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AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Title: Troika

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.

Low T

Chapter 14

G scooted backward into the warmth of his husband's body and sighed. He grasped Sam's arm and drew it tighter around his waist stroking it. "I love you," he whispered.

"Glad you are awake… and alive."

"What?" He rolled toward his husband and gave him an inquisitive glance. After he scanned the room behind Sam he understood the meaning behind his words. G attempted to sit up in bed. Instead, he fell backward the short distance in utter exhaustion. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"That's the mystery the doctors tried to discover."

"Our babies? Our children? Our home?"

"All taken care of by your team and Hetty."

G sighed. "What happened?"

"I saved your life by calling 911 and also breathing for you until they arrived at the house."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"The same routine as before your pregnancy," Sam said. "The doctors admitted you to the hospital and loaded you up with parental iron. Next they drew blood for a slew of tests."

G pulled away from his husband and hid his face in a pillow.

"You mind telling me—"

"Scared, damn it, what if this is some horrible disease," he said, mumbling into the pillow.

"Such as?"

"Don't know, what causes anemia, severe anemia, anemia so bad you never seem to recover from—"

"Worry-wart."

G rolled over to face his husband again which turned out to be more of an effort than he thought it would be. He panted and gasped for air and waited until his breathing normalized before speaking again. Even then his words came out raspy and airy. "I'm not a worry-wart."

"Are too." Sam drew him into his arms snuggling G close against his body. "No diseases which are life-threatening."

"You sure?"

"I wouldn't lie to you or even try to placate you."

"Then what?"

"I'll let the doctors explain the situation to you."

"You are starting to worry me again."

"As I said, worry-wart."

"Stop saying that and kiss me."

"So you can turn me down again for sex?"

"That was below… below."

"And true." Sam rolled onto his side and drew G's face toward his. He planted a line of tender kisses down his husband's face before zeroing in on G's mouth forcing his tongue inside. His amorous kissing left them both breathless. "And your diagnosis comes with that territory."

G pulled away. "What?"

"Low testosterone."

"Heard about it years ago when I was pregnant the first time."

"However, that condition is not caused by this form of low testosterone."

"Now I'm confused."

"Again." Sam planted another peck on G's lips. "It's your life story."

"I ought to punch you for that one."

"But you can't lift your arms if you tried?"

"Something like that," G said. "You are lucky this time." He smirked.

The door opening to the intensive care unit cubicle caused them both to stop their repartee and stare at the curtain which partitioned the door from the room.

Dr. Daniels parted the privacy curtain. "Good evening, Mr. Callen," he said, "glad you are awake."

"I want to know what's wrong with me."

"That is something even we don't know."

"Wait a minute, you are the doctor."

"Yes, and you have a puzzling situation with low testosterone caused by the multiple births," the doctor said. "We've never seen these particular symptoms with low testosterone. Therefore, we'd like to perform a test dosing of the medicine used to treat low T."

"And it does what?"

"That is our immediate concern because the medicine may decrease your breast milk."

"Screw this!" G balled up his fists at his sides and clenched his teeth.

Sam caressed his husband's face. "Easy, sweetheart, let him finish."

"I plan to use the smallest dose possible to give you the best outcome with minimal side effects and therefore little effect on your breast milk."

"But you just said this is not the typical symptoms and you can't predict the outcome and—"

"Sweetheart, you need to—"

"No!" With as much effort as it took, G rolled away from his husband and covered his head with the sheet. "You don't understand, you just don't understand, neither one of you understand what I'm going through, and I'm not going to try and explain it to you. Leave."

"G, come on, man—"

"Stop, both of you leave, now." G released an unsteady breath with a huff.

Sam stayed on the bed next to his husband and watched the doctor exit the ICU cubicle. "I'm not leaving."

"I'm not talking about that medicine, period."

"What don't I understand?"

G pulled the sheet off his face and rolled onto his back. "I need them." He finished the short sentence breathless.

"Them?"

"My children, my babies… damn it… everything has changed."

"You are not making sense."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He sighed and crossed his arms as best he could with his voluptuous breasts clearly blocking his efforts. "Remember what I asked you about before I thought I was pregnant."

"I do." Sam edged closer to his husband stroking G's face.

"It's happening… now, and I don't want anything to stand in its way," he said. "I… I'm a father and I suppose a mother too and there's nothing else I want to do with my life right now. Nothing."

"I do understand and I'll stand by your side."

"At least someone is on my team," G said. "Now if I can get my doctor on it, I'll be one happy… father or is it mother… or both."

Thanks for reading my story. More to come soon...