While I knew what the pregnancy test had told us, and I knew that Billy had taken it to heart as well, I insisted that we get a professional opinion.
"After all," I no longer sounded as certain as I had while sick and promising Billy he'd be a great dad - which he would - but honestly how the fuck could I trust anything my body's fluids told us after they had been fucked around with by our favorite cape wearing asshole? "I've been through a few changes," his laughter wasn't as easy as I was growing used to, and the twinge of fear crept through me at the reminder of how dark it had sounded when we first met. Glancing at his hands, the knuckles white from the grip he had the steering wheel in, I fought against patronizing him. "And who knows if the average test off a shelf -"
"Thanks a lot, Jonah," a snort escaped at the reminder of his issues during the buying of that average test. "You're probably right, Ronnie," his shoulders went down a notch - tension relaxing just slightly. "That twat and those 'doctors' from Vought weren't what I'd call competent, were they?"
And that's how we managed to somehow make our way to the doctor that had "fixed" me after my body had been through the V variant ringer.
Waiting while a doctor does more tests wasn't nearly as easy as I hoped I was making it look, but seeing Billy's ass barely hanging onto a thread of his seat, I doubted I was successful. Damn it.
"It'll be fine," the tone was too perky, but it did make his dimple appear so I was counting it as a win. "How bad could it -"
She reentered the room with a sigh that made whatever I was planning to say fall from my lips. Looking up from the chart that she had been studying, I guess she read the tension in the room and her lips worked to form some semblance of a smile - it looked like harder work than necessary, but I was grateful for her attempt.
Taking the stool that seemed to always sit waiting for whichever physician happened to stumble into whichever examination room it lurked, she let out another breath, less sigh and more steadying and I felt my stress ratchet up ten degrees. "You know that we discussed birth control and how effective it might be in a situation such as yours," she was addressing only me, clearly sensing precisely how close to the edge Billy was at the current situation. "Well, I have good news -" the deep breaths she kept taking told me that the "good" news might just fucking be in the eye of the beholder, and she was praying we were beholding. "You don't need birth control at all." Wait, what? "During the procedures your body were put through, the trauma that you were -"
"Yer sayin' that thanks to that cape wearing fucker and Vought -" Billy's simmering rage was building faster than any storm in recorded history and I think we could all see the devastation approaching.
"I'm saying," I had to give the good doctor points for not only remaining calm in the face of a man on the verge of a violent outbreak, but she met his stare with poise that I would envy in other circumstances. "No one took the initiative to fully examine any lingering effects on Doctor Taylor's fertility after being given multiple concoctions that we're still trying to unravel fully." Her shoulders drooped, a tell of how she wasn't completely at ease at having overlooked something clearly important. "Of course, we all knew that we would have to update your progress continuously, but this -" Her focus was on me, and I knew I wasn't imagining the look of sympathy and pity that flashed across her features. "I'm sorry, Doctor -" she shook herself and scooted the stool closer to my seat on the examination table. "Veronica, I'm sorry that I missed this, that you were given any hope for -"
Shaking my head, I realized that while it was painful to think that I might have put a hope or idea of expanding a family to the man I love - who just might not want a child of his own, maybe this was for the best. "You couldn't know," after all, every single appointment or visit I'd had with the doctor had revealed more about what the chemical violation that first Homelander, then Vought had wrought on my body. "I'm sure if I hadn't gotten so sick -"
"More good news," this time her smile wasn't forced or difficult to come by. "Your illness was simply the common cold."
"You sure about that?" Billy's tone was still less than calm, but at least it wasn't as if the entire room was shaking from the anger rolling off of him. "You missed -"
"Billy," he moved closer at the softness in my voice, giving me the freedom to take his hand in mine and link our fingers. "She didn't miss it," I really fucking hoped I was imagining the growling that I both heard and felt vibrating through him. "She didn't." His eyes locked onto my face and it was his turn to take a deep breath. Good, calm the fuck down, would ya? "This is on me," his mouth opened to give me absolution, but I didn't allow his words to escape. "I'm the one who got sick and had a fever dream that linked how it made me feel when I got sick before." His eyes narrowed at the memory of the steam that warned us, but not well enough, of what was coming. "My fault, no one else's."
"Why'd you get a positive result?" He was slowly calming, even if the reminder of what got us here (and I didn't mean the false result of this last pregnancy test) had made his eyes tighten.
The doctor cleared her throat, reminding us that she was still in the room. "That would be because Veronica's," she stopped speaking and I could tell that she was weighing both how to tell Billy and how to word it so he didn't do something extreme - like making a doctor shaped hole in the wall of the door or yanking something expensive out of working order. "When those chemicals were introduced to your system," if the two of them didn't stop taking prolonged breaths, I might be tempted to search for an oxygen tank and masks. "They didn't just cause damage," of course not, that would be too fucking simple, wouldn't it? "They altered your genetic makeup, I'll need to do more tests," obviously Billy's face had warned of another onslaught and she was quick to head it off. "All I know for sure is that you are infertile and that somehow your body fluids aren't reacting as they should in the certain circumstances - like your urine and the pregnancy test."
"What other inconsistencies are there?" Now I was curious, and worried.
Back at our office, because if we weren't home then we were at work it seemed, Billy was far calmer than he had been since the doctor reentered the room with the reality of our situation. Me, on the other hand, well I was still processing what she'd told us.
So deep in thought I missed what Billy was saying, until I heard the very end.
"-and Edgars wants to meet this afternoon." Wait, what?
"I'm sorry, did you say you're planning on going into the lion's den?" He was seated next to me, his computer on and I realized he was going through his emails - something that had taken me too long to get him in the habit of doing. His smirk told me he knew that I had been a million miles away, and that he had pulled me back into the here and now.
"I'm saying that the head cunt wants to meet." My mouth dropped open and I couldn't find the words to say I thought it was a terrible fucking idea. "I accepted." The fucking -
"Without discussing it with me first?" He raised an eyebrow and I felt my fingers inch toward the temptation that was my stabler. "I have a meeting with -" glancing at my calendar I almost rolled my eyes. "Hughie's boss." Technically the woman who helped create our little endeavor, but still. "That means you're going in all alone and -"
"Worried I might come across the asshole draped in the stars and stripes and remember how you looked when the head labrat told you that your DNA is mangled thanks to his little fuckup?" Yes, I thought, that was precisely what I was scared the fuck of. "Now, Veronica Taylor, I think you're giving me far too little credit for my anger management skills." Could you go blind from rolling your eyes? Seriously, I might need to look into the odds after this conversation - if I could still fucking see, that is.
"You have anger management skills?" This I had to hear, and see if possible.
He turned his chair toward me, rolling himself closer, he leaned in and I felt something inside of me ratchet up a few notches. "Oh, I have plenty of skills, Ronnie." Oooh, boy didn't I know a few of those. "The one I use when I want to keep my temper?" His fingers were sliding along my cheekbones as his face drew closer to mine. "You." And then our lips met and I forgot for a while everything that had my nerves on edge, everything that I knew I'd have to face soon enough. While William Butcher held me, his mouth on mine tempting me in a way that only he seemed capable of, I forgot everything but him.
