Feb. 14, 2013: Something Inside Me

Even with the pregnancy, Sonny’s heat sickness hadn’t gone away. Doctor Hubbard could offer no advice- he had never seen a pregnancy begin after hormone toxicity had set in, and certainly not at such a late stage. 

“However,” he had said, “It’s a miracle all the same.”

Sonny hadn’t really wanted Joel’s little miracle, truth be told, but he refrained from saying it. 

Doctor Hubbard had instructed him to inform him immediately if any potential complications arose, and continue taking the medicine he had been prescribed to ensure his own body wouldn’t terminate the pregnancy due to an immune response. He had explained that the baby could be human, Teegeean, or a hybrid of both- but that it was best to continue suppressing his immune system, so they weren’t banking on a 33% chance of survival. That made sense to everyone but Sonny himself, who wasn’t certain how his body was supposed to support a baby when it was struggling to support him alone already.

Nobody explained that to him. At some point he’d decided it wasn’t worth asking anymore. The idea seemed to be that Sonny’s own life relied on the baby surviving, not the other way around. Or maybe just that the baby was more important.

In the present, Sonny laid on the couch, no pants on but plenty warm under a few blankets and snuggled up to his husband. This morning had been less rough on him than others. He could get up and move around largely on his own, and the painkillers were doing a fairly decent job keeping his constant headache at bay, even if it was replaced by some worse-than-usual stomach cramps.  

Joel was laying on top of Sonny, content and happy, finger tracing lines across Sonny’s stomach. He wasn’t far enough along to have any kind of bump there, but he could tell Joel was eagerly awaiting the day he did, because he’d become endlessly fascinated with the region.

It was Valentine’s day, and that brought with it all kinds of nice things- Joel and Sonny had the house to themselves for one, since Katie was at work and Mr. and Mrs. Moore were going on a romantic day trip to Disneyland. They’d bought a few tickets more, of course, it was initially meant to be a family thing, but… it was months in advance, when Sonny was still feeling well enough to go out places. Plans had changed, and Sonny insisted he wasn’t jealous or anything, and he stayed home with Joel rewatching Titanic like he wasn’t going to cry at the end. 

“You know, Rose would be a really pretty name if it’s a girl,” Joel commented, looking up at Sonny. Sonny shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess. Not very Teegeean, though.”

“Sonny John Moore doesn’t sound very Teegeean, either.”

“Yeah, because my real name is Skrillex.” Sonny reached for the heart-shaped box of chocolates Joel had bought, popping one in his mouth. It was one of the gross orange creme ones, but it’d be kind of rude to spit out, so he ate it anyway. “Sonny was what my parents were going to name their kid if Mom wasn’t infertile. And John’s my bio-dad’s human name.”

“What about your sister? Isn’t she older than you? Actually, couldn’t you have-”

“She’s not Teegeean,” Sonny answered, taking a chocolate from the box and offering it to Joel, who gratefully accepted. “They were already in the adoption process when I was born.”

“Ugh, I hate coconut,” Joel interrupted.

“Ooh, I love coconut. Let me get that for you.” Sonny smiled and pulled Joel up for a kiss, sloppy and open-mouthed. Joel did, in fact, taste like coconut. Sonny snatched the chocolate right off his tongue and pulled away with a grin, happy and self-satisfied. Joel watched him, nose scrunched up in disgust.

“That might be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Not true,” Sonny quipped. “There was that gross-ass venue bathroom in Memphis where you fucked me on the sink counter even though it was sticky.”

“I still don’t know what you have to do to get a bathroom sink sticky. ”

“Probably the same thing we were doing. But with more popsicles involved.”

Joel made a face at that, and Sonny started laughing until his stomach cramps decided he needed to stop being so happy. He cut himself off with a rough cough, hand coming to rest on his stomach.

“God, I don’t know what’s with these cramps. They’re usually not so bad.”

“Growing pains?” Joel suggested.

“Maybe I should have actually read those books Mom gave me.”

Joel didn’t comment on that, because somehow, it’d be embarrassing to admit he had read through them and they’d said your cramps shouldn’t be worse than mild.

“It’s probably just growing pains,” Joel said, despite his better judgement. “Let me kiss it better.”

Sonny smiled and rolled his eyes as Joel did exactly that, leaving kisses along his tummy, slowly traveling lower. Sonny accepted the affection gratefully, closing his eyes and throwing his head back against the armrest. How long had it been since Joel touched him like this, kind and gentle and loving? How long since he could feel the affection pooling in Joel’s fingertips against his skin? It was almost like the last time was just a horrible fever dream brought on by his sickness, because Joel could never hurt him. Not this Joel. Not the sweet, quietly adoring Joel he’d always known…

“Uh.” Joel’s voice, rough hewn, cut through the blissful quiet. “I think that’s blood.”

“What?” Sonny asked, eyes opening as he sat up further. 

“Yeah, unless you got some really weird touristy boxers when we went to Japan that time.”

“Joel, knock it off, that’s not funny!” Sonny sat up, throwing the blanket off of them both. “Where’s the blood coming from?!”

“Uh…” Joel pulled off Sonny’s blood-stained underwear. “Looks like your ass.”

“Shit.” Sonny pushed Joel back and got up onto his knees. He checked the couch, and- yep, he’d stained his mother’s white couch, shit- then pulled up his underwear. “Baby, call Doctor Hubbard. Like, right now.”

“The Triumph, being pulled by a trio of tugboats, is scheduled to limp into Mobile, Alabama, sometime Thursday night. Its stranding is expensive for Carnival already. The company canceled a total of 14 future trips during what would normally be the industry’s high season in the United States. Yesterday, Carnival announced that the cost of these disruptions and repairs will drive down earnings per share by…”

“Moore-Zimmerman?”

Sonny got up and headed back, Joel following close behind. The nurse didn’t bother with the formalities. She understood that it was urgent. 

At some point during the dreadful walk to the office, Joel’s fingers intertwined with Sonny’s. 

The rest was a blur. Doctor Hubbard heard rectal bleeding and hardly explained anything before Sonny was being whisked away to have an ultrasound, and suddenly he was on the bed getting jelly spread all over his stomach, and Joel was staring at the screen looking like he was about to cry, and Sonny had never seen Joel like this.

“I’m afraid this is the worst case scenario,” said Doctor Hubbard. “There’s been a miscarriage.”

“I don’t understand,” Joel said, quietly, hand squeezing Sonny’s. Sonny could hear the tears in his voice. “We did everything right.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.” Hubbard placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Just know this isn’t your fault.”

Sonny was quiet for a long, suffocating moment, staring at his stomach, the way the bright fluorescent lights shone off the ultrasound jelly. Then, he spoke:

“What about me?”

Both men turned to face Sonny at the same time, like they’d hardly considered the question. Doctor Hubbard coughed and stood up straight, folding his hands politely. 

“We don’t know yet. This could simply be a case of bad luck. Almost one in five pregnancies end in miscarriage, even if the mother is healthy. However, given your condition…”

Doctor Hubbard made a hand-waving gesture Sonny couldn’t even begin to decipher.

“I’d like to run a blood test, to be sure. I’m only one man, and all the research I have in this area is my own. Your heat-causing hormones cease production once pregnancy begins, so if this is just bad luck, you should see a reduction in hormone toxicity symptoms as your body naturally expels what it doesn’t need, and once everything clears, you could even try again. However, this could also be a result of hormone toxicity making your body unlivable for the fetus. If this is the case… it may be too late. There could be irreversible damage to your body already.”

“You mean-” Sonny shifted so that Joel couldn’t see his face. “You mean the stupid fucking baby didn’t even save me?”

“Sonny, don’t say-”

“I don’t know,” Hubbard admitted. “I’ve never seen a pregnancy begin in such a late stage of hormone toxicity. At a certain point, the headaches and nausea become too much, and most people stop trying to become pregnant at all.”

Sonny turned to Joel just long enough to meet his gaze. It was completely unreadable. Just like always, a fucking wall of ice just staring back at him. Joel, in that moment, felt so much more like a stranger to Sonny than he had the first day they met.

And it would have been nice to see some damn regret. 

“Take all the blood you need,” Sonny huffed out. 

So, Sonny had an expiration date. 

Maybe just two weeks to live, was what Doctor Hubbard said.

The first thing Sonny did when he came home was call his mom. Then, he went to his old bedroom and curled up under the sheets, until Joel came in to comfort him. The moment his hand touched Sonny’s shoulder, though, Sonny slapped him away. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Baby, don’t be like that.” Joel pulled his hand back, but didn’t move away. “He admitted there’s not a lot of research. Maybe he’s wrong, maybe you’ll be okay. Maybe… maybe you’ll get better, and we can try again-”

“You think I’m upset about the fucking baby?!” Sonny snapped, sitting up to shove Joel off the bed completely. He fell to the ground with a heavy THUD.

“You’re so fucking selfish, Joel! I’m going to die, and you’re thinking about trying to have another baby on the fucking one percent chance I get better?! Maybe you’re the one who wanted the baby! Maybe all I fucking wanted was to live! Did you ever even think about that?!”

That’s when the facade slipped. When Joel’s face became the absolute picture of remorse, dejection. It felt good for Sonny to feel something other than sorry for himself. To feel like he had power over something again, like he could make Joel fucking crumble to pieces just like he'd done to him.

“Sonny, I…”

“No. Leave me the fuck alone.” Sonny swaddled himself back up in the sheets. “I don’t want to see you in here again unless you’re opening the door for Mom.”

Sonny didn’t feel like himself again until his mother’s arms were around him, tight and snug and warm, and suddenly he had never grown up at all, crying to her when his first real girlfriend broke things off, when the other kids at school picked on him and called him names, when he was overwhelmed and didn't understand the world around him. He wanted to scream and throw himself to the ground and curse God if there really was one at all, one so cruel as to let this happen.

But all he could do in this moment was weep. 

Joel stood in the doorway next to his father-in-law, onlooking. He stood back to give the mother and son their space. They hadn’t told Mr. and Mrs. Moore the grave news yet. Sonny wanted to tell them both himself and at the same time, and before he could do that he needed to stop crying.

So far, the only thing they knew is that the news wasn’t good, and that Joel had apologized profusely for his inability to get the stain out of their couch. 

Eventually, Sonny simmered down to sniffles and turned to look at Joel and his dad, then back at his mom.

“I-” Sonny began, then faltered, tears welling up all over again. “Joel, can you…”

“Sonny miscarried,” Joel broke coldly, to a shocked room. “And… he might not have much time left himself.”

Sonny’s mom squeezed her son tighter, an agonized sob suddenly escaping her body. It broke Joel’s heart to hear, but the only reaction he could muster was to look away.

“Why?” asked Mr. Moore.

“It’s his hormone sickness. The baby wasn’t able to survive it, and the doctor says it doesn’t look good for Sonny, either. Nobody’s come back from being this far gone, even if the pregnancy stopped it from progressing.”

Joel glanced back, guiltily, to see Mrs. Moore holding Sonny, hand in his hair, rocking him back and forth the same way she must have when he was small.

“The doctor gave him two weeks,” Joel finished.

“Oh, Sonny,” Mrs. Moore croaked, holding her son, his head nestled into the crook of her neck. It was morbidly picturesque. A painting of mother and son mourning together a loss which had not yet come to pass. 

Wordlessly, Mr. Moore joined, crawling onto the bed to hold his wife and child as they wept, leaving Joel alone at the door, feeling just as much an outsider as he had the day Sonny introduced them.

Joel thought maybe he should go. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if they’d be offended. 

And what eventually he did was crawl up onto the bed and wrap his arms around all three of them.