient's entire abdomen from top to bottom and side to side. "There is a possible chance of more fetuses," he said, "but at this point I don't see more appendages or heads."

"What?" Sam's jaw dropped. "You mean triplets."

"It is possible," the doctor said, "or more."

G stared at the screen trying to come to terms with his doctor's newest announcement. Triplets.

"New doctor's orders for the next week at least and possibly longer," Dr. Daniels said while putting away the ultrasound equipment and handing his patient a towel. "No stairs. No exercise. No lifting weights. And that means no sex."

Sam and G glanced at each other and chuckled.

"Obviously, I didn't need to mention that." The doctor smirked.

"No," G said.

"Take your prenatal vitamins two times a day, once in the morning and once at night." He pushed the ultrasound cart into a corner and faced his patient again. "And an extra iron supplement at noon, prescription dose. Complete blood count in one week along with another ultrasound."

"How far along are the fetuses?"

"I still don't have a reference point," he said. "An estimate, gauging by your breasts and the fetuses' sizes and how much you are showing, at least four months possibly five months. This is actual gestation not male gestation. Speaking of which, it is still unknown about the period of time it takes a man to deliver multiple births. We know from experience it takes six months for a single birth."

"So that means we don't know the gestation and the delivery date," G said, starting to worry as usual.

"I hope to gain more insight into both of those in one week's time," Dr. Daniels said. "Essentially, I want you on modified, complete bed rest until further notice."

"Modified, complete bed rest?" G glanced at him sideways.

"Nothing out of bed except for bathroom privileges and dining."

"For how long?"

"Can't give you an estimate until I know more information about your gestation and delivery date."

G sighed. "Damn, this is complicated."

"My suggestion right now," the doctor said, "is to go home and rest, horizontally."

"That something I do well." He chuckled.

"Stop by the nurses' station for a copy of the doctor's orders and pickup your prescription at the pharmacy." Dr. Daniels turned and left the ED cubicle.

Sam picked up his husband's t-shirt and helped him dress in it.

"I guess this is my lot for the indefinite future." G smoothed the t-shirt over his enlarged breasts and torso. "And a bigger bra."

"Definitely a bigger bra." He winked at his husband. "And I can't wait to choose one for you."

"Seriously?"

"I love buying you bras."

"Has anyone ever told you how depraved and warped that sounds?"

"Depraved and warped?" Sam chuckled.

"Is it normal for a man to buy a man a bra?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"If he's buying it for his friend's wife birthday."

"You got me that time." G chuckled. "Have you ever done that?"

"Too odd, even for me."

"See what I mean, seriously depraved and warped."

Sam chuckled. "44 DD."

G glanced sideways at his husband.

"Your new size."

"Are we betting?"

"Sure, the winner gets a head to toe massage."

"Now we are talking," G said. "48 DD."

"Wait a minute, you measured."

"Nope, I based it on the last measurements we took when I had Benjamin."

Sam sighed. "As I recall you were a 42 CC."

"I'm based it on that and the need to feed triplets."

"You are betting on triplets."

"I'm feeling it." G smirked.

"Deal."

"I suppose you are betting on twins."

"Yes." Sam helped his husband off the hospital bed and into the wheelchair.

"Ah, my ride is ready."

They stopped at the nurses' station and received the doctor's orders and signed them. Afterward they picked up the prescription strength iron tablets.

"Glad you are pushing me because I feel like crap."

"Tired?"

"Very."

"I can tell."

"I know, few words."

In the parking garage, G stood and grasped the passenger door's handle, and eased himself into the passenger seat. He gave up on buckling his own seatbelt and allowed his husband to do it.

"Want your seat reclined and do you need a blanket?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You look pale."

"Yes, I'm feeling this and it's not good."

Sam grabbed a blanket out of the trunk and tucked it around his husband and reclined his seat. He straightened to shut the door.

"I believe you forgot something vitally important."

Sam leaned over and kissed his lover.

G wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you."

NCIS:LA NCIS:LA NCIS:LA

G awakened to the sound of voices coming from the living room. He rolled to his left side hoping to hear them with more clarity. The long hallway leading to the stairwell acted as a funnel for sounds. This time it failed to help him. He opted for choice two and rang the bell on the nightstand.

Sam rushed into the room to see his husband sitting on the bedside and putting on his slippers. "You are supposed to allow me to help you."

"With my slippers?"

"With everything," he said. "Remember the doctor's orders you and I signed at the hospital?"

"Yes, I remember."

Sam crouched next to the bed and helped his partner into the slippers.

"Who's here?"

"I thought I could keep that a secret."

"What?"

"Hetty." Sam lifted his lover into his arms and started for the stairs.

"It's late."

"Yes."

"A man of few words."

"A man with a dilemma." He brought G down into the living room and settled him on the sofa. "Blanket?"

"Yes, still cold."

Sam tucked a blanket around his partner and sat next to him, propping up G's head on his lap. "Comfortable?"

"Yes, thanks." He faced Hetty who sat in a recliner which had been pulled closer to the sofa. "What's this about and why are you here this late at night?"

"Long story and I'll try to shorten it considering your compromised condition," she said. "Due to their exorbitant costs, your medical records were scrutinized by NCIS Headquarters in Washington, D.C."

"Exactly what are alluding to, Hetty?"

"They are no longer private as of this current case."

"What the hell?"

"Long story and I'm attempting to—"

"You trying to tell me Director Vance knows about my pregnancies?"

"Yes, all of them and the reason they transpired."

"Now there's a term," G said, sighing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Callen, my hands were tied on this one."

"I guess I shouldn't expect you to conceal my secrets forever."

"After Director Vance discovered your previous pregnancies, he demanded complete access to all the medical files on your pregnancies."

G sighed again. "And this means?"

"Many things which will take several hours to explain to you." Hetty sighed and reached into her soft-sided, black leather briefcase. "However, I wish to disclose those which are pertinent to your current circumstances." She laid a case file on the coffee table between them. "Director Vance hired an attorney who drew up the first of many resolutions. The federal government has agreed to compensate you for your losses, suffering, and inconveniences which have resulted from the experimental weapons."

"What?" G glanced at her sideways. "I'm confused."

"I was too at first, sweetheart."

"A settlement has been temporarily reached to compensate you for your current suffering and inconvenience."

"Hetty, I'm… what are you attempting to tell me?"

"Simply, the federal government bought one of my houses and I'm selling it to you for a one dollar."

"Why?"

"I too read your medical file and your condition necessitates a one story home." Hetty placed the specified pages on the coffee table and turned them to face her lead agent.

G grabbed the contract off the coffee table and scanned its contents. "The problem with that house is the pool and the—"

"Done, Mr. Callen, I eliminated all potential dangers."

"But how did you… I mean… we only found out today."

"I knew where this was going when you first announced and confirmed your pregnancy and compared them to our current case."

"So now what?"

"You move into your new home tomorrow, and I take possession of this home at the same time."

"I don't know if I can… hard to explain… moving right now is not good for me… and I don't exactly understand—"

"You are nesting."

"Damn, yes, of course, I'm nesting and I feel—"

"Settled."

"You are worse than Sam finishing my sentences."

"Mr. Callen, I've taken all of that into consideration and altered the rooms to fit your family's current and future needs."

"The bad part is I can't go see it." He attempted to climb his way out of the new house proposal.

"You could in a wheelchair and I arranged for that tonight if you are interested."

"Damn." Hetty is on top of her game tonight, she planned this one and there is no way I can weasel myself out of her proposal.

"G, I think someone has carefully thought out every aspect of this move—"

"And I should just what—uproot my family and myself—I find it unnerving, no unsettling, no, that's not quite it either."

"We'll take the house," Sam said, grasping the paper and a grabbing a pen off the coffee table.

"Sam!"

"You disapprove?"

"I… no, it's okay… I just feel—"

"Discombobulated," Sam said.

"Precisely." G sighed and signed the contract first. "Sorry for my attitude."

"No need to apologize and I understand the inconvenience with a major move like this." Hetty took the contract and signed it too. "The moving company arrives first thing in the morning. Neither one of you need lift a finger as they shall pack and restock your whole house. All expenses paid by our federal government."

"And the rest?" G asked.

"I'll explain after you are settled into your new home."

"You saying I'm stressed?" He gazed up into his husband's cognac brown eyes. "You too?"

"Yes, time to take your second prenatal vitamin."

"Only if you promise to keep me informed," G said.

"You have my word, Mr. Callen." Hetty stood and smoothed down her deep amethyst toned suit jacket. "I'll see you both over at your new home tomorrow afternoon." She grabbed the papers, placed them in her briefcase, and sauntered toward the front door. "Don't bother getting up. I'll let myself out."

Sam leaned over and kissed G on the forehead. "Let's get back upstairs so I can follow through on that massage."

"Don't say it."

"The number, the size, the—"

"I think you want to massage my well endowed, man breasts." G chuckled.

"Talk about depraved and warped." Sam winked at him.

G surrounded his lover's neck with both arms and passionately kissed him. "You love them and you know it."

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