Nick yawned and ducked back into the treatment bay. Mrs. Ruffino had visited the hospital five times in the few months since Nick started here. No one was that clumsy. He looked over today's crop of injuries. She couldn't open her left eye because it had swelled shut. She could only breathe through her mouth, because her nose was too puffy and damaged. If it wasn't broken, Nick would voluntarily eat that caramelized cream sauce Tom had come up with every night for a month.

And she couldn't use any of the fingers on her right hand. Great. That was going to come in very handy in her job as a medical transcriptionist.

He looked around. The ER wasn't too busy today. He could get away with this. He looked down again, checking her records.

"Is everything okay?” Mrs. Ruffino's voice had turned thin and a little reedy. Maybe they needed to get film of her ribs, too.

"I'm not the one in an ER for the eleventh time since July, Mrs. Ruffino.” Nick sat down on the edge of her bed and kept his voice soft, so it wouldn't attract too much attention. "I'm not here to judge you. I am going to give you fair warning, though.” He held up her chart. "I might have only gotten to see you five times, but medical records are electronic these days. We find stuff, ma'am. We're in the business of being nosy when it comes to our patients. We have to be, because we have to give our patients the best possible treatment."

She looked away. "You don't know what it's like."

Nick shrugged. "Like I said. I'm not here to judge you. I can tell you I've been sitting in that bed, though.” He made himself grin. "Wasn't my boyfriend. It was my dad. And he did a lot worse to my mom."

"How did she make him stop?” She toyed with the edge of the blanket. She still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She didn't. He met a younger girl who didn't have a kid.” Nick kept his voice as neutral as he could. He wasn't about to pretend the betrayal didn't still hurt, especially when his dad hadn't ever paid a cent of support. But that wasn't Mrs. Ruffino's problem. "I do know he wound up killing Shayla, though. It was kind of a scandal.” He put a hand on her good arm, the left one.

Mrs. Ruffino shook her head. She only moved it a little, and even doing that much must have hurt. "I don't think he'd ever go that far. It's just he gets so mad, you know? He has a bad day and he just needs to let all of that frustration out."

Nick nodded. He'd heard that logic before. The one abusing her had probably gone out of his way to "make it up to her" every time. "That's probably true," he told her. "He's what, he's a Marine, right? Recruiting officer? That's a high-stress job, and if he has trouble meeting his targets, a lot of people are going to come down on him pretty hard."

"They have been. Recruitment's been hard lately.” She dabbed at her eyes.

He passed her a box of tissues. "Here's the thing, Mrs. Ruffino. I'm not here to judge you, and I'm not here to judge him.” That last part was a lie, but he didn't think she needed to hear that right now. "He needs counseling. You probably do too. I'm not equipped to give it to you. You want to go to a professional for this one. Me, I'm just here to give you ice, maybe put in a stitch or two, and pass you on to Radiology."

"Radiology?” Mrs. Ruffino winced. "Do I have to?"

"Everything's a choice.” Nick gave her a smile that he hoped was encouraging. "Here's the thing, ma'am. If you want to breathe normally again, you're going to need to get that nose re-set. And if you want to type again, you're going to need to get those fingers re-set. That means radiology, so the surgeons—"

"Surgery?” Mrs. Ruffino wailed and then covered her mouth with her hands.

"You can talk to the doctor, but I can't imagine you getting full use of those fingers back without surgery. And Mrs. Ruffino, I want you to get full control of your life back. Which means full use of your fingers and full breathing.” Nick met her eyes.

She cringed, but she nodded. "Okay."

"Good. And I'll ask social work to send someone to your room, when your husband isn't around. They can help you a lot better than I can. They'll help you make some sense of what's going on.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. "I'll be checking in too. You're not alone here, Mrs. Ruffino. It just feels like it.”

He stepped out into the hallway and updated the doctor on Mrs. Ruffino's situation. He agreed with Nick's assessment and ordered the pictures and the visit from the hospital social worker. Then he squinted at Nick. "How come you didn't just tell her to leave?"

Nick snorted. "She's not going to leave just because someone tells her to. She's stayed with him this long, remember? A lot of people have a thing about leaving. It's just not done, no matter what. Pushing her is going to have the opposite effect. Being sympathetic, and listening to her, is the help she needs.” He yawned. "Sorry. It's not the company."

"Late night last night?” Dr. Mann waggled his eyebrows. It was gross, and it would have been even more disgusting if this particular doctor wasn't an omega like Nick.

"Hah. No. No, after the delightful dinner my boyfriend and my son prepared, no one was feeling at all frisky.” He shuddered. "It just feels like I haven't been able to get out of bed lately. I don't know what it is. Seasonal stuff, maybe.”

The doctor scratched his cheek. "You could be getting anemic. That's something you don't want to let get away from you. Why don't I run a blood test and see what you've got going on? It's not like it costs extra, and it's better to know so you can get it taken care of before it becomes a crisis.”

"I don't know.” Nick shifted his weight. "Seems like an awful lot of fuss."

"There's no fuss, Nick. And you've got a little boy to think of. He's the important one here. You can't afford to wait until something blows up in your face to take care of your health. Not if it's something you could easily deal with by taking a pill and maybe getting a little more sleep.” The doctor gave Nick an old-fashioned look.

"Yeah, I guess you're right.” He took a deep breath. "A little blood test never hurt anyone, I suppose."

"Except the occasional hemophiliac, but that would probably have come up before now.” Dr. Mann wandered off and came back with a piece of paper. "Bring this down to the blood lab on your next break. They'll get you right in, I promise."

Nick headed down to the lab the minute his next break arrived. Mal didn't say anything, but had a cup of coffee waiting for him when he got back.

"How'd you know where I was?” Nick took the coffee from his friend, but he couldn't help but be suspicious about it. Had Mal been snooping?

"You've been stumbling around here like Nurse of the Living Dead. When I saw that doctor lecturing you, of course I figured he was sending you down for a test.” “It's only right.” Mal rolled his eyes at Nick. "Touchy much?” Then he laughed. "So how did the big father-son day out go?"

Nick groaned. "It went pretty well, actually. For everything but my stomach. Does Trent cook for you?"

"Sometimes.” Mal ducked into a supply closet and got to straightening up. A disorganized supply closet could be the difference between life and death for a patient. "Neither one of us is great at it, but we're trying to eat healthier. You know, for the baby."

"Right.” Nick rubbed at his hands. "For the baby."

"Speaking of which..."

"Oh God, Mal, you can't seriously be pregnant again. Your kid is only six months old! Your body can't have healed by now.” Nick leaned in and hissed out his words, to protect Mal's privacy.

Mal chuckled. "I'm not pregnant again. At least not as far as I know. But Nick, have you given any thought to whether or not that might be part of your issue?"

Nick scoffed. "No. No way. We're careful."

"I was careful with Trent too. Very careful, all things considered. Condoms fail sometimes. They just do. It's not something to be ashamed of, you know? You're both consenting adults, and it's not exactly like you were looking for it. If it turns out that you are pregnant, of course.” Mal's pink tongue darted over his lips.

Nick bit his lip. "I bought a box of fresh condoms when he got back from his deployment, but he had a box in his apartment. Maybe they weren't so fresh. I don't know. I trusted him."

"And you should trust him.” Mal put a hand on his arm. "Like I said, these things happen. Wait for the blood test results, just accept that they might not be what you want to see. Okay?"

Nick took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I can wait. I guess. Not the end of the world."

"Good man. Come on. Let's get back out there before someone thinks something's going on.” Mal led the way out of the supply closet.

Nick yawned his way through work, and he went to bed at the same time as his son. He wasn't ashamed of it at all, either. Maybe he should have been, only twenty-eight and sleeping at nine o'clock like a schoolboy, but right now all he wanted was his bed.

The next day Nick managed to push the blood test, and the distressing possibility of pregnancy, out of his mind. A nursing home affiliated with the Veteran's Administration had suffered an outbreak of salmonella poisoning, and Portsmouth took the lion's share of those cases. He kept busy taking samples, inserting IVs, and giving medicine until his very late lunch, which he took with Mal.

Dr. Mann looked over at Mal and cleared his throat. "You want me to come back another time?"

Mal immediately picked up his tray and made as if to move. "It's all good. I don't mind."

Nick reached out and put a hand on Mal's arm. "Please. Stay.” He forced a shaky grin onto his face. "I don't have anything to hide, and Mal's really my closest friend here."

The doctor tossed Mal a quick grin. "Okay, then. Well, you do seem to have a touch of anemia, which you can probably fix with diet instead of supplements if you want. You should follow up with your own primary care doctor in a few weeks. But the biggest thing, Nick, is that you're having a baby."

Nick dropped his hand from Mal's arm. He dimly recognized that someone had put their arm around him, and he knew that someone was Mal, but his entire world had narrowed to the table in front of him and that one word echoing in his head. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, Nick. I've done this sort of thing before.” Dr. Mann snickered. "I'd say congratulations are in order, but considering how pale you just got I'm guessing this isn't exactly a joyful occasion."

Nick couldn't speak. His tongue was a balloon in his mouth, too big and clumsy and useless to move. Thank God for Mal. "It's unexpected," Mal told the doctor. "They've been cautious, I know."

"Well, these things happen. Hopefully you and the father can work something out.” The doctor put a hand on Nick's shoulder. "I know you'll be a good dad, since you're so devoted to that son of yours. Things will work themselves out otherwise. You're going to be okay."

Nick nodded dumbly, Mal thanked him, and the doctor shuffled away.

Once they were alone, Nick found he could react. He buried his face in his arms, put his head down, and cried. Mal rubbed little circles into his back and didn't try to stop him at all.

"What am I supposed to do with another kid? I can barely take care of the one I've got!” Nick raised his head a few minutes later and sniffed, loudly. "Tom’s parents are already out to get me, and what about Sammy? He's already on edge because of Tom. When I tell him there's another baby on the way, he's going to flip. He's absolutely going to flip."

Mal squirmed. "I've no idea how he's going to respond.” He cleared his throat. "I mean I've got sibs, but we're closer in age and all that. But I do know Sammy's a great kid, and he's just amazing with babies. I think if you put it to him in such a way that he feels important, and useful, then he'll probably be okay with it.”

"And as for Tom's parents—fuck 'em."

Nick gasped. "Mal!  They're his parents. They're my son's grandparents!” He leaned back. "Tom loves his parents. I have to be respectful of them, if only because of Tom."

"You do.” Mal snorted and went back to eating his lunch. "I don't. Say the word and every mortgage payment they've ever made goes up in smoke. If they're seriously 'out to get you,' I'll make them wish they'd never stirred out of their house.” Mal shrugged, like it really wasn't anything to him.

"Mal—that would ruin them.” Nick blinked.

"And you getting cut loose, with no way of contacting the father of your child, didn't leave you pretty close to ruined yourself?” Mal speared a cucumber in his salad with a little extra viciousness. "I only say 'close to' because it's obvious you found a way to thrive, but I know it damn near broke you. I know, because you've told me. You're my friend. My loyalty is to you, not to those people.” His grin was savage.

Nick gaped. No part of him thought Mal was joking. Deep inside of him, a little kernel of warmth took root. No one had ever been willing to fight like this for him before. Maybe it was wrong, and plenty of state and federal statutes certainly claimed it was illegal. It was all in Nick's defense, though, and he loved it.

"Thanks, Mal. I don't think we need to go quite that far at this point, but I appreciate it.”

"Okay.” Mal relaxed his shoulders just a little bit. "Whatever you need, I'll be there.”

Nick didn't doubt it. He had faith in Tom, to a point, but somehow Mal's complete conviction on this point set his mind at ease. Welcoming a new baby into the world wouldn't be easy, but it would be better than it had been the last time.

***

Tom couldn't get out of that workshop fast enough. He got through the door first, grateful for the crisp air of fall. There had to be a better way, damn it. He didn't mind the risk for himself, but what about the guys with families? What about the bomb dogs, who had no choice in the matter and thought they were looking for a toy?

He brought himself up short. Tom was one of those guys with families now.

He kicked himself. He'd always been a guy with a family. He had loving parents, even if he didn't quite understand the way they showed their love right now. His parents were still family. They weren't family he'd created, but they were still family. He needed to get over this weird pro generative bias he'd picked up somewhere.

"You okay, bro?” Lupo appeared beside him, almost as if by magic, and put a hand on his back. "The way you booked out of there, it was like your pants were on fire."

"I guess that could be arranged. Someone's pants, anyway.” Tom made himself grin. "I'm just—overwhelmed, I guess. I hate that stuff."

"What, the bomb stuff?” Lupo waved a dark hand. "I'd have thought you'd be all over that shit. You're totally Mr. Science, and bombs are all about science, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, they are.” Tom ran his tongue against the back of his teeth. "I just can't help but think it's wasteful. And it's cruel. There has got to be a better way to find these things than killing dogs and risking men."

Lupo nodded slowly. "Okay, valid. You know what I say to that?"

"Have a couple of beers and think about something else for a while?” Tom closed his eyes and straightened up. That was the standard response, in this platoon anyway. They weren't here to sit and think about the whys. They were here to follow orders and come back alive.

"Nah.” Lupo grinned. "You're Mr. Science. Figure it out. Patent that shit. Make a billion dollars and buy that sweet omega nurse of yours a nice house out in the country."

Tom, startled, threw his head back and laughed. "You know what? I just might do that."

"You do and thousands of guys just like me all over these armed forces will be thanking you.” Lupo winked and kept heading toward the parking lot.

Tom watched him go. What would it take to build something that would detect IEDs at a distance, that would be cheaper and more reliable than dogs and humans?

He pulled out his phone to make a note. He'd write it down later, and flesh out some ideas. He wasn't going to stay in the Navy forever. Maybe someday he could work on inventing exactly such a piece of equipment. He didn't know about making a billion dollars, but he could absolutely see making a living at that sort of thing. He didn't know how to get started, but there were probably people who could guide him in the right direction.

When he looked down at his screen, though, a different set of futures lined up for him. He had a notification for having received a text from Nick. Of course he hadn't gotten the text while he'd been in class, his phone had been off.

The wording of the text was simple and curt, completely unlike Nick. We need to talk.

He hung his head. Nick wasn’t usually that cold. Had Tom’s parents gotten to him? Had Sammy decided he just didn’t want to know Tom? Maybe he’d just decided he could do better than Tom. He'd realized he wanted more than some grunt, a disposable asset the Navy could just toss halfway around the world and throw away on a whim.

I'll be right there. He might as well get it over with.

Tom's stomach was in knots by the time he got to the tiny house in Portsmouth. Mal was there already, but he was on his way out the door with Sammy in tow. "Hey there, Tom.” Mal grinned at him. "Sammy's just going to come on by my place so I can help him with some homework. I'll have him back before bed.”

"Bye, Tom.” Sammy gave him a little smile.

"By, Sam.” Tom ruffled Sammy's hair as he went by. He wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Nick had sent their son away for the meeting. The fact that he'd gotten a smile out of him, though, made him relax instinctively. Maybe they weren't at a point yet where Sammy was calling Tom "Dad," but Tom had gotten a smile and an acknowledgement out of the kid. It was enough for him, for now.

Maybe Nick would let him stay involved with Sammy's life, after he delivered the killing blow.

Tom went inside and found Nick sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket. "You okay?" he asked. All of his worries about being dumped went out the window when he found Nick like that. He looked so young, and so vulnerable, all Tom wanted to do was wrap him up in his arms and keep him safe.

"Yeah, I guess.” Nick toyed with the edge of his blanket. "I, ah. I found out why I've been so sleepy lately.” He swallowed hard. "One of the doctors at the ER noticed and gave me a blood test."

Tom's blood froze. Was it cancer? AIDS? Something else, something worse? Something untreatable? Tom didn't know a lot about medicine. He knew there were plenty of things out there that he didn't understand, enough to make him very afraid. "Whatever it is, Nick, I'm here for you. Don't worry about a thing. We'll find a way, okay?"

Nick laughed and huddled in on himself. "Tom, it happened again. I'm pregnant again."

Tom flopped down onto the couch beside Nick. "Wait. Pregnant?"

"Pregnant.” Nick pulled in even farther, as if it could help make him smaller. "Probably about four weeks, maybe a little more. Enough to show up on the blood test, anyway."

Tom's arms felt numb, but he wrapped them around Nick anyway. "Okay. Obviously I have no real aversion to making children with you. We have a son together, and he's perfect. You understand that, right?"

Nick nodded. He relaxed into Tom's touch, but only a little. "I know. And Sammy's the best kid a person could hope for. I'm just. It's just. We didn't plan for this. We've only been back together for a couple of months—not even that long, really. Your parents hate me, and everything the last time was so awful that now I'm just kind of averse to the whole thing."

Tom couldn't argue with any of it. He wanted to. He wanted to insist that there'd been some kind of misunderstanding with his parents, that something somewhere had gone terribly wrong with regards to communication, and they could all resolve it with a family cookout or something, but deep down he knew it would take something more.

He locked the door to the house, and carried Nick to the bedroom. Then he tucked Nick into bed before crawling in beside him. "I promised you I'd be here for you no matter what. And I meant that. There will be times I get pulled away on deployments, sure. That's my job. But Nick," he continued, and pulled him so close there wasn't room for a piece of paper between them, "I'm still here for you all of the time, no matter what. I'm going to be a father for this baby, from the very start. And I'm going to be here to make sure Sammy knows the new baby doesn't change how loved he is. I'm going to make sure you don't have to feel like you're on your own, ever again."

Nick cried himself to sleep in Tom's arms. It was an odd reaction, one Tom had heard about but hadn't seen before. Did Nick not believe him? Were these tears of joy or tears of grief? He didn't know. He couldn't know.

He hated things he couldn't understand. He couldn't do anything about it, though. All he could do was keep holding Nick.

They woke up from their nap a couple of hours later. Nick seemed to be feeling better, at least. He looked up at Tom and smiled. "Sorry I lost it on you there."

Tom stroked his blond hair. "Don't apologize. I'm not saying this isn't challenging. We'll figure it out. We're two smart, resourceful guys.” He bit his lip. Was it a smart idea to bring up a painful past? He wasn't so sure. Still he felt like he didn't have a choice. "Look, when you did this the last time, you were out of the house with the clothes on your back, and you figured it out. Imagine how you'll rock it with two awesome brains instead of one—hell, three, once Sammy's read in—and a stable roof and income."

Nick laughed, to Tom's relief. "Yeah, the whole stable job and living situation does help, believe it or not.” He inclined his head up to kiss Tom. "I'm scared, but I want to make this work for both of us."

Tom kissed him back, and in a flash Nick had climbed up onto Tom. Tom grinned as they made out lazily for a little while. Nick was like a heated blanket, hot and ready to hold him in bed for a good long while. He could stay like this forever.

Then Nick rolled off of him, left hand trailing down the length of his torso. He moved just slowly enough that the tension sent all of Tom's blood south, a feline little smile playing around his lips the whole time.

"Is it all right if I taste you?” Nick's hand hovered over the fly to Tom's pants.

Tom stripped himself out of his uniform faster than he'd ever moved in his life. He couldn't quite tell what had caused this turnaround in his lover, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

Nick traced a line from Tom's hip down to his balls with his tongue. Years ago, Nick had been shy about oral and kind of hesitant. Now, though, he was downright eager. Tom decided he wasn't going to think about those changes and what had brought them around. He hadn't been celibate since they'd parted ways, and he didn't expect Nick had either. If he thought too hard about it, though, he'd only think dark thoughts about coercion and bleak necessities. Those weren't necessarily supported by anything but Tom's own fears, so he decided to force his mind to stay on track and focus on the beautiful task at hand.

Nick warmed him up with little kitten licks before taking him into his mouth. He worked his way into it, bobbing his head so that Tom's thick cock worked its way slowly back into his mouth. Nick's hazel eyes looked up into Tom's the whole time, full of love and trust.

Tom didn't deserve it, any of it. He didn't deserve Nick's love, not yet. He definitely hadn't earned Nick's trust, either. He would cheerfully spend the rest of his life striving for both, though.

His hips bucked as his body instinctively sought to bury himself even deeper in Nick's hot body, but he got control of himself before he could go too far. Nick just rested his right arm over Tom's hips and laughed, low and dirty in his throat. That laugh sent the most magnificent vibrations up the shaft of Tom's cock, and his orgasm exploded out of him with all the shock and force of a surface to air missile.

Nick swallowed every drop. Then he crawled back up Tom's body and rested by his side. The cotton of his scrubs chafed against Tom's oversensitive skin, but Tom ignored it to take Nick back into his arms again. "Has anyone told you today that you're amazing?" he asked.

Nick chuckled. "Nope."

"You're amazing. And I for one am determined to be excited about this baby.” Tom kissed Nick, and a little thrill ran up his spine when he recognized his own taste on his lover's lips.

Nick just hummed and stayed put for a moment. They couldn't spend too much time in bed, though. They had to get up and get cleaned up, since Sammy was coming home soon. Nick said he wanted to get dinner on the table too, although he was willing to wait until after Sammy went to bed to eat.

Tom decided he'd get them takeout, to celebrate the occasion. They ordered from a local noodle place, and Tom went to get it. By the time he got back, Mal had delivered Sammy back to him. Sammy bounced around the living room and talked about everything he'd done at Mal's place, while Nick watched indulgently, and then he put Sammy to bed.

When he came back down, he yawned. "Am I really ready to deal with all of that energy again?" he asked with a little laugh.

"When do you want to tell him?” Tom set the food out on the coffee table. There wasn't any pressing need to go sit at the dining table tonight. He wanted Nick to be as comfortable as he could be.

"I don't know. Maybe over the weekend.” Nick bit his lip and sat back down. "It's weird. I'm not sure how he's going to react, but we should tell him sooner rather than later.” He leaned against Tom for a second once Tom took his own place. "Mal knows, just so you're aware."

Tom scowled. "You told him first?"

Nick snorted. "No. He was there when the doctor gave me the blood test results. Pregnancy wasn't even remotely on my radar. Even the doctor was only thinking anemia.” He sighed and turned his sad gaze over to Tom. "Please don't be angry."

Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think I was angry. I'm not. I was jealous, sure, but I wasn't angry per se. I'm still jealous, but that's not your fault and not your problem.” Tom had a lot to make up for. Maybe not everything he had to make up for was his fault, either, but this was. And it was his problem, too. "I feel a lot of guilt, you know? It's not my fault that I missed out on everything with Sammy and all. But I still did. And I guess I'm just feeling kind of touchy about it, you know? I'll get through it."

Nick rested his head on Tom's shoulder. "We'll get through it. Together."

Tom smiled and relaxed. "Together."

They took up their cartons of food and started dinner in peace, with a quiet documentary on the television for background noise. Tom truly felt at home.