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It wasn’t that hot of a day, but Grian felt like he was burning up.
Panting, he sank down in his chair, wings spread. They were holding a Life series meeting, and it was June, but he swore it hadn’t been this hot the last time they had done a meeting. It had been barely two weeks ago. It had been hotter two weeks ago. There wasn’t any reason for him to be laid out across the chair, wings dangling over the side and head resting against the back of it. The ice water in front of him wasn’t helping. As nice as it was, the fact that Cleo, Pearl, and Gem were all using their papers as makeshift fans to try cooling him off wasn’t helping, either.
Thankfully, everyone was ignoring him. He already had enough on his plate with the constant nausea that had been weighing on him for the past several days. Scar was sitting across the meeting table from him, fiddling with his thumbs and the bracelets. Every three seconds, green eyes settled on him. His husband was freaking out internally.
Honestly, Grian was most of the way to panicking himself. He’d been vomiting every single morning, almost exactly as six o’clock on the dot, for the past week. He would have taken the daily vomit session over the constant, unending nausea. He also would take it over whatever was making him so hot. He had already stripped off his sweater, leaving him in a black halter top, his black cargo pants (which he had rolled the legs up until they were effectively shorts), and his shoes. He was halfway to stripping off his shirt, too. Or dunking the ice water over his own head. Something like that. He was just baking, and he wanted to not be baking.
His mouth flooded with copper and foam. The nausea that had been roiling in his stomach for hours reared its head. Eyes wide, Grian sucked in a breath. Oh, no. No, no, I am not throwing up in front of everyone. Grabbing the sides of his chair, he shoved himself back and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Grian, wait!” Gem warned, reaching for him.
The world spun. Black spots danced in his vision. In the corner of his vision, Scar tried to stand up. He had to go right back down a second later, Impulse touching his shoulder. Grian staggered, trying to reach the closest chair. Forget the bathroom, he was going—everything was so hot, why was it so hot—
The world was too hot. It was tunneling inside. Gasping, he reached a hand out for the closest chair, or—whatever. His stomach seized, his chest and ribs tightened, his heart was pounding way too quickly. Someone’s hand wrapped around his arm. “Grian—Grian, look at me, focus on me.” Pearl, that was Pearl, where was Jimmy—
“He’s turning green!”
“Pearl, get him on the ground, he’s going to pass out!” Jimmy shouted. Quickly, Pearl tried to ease him to the ground. There was a bucket suddenly in his face. Retching, Grian staggered again. His heart was pounding too quickly. The world was still spinning. Jimmy and Pearl’s faces loomed in his vision, doubling and blurring and—“Pearl!”
Gagging, Grian threw up. The world spun again. Jimmy and Pearl moved at his side. The world faded. In the corner of his eye, he saw the edge of the table approaching.
There was a spark of pain in his cheek, then nothing.
xxx
When he woke, someone was cupping the back of his head and he couldn’t breathe.
“Grian, Grian, look at me,” Bdubs leaned above him. Retching again, Grian grabbed onto his arms. Gasping, he fought to try and get on his side. The world was still spinning. Someone shoved a bucket beneath his face. He hurled again.
“Grian!” Scar shouted.
“Scar, you need to stay back, dude—” Ren cautioned. Raising his head, panting, Grian looked around. He could still barely see things. The world was still spinning. He couldn’t—
His head hurt. His stomach was still flipping. His heart wouldn’t—
“Grian, what’s your favorite dinosaur?”
Turning, Grian stared at Bdubs. What? Panting, he croaked, “What?”
“What’s your favorite dinosaur?” The words were frantic. Bdubs’ hands had landed on his, squeezing gently. Swallowing, grimacing at the awful taste in his mouth, Grian kept looking at him.
What is my favorite dinosaur? He thought about it. Staring at the floor, he paused a few moments. Then, he rasped, “Hypsilophodon.”
“How do you spell it?”
Grian frowned, “H-p—no, H-y-p-s-i-l-o-p-h-o-d-o-n.”
Everyone was staring at him. Looking around, Grian frowned. He winced when he did, gingerly touching the side of his head. It felt like he was bleeding. “How did you do that, Bdubs?” Joel asked.
“You alright, Grian?” Shakily, Grian nodded. Bdubs handed him a water bottle. Then, he turned, “Method of confusion. People don’t ask about favorite dinosaurs, so it’s a weird question and it makes you think. So you give a different crisis than the current one, the panic attack. Sometimes it doesn’t work, so—have a backup plan.”
“What was your backup plan?”
“Making him do math.”
“If you make me do math, I will get violent.” Grian threatened. Then he threw up in the bucket. Glancing at him, Bdubs rubbed between his shoulders.
“Buddy, you have a concussion and just passed out. I think we have more important things to worry about than you getting violent.”
“I’ll throw up on your pillow.” Grian revised. Finally, Scar was able to get over to him. Lying down, Grian rested his head on Scar’s lap. His husband’s fingers trailed through his hair, smoothing it back. Smiling, Grian turned and looked for his siblings. Jimmy and Pearl were settled down nearby. “I want a nap.”
“Alright. We’re ending the meeting. Uhm…can someone call a medic?” Scar glanced around. “Because we might end up having two fainting patients in a second.”
“Lay down, lay down.” Grian ordered. Blinking, Scar flopped back. His eyes dulled out. Thankfully, someone caught him. Grian sighed. “Of course. At least him passing out is normal.”
Skizz mumbled, “Ehh, doesn’t make either of you less—”
With a bark of a laugh, Grian smacked the man in the shin. He couldn’t hit him anywhere else, his arms weren’t long enough. “Hey, don’t kick a downed man.”
Apparently, Skizz’s words were enough to get him, Impulse, Tango, and Ren dragged into moving Grian and Scar into the infirmary for Gem’s sake. Then, she and Martyn swiftly kicked everyone out. As she puttered around, pulling out potions and water bottles, she ordered, “Martyn, check their code. I want to make sure they don’t have a virus or anything.”
“On it.” Martyn replied. Going over the code, he suddenly paused. “Uhm, Grian.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you been off Hermitcraft’s anytime in the past five months?”
“That’s…a very specific number, got any specific reason?” Grian replied, smiling. When he saw the look on Martyn’s face, he dropped it. “I mean, there’s been a couple of the Life series. Why?”
Martyn looked up and said, “Because unless if there’s something I don’t know about avian physiology that you need to tell me about, you have two heartbeats instead of one.” He paused. Then, turning to show Grian his code, he added, “Grian, I think you’re pregnant.”
Looking at the code, Grian felt the world go hot again. He looked at Martyn. Then, more confidently than he was about anything else going on, he announced, “I’m going to pass out again.”
And he did.
xxx
When he woke, Scar was sitting beside him in a chair and reading a book on parenting.
Well, biscuits. I guess that wasn’t a dream, then. Taking a slow breath, he forced out, “What’s the diagnosis?”
Lifting his head, Scar cracked a weak smile. “Congrats. It’s…a baby?” Dropping his head back against the pillows, Grian groaned. “We can—we can terminate, if you want to.”
“Do you want to?” Grian asked, turning to look at Scar. Closing the parenting book—which had quite a bit of notes scribbled down already (he’s been struggling through reading that for me? Or at least for the baby?)—Scar looked at him softly.
“I’m not the one who’s going to be carrying it.” Something about Scar calling their baby “it” annoyed him. Eyes narrowing, Grian looked at him. “I’m only using that phrase because I don’t know your preference.”
“Them.” Crossing his arms, shifting as he settled himself more comfortably, he added, “I wanted kids. The only time I didn’t was before I escaped…Them.” He didn’t want to name Them. Naming Them was dangerous. Thinking about Them was dangerous. If he did, then he would risk—he would risk the other them, the them—
“Well, I want kids, too.” Pausing, Scar said, “Think we’re ready now?”
“Probably not.” Grian laughed. Smiling, Scar reached over for his hand. Grian crossed the distance, tangling their fingers together. “Guess that’s true of all parents, right?”
“I suppose. Just to check—excuse the language—” Scar paused, like he wasn’t going to continue anyways, “But, just to check, you’re a hell yes, I want kids?”
“Do you remember how hard the others had to fight me to get the Geggs back after they turned them in? I stole them!” Grian laughed.
Looking at him, Scar shrugged, “I didn’t want to ask in case it was an instincts thing!”
“It was not—okay, maybe a little bit.” Scar was still looking at him expectantly (ha, he was so funny, wasn’t that an interesting choice of words?). Rolling his eyes and still smiling, Grian said, “Yes, Scar, that is a “hell yes”.”
“Whoo!” Throwing his arms in the air excitedly, Scar flailed when he lost his balance and fell. Grian stared at him in horror, eyes wide. Lying on the tile floor awkwardly, Scar paused. His mouth was drawn into a thin line. Then, green eyes darting around, he swallowed and then smiled sheepishly, giving Grian the most awkward of double thumbs-up. “I’m okay.”
Smiling at him, Grian rolled his eyes. “You better not make me a single father, Scar.”
“I won’t, I won’t! Oh, I gotta go let someone know you’re awake.” Continuing to flail, Scar twisted around and then staggered to his feet. With a quick kiss to the top of Grian’s head, he hurried off. Grian watched him, smiling.
Not even a minute later, Scar came sprinting back into the room. His shoulder slammed into the door. Poking her head in, Gem winced and murmured a soft scolding, opening the door much more gently. Her eyes landed on Grian. The green softened. Smiling, she tilted her head to the side. “Grian. How do you feel?”
“Not concussed, all things considered. Healing potions?”
“Mhmm! Joel knew the recipe since the Empires group had a pregnancy a while back that was…interesting.” As she spoke, Gem grimaced. Grian decided he…was not going to ask about that. Sitting on the bed, Gem pulled out a book and said, “Well, Grian. Good news, the baby is completely unharmed. I have a prescription for prenatal medication that you’ll have to take regularly, I’ve already let Stress know—”
“How far along am I?” Grian asked. That question was more important. Please don’t be for a long time. It can’t be for a long time. I can’t—
“You are three and a half months, which is why you’ve had such bad nausea lately. Yeah, Scar told me about that.” Gem glanced at him scoldingly. Wincing sheepishly, Grian turned to look at his husband. Again, Scar smiled awkwardly. “So. We have information on pregnancy, avian pregnancy because I asked Pearl and she implied you never had the chance to learn about it, I’m pretty sure someone snuck some baby clothes into your house, it’s a whole thing. Joel’s managed to get you some Empires merch? I don’t even know how. It just—it’s there. I think we have a Sheriff—”
“Oh, Timmy’s going to hate that.” Grian said, unconsciously resting a hand on his stomach. How did I miss three and a half months of pregnancy?
“Before you start guilt-tripping yourself—and I know you’re doing that, not only did Pearl warn me but I have eyes, Grian,” Gem started, “—most people don’t realize they’re pregnant immediately.”
“Yeah, but five weeks is different from—”
“Most avians don’t realize until they’re three months, you’re right on schedule.” Gem interrupted, looking at him. Eyes sparking, she smiled and continued, “It’s because you don’t gain weight the same way that most other hybrids do, or else you wouldn’t be able to fly normally. Plus, you’d be a target, it’s a whole thing. Long story.”
“I understand none of that. Do you understand?” Scar turned to look at Grian, then paused. “Hold on. Wait. How did Joel—why did Joel stick the baby onesies in if he didn’t know that we wanted the kid? Even we didn’t know until a few moments ago.”
“Have you seen Joel move when Jimmy is trying to destroy the Sheriff merch?” Gem laughed. “He’s fast.”
“Also, he probably eavesdropped.” Grian said.
“Probably.” Gem’s communicator buzzed. Looking down, she added, “Joe Hills wants to know what color nursery you want.”
“But—he’s not on the server?” Grian stared at the blankets. “How does he know?”
“Do you think we can paint it green?” Scar asked, turning to Grian. Again, Gem’s communicator buzzed. Both of them looked at her. She read the message.
“He wants to know if you want it to be emerald green or grass green.”