A/N: Thanks to Phish Tacko for beta'ing this. Go read her stuff!

Ch. 33

Having now admitted to himself that he was, in fact, pregnant, Ichabod had to tell his supervisor. He'd contemplated lying to the man, but he knew that eventually the truth would come out and he would get in trouble for it if he did. At some point, someone would see him with his big belly and would know that he was with child, and word would travel fast around the police department.

So, as soon as he was feeling better, Ichabod called Mr. Samuels and explained the situation. Mr. Samuels wasn't at all surprised. He'd suspected all along that Ichabod had been pregnant, and immediately placed the constable on leave. While he did get some salary while on leave, it wasn't as high as what he usually got, so Katrina had agreed to take up a job for the duration of Ichabod's pregnancy.

Ichabod was a bit suspicious because Katrina did not put up much of a fight over it. She actually seemed okay with going back to work, and okay with Ichabod being pregnant. It was a total change in demeanor from when he'd been pregnant with Jackson. He wondered if she had anything to do with his pregnancy, if maybe she switched his pills for some reason, but he had no proof of it, and he didn't want to live the rest of his life doubting Katrina. It would be too much. As quickly as the thought came, he pushed it out of his mind.

Another odd thing was that Katrina had insisted that they get some type of help for Ichabod, since he was getting sick so often and in pain so much. Obviously, he could not take care of both himself and Jackson in his condition. At first Ichabod was reluctant about this – it was bad enough that he was a pregnant male, it would just be another blow to his masculinity to have some nurse looking after him all day - but after further consideration, he realized that Katrina was right. He really was in no state to care for his son and himself. He was throwing up constantly throughout the day, and was very weak, not to mention the constant cramps that wracked his body.

"What about Masbath?" Katrina suggested, as she made her husband some peppermint tea. That seemed to calm his stomach sometimes.

"Why Masbath?"

"Well, you know, he did just graduate from that school for science... Last I spoke to him, he was aiming to go to medical school. He's intelligent and I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping out."

Ichabod nodded. "I always liked him. Yes, see if he's up to it."

Sure enough, Masbath was happy to help. He had graduated recently and had yet to find employment, plus helping Ichabod would give him valuable insight into what it was like truly working with patients. He agreed to come by the next morning.

00

When Katrina opened the door, she was surprised by how different Masbath looked from the last time she'd seen him. He was no longer a short, thin twelve-year-old. Now he was tall – probably taller than Ichabod – and had a more athletic body. His face still looked the same, albeit slightly more mature, though he still had short hair. He was dressed in a blue button down shirt and black slacks and black shoes.

"Masbath! My God, you've grown up!" Katrina exclaimed, looking him over. "You're so tall now!"

Masbath smiled the same shy smile that she remembered. "Yes, well, I am seventeen now."

"How fast time goes... Well, come in! Ichabod's inside. He's been very sick this morning, I'm afraid."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Masbath replied, following Katrina in.

They found Ichabod lying on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes and groaning in pain.

"He gets these horrible cramps, and headaches sometimes too. This pregnancy his hitting him hard," Katrina explained.

"They're not cramps," Ichabod said, removing his arm from his eyes and looking at Masbath.

"Right. Pains, then," Katrina answered. "He gets pain in his lower stomach."

"I see. And you mentioned you have a son, too?"

"Yes, I'll go get him. He's in the playpen in the other room."

She returned a few seconds later, holding Jackson. "He's ten months old."

As soon as the toddler saw Masbath, he put his arms out, wanting the boy to hold him. Masbath smiled, and took Jackson in his arms.

"Seems that he likes you," Ichabod noted.

"I suppose so." Masbath smiled at the baby, and the baby smiled back. "He's very cute. He has your face shape and Ichabod's hair and eyes."

"Yes, he's a cross between the both of us," Katrina said. "He's very well-behaved. He'll be easy to look after. It's Ichabod that I'm concerned with."

Masbath could hear Ichabod sigh when Katrina said that.

"Don't worry, sir," Masbath told him. "I'll be happy to help you."

"I'd need you to come over in the morning, to make sure he's okay, and spend the day here until I return from work. If Ichabod is sick, I'd like you to help him as best you could. Also, you'd be responsible for helping with Jackson. Obviously, if Ichabod is feeling okay,

he'll take care of Jackson, but on his bad days, he'll need the extra help."

"Sounds fine to me."

"Great," Katrina said. "I'm assuming the pay we discussed is all right with you?"

"It is."

"Then you can start tomorrow. Please be here at seven am."

"No problem," Masbath said, handing Jackson back to Katrina. "I'll be here right on time."

"Wonderful. We'll let you get back to your day, then. See you tomorrow."

00

When Masbath arrived the next morning – exactly at 7 AM, as promised – Katrina was just about to leave for work.

"Ichabod's in the bathroom," She said as she put her coat on. "He's been sick since he woke up. Jackson's still sleeping. I trust you'll be all right if I leave now?"

"We'll be fine," Masbath said, removing his own coat.

"My number is on the refrigerator if you need me. If not, I'll see you around four this afternoon."

"Alright. Have a good day."

Katrina forced a smile and headed towards the door.

Once she was gone, Masbath followed the sound of retching to the bathroom. He knocked on the door, then opened it to find Ichabod on his knees, throwing up. Gently, he rested a hand on Ichabod's back and began to rub gently.

A minute later, he was done. He flushed and looked up at Masbath, tears in his eyes. Masbath also noticed that Ichabod's nose was running, and handed him a tissue. "I'll get you some water."

He walked out to the kitchen, and returned a minute later, water in hand, to find Ichabod leaning with his back up against the bathtub. He still seemed to be crying. Masbath knelt down in front of him and handed him the water.

"What's wrong, sir? Why are you upset?"

"I don't know," Ichabod sniffled. "I think I'm just tired... and now I'm making a fool of myself in front of you."

"No, sir, it's alright. Your body is changing to accommodate the baby, of course there will be days when you're feeling more upset than others. It's alright. You should not be embarrassed."

"Everything hurts, Masbath," Ichabod whispered. "My whole body hurts. I want to sleep."

"Then let's get you to bed."

Ichabod nodded, then drank the water and handed the glass back to Masbath before the younger man helped him stand up. Masbath wrapped an arm around Ichabod's waist, and helped him to the bedroom, where he sat him down on the bed.

"I don't mean to be rude, sir, but when is the last time you changed your pajamas?"

Masbath could smell the sweat on Ichabod, and assumed that he either hadn't showered or changed clothes in quite a while.

"I keep forgetting... I'm sorry, it's been about three days..." Ichabod said, eyes looking very sad again. Just then, a sharp pain hit Ichabod, and he held his stomach, groaning.

Seeing this, Masbath helped Ichabod lie down, and wrapped the blankets around him, tucking him in.

"Don't worry, sir. Why don't you just rest, and when you feel a little better, I'll help you to the shower and then you can put on some fresh clothes. Does that sound good?"

Ichabod just groaned again.

"Is there anything that usually helps your stomach?" Masbath asked.

"Tea. Peppermint tea helps."

"I'll go make you some."

It took Masbath a few minutes to find the tea in the kitchen, and boil the water. When he returned to Ichabod's room, he found the man asleep, holding on to a pillow tightly.