[Log] Huston, We Have a Baby prt 1

[vlvular_d_fect]

If Temari had any plan of working at the studio for the rest of her life-which she really didn’t-it would have meant that she spent her one day off, the one time she was actually given time off, sneaking between districts. However, she’d wanted so bad to have definitive proof that she was merely stressed into sickness, that she was willing to do it. At the very least, the trip itself went smoothly. The physician’s office was another matter. She had previously decided that she didn’t want to hear the results right then and there, despite telling herself that she knew they’d be negative. Still, in the event they did say something unfavorable, she still wanted to be able to walk home. The nurse did not agree, not right away.

‘We would have to start you on prenatal care’, she had insisted.

‘I want my husband to be there with me when I find out, though,’ Temari had told her, inwardly shuddering that she had just theoretically referred to Sakon as her husband.

‘But we need to make sure-‘

‘I’ll come back if it’s positive, okay?’

At which point the nurse had given her a strange look, had a short, whispered discussion with one of the receptionists, and finally obliged Temari. Which was why she had been sitting on her couch now for the past twenty minutes, staring at the crinkled white envelope, at times utterly terrified of opening it, and at other times arguing with herself that she had no reason to be scared.

Eventually, however, logic won out over irrational fears. Pulling the flap of the envelope open, she yanked the paper out of it, unfolding it almost cautiously.

And in the ten seconds it took to read the results three times over-the nurse had been ever so kind to highlight and circle the relevant line-her biggest fear was confirmed.

When she tossed the paper, she didn’t even bother to crumple it into a ball, and instead it floated to the ground rather undramatically, while she proceeded to bury her face into a throw pillow. It shouldn’t have been possible, not by a long shot, but there was also no way the test could have lied. But more important than how it happened, was what she was going to do about it. The choices were limited but obvious. At the very least, she was rational enough to give herself some time to think it over. No sane decision would be reached when she was entirely unable to do a little soul searching.

Finally managing to lift her head-it felt heavier than a sack of rocks-a glance at the wall clock in the kitchen indicated that it was nearly ten o’ clock. She somehow managed to sit up, collecting the paper from the floor and stuffing it back into the envelope. When she was sure she had proper footing, she made little hesitations in heading for the door. Sitting around alright wasn’t going to do her much good-she needed to get out, and she knew exactly where to go.

--

Not surprisingly, with such a lofty, weighted issue hanging high over her head, the club felt a lot less entertaining, and it showed itself in the ‘what the hell are you doing here?’ look the bouncer gave her as he pulled the rope aside and allowed her to pass. As she’d gotten more comfortable in the setting, she’d taken to milling around when she went, even going so far as socializing with some of the club’s other frequent patrons. This time, as she had when she’d first been invited, she made a beeline for the bar, slumping into the first free stool she could find. A preliminary glance up and down the length of the bar indicated that who she’d come to see was not present, but it wouldn’t have been the first time he was otherwise occupied, and so she folded her arms in front of her and rested her head to wait, envelope still clutched tightly in one hand.

The day had been a long one, for both of the brothers, and Ukon dreaded Sakon coming home more than he dreaded an attack. He was well aware of the sudden financial situation Sakon's studio was in and as the day wore on with no news Ukon knew it was bad. The past few months had gone by easily, to those aside from Sakon who worked there, but behind the scenes the blond was failing miserably. He was stressed and panicking, he went in today to deal with some collectors and Ukon felt that his younger twin looked very disheveled and, to be completely honest, like shit. After receiving no word by lunch, Ukon had given up on hope and read. Finished a book actually, started a new one, and then had to head off to work. Sakon still hadn't returned, and there was still no information which left Ukon wondering what the hell was going down.

Now he stood in the back room with a glass of cool water in his hand that he no longer felt compelled to drink. Setting it down on the table he pushed through the door and found that he had a new customer, one of whom he recognized. She didn't look well either, and curiosity could practically kill several cats at once with this as he strode over to the female. She was slumped, obviously having a rough day, and Ukon found it almost uncharacteristic of Temari to slouch in such a manner.

"Hey," he greeted while reaching under the counter for a glass. "What can I get you?" His voice was loud enough to be heard over the music, but soft in that it carried a comforting and caring tone.

What Temari would have liked to say, was that she wanted a continual stream of the strongest drink he could make, but even one of the weakest was now out of the question, until she decided what she really wanted to do. She barely lifted her head to make an attempt at giving Ukon a smirk, but failed somewhere in the process of conjuring what it took to make a smile.

“Just a glass of water,” she managed, fighting back the urge to ask for something else that might help numb her to her current situation.

Looking down on Temari with semi-furrowed brows over his dark eyes, he took two steps to his left with the glass in hand. Shoving it under the fountain, he pulled a handle with his opposing hand to let the cooling liquid flow forth. He forgot ice, but figured she wouldn't care whether it was there or not.

"What's the matter?" Ukon asked as he set the glass upon a small, square, white napkin and then leaned on his palms. "I doubt you want to hear it, but you look like fuck."

“Not surprised…”

In exchange for the glass, Temari slid the envelope in Ukon’s direction. She had hardly gotten used to just thinking it, let alone saying it out loud, especially in public. Finally mustering the effort, she sat up and lifted the glass, taking small sips, not really interested in it in the first place. Her eyes stayed glued on him, though, waiting to see his reaction.

Ukon paused, hesitated, before taking up the envelope. He didn't like the looks of this, but rather hoped it was something about her living situation rather than what he thought it was. Opening it, after glancing around to make sure his boss wasn't looking, he read the paper. No, he didn't read the paper, he read what was highlighted, then read the paper, and again read the page before silently folding it back up. Sticking it into the sickeningly white envelope and closing the flap, he put it down on the counter top and stared back at Temari. He wasn't sure what to say or ask, what to do or not do; it wasn't as if this situation came around every day. Ukon wanted to ask the obvious, ask the hard questions and then just pretend nothing had been spoken or answered.

"Was it Sakon?" The pink haired bar tender finally managed to ask after mulling over his options and even pouring himself a new glass of water that he merely toyed with. It gave him something to do, as he wasn't being beckoned elsewhere and was able to focus on his friend.

Instead of a verbal answer, Temari set the glass down roughly, quickly accompanied by a fist slammed down on the counter. Her brow creased and she couldn’t help but scowl. Not in the most mentally stable condition, just the name was enough to be infuriating.

“It’s not even fucking possible,” she growled, still loud enough to be heard. “I was damned fucking good about buying those stupid little pills and taking them every damned day, so how the hell did this happen, huh?”

By that point, while her questions were directed towards Ukon, she wasn’t actually asking him. She knew well enough that he couldn’t know the answer. But it was still something she needed to know.

He let her have her tiny tantrum, watching her fist thunder to the counter and took in her anger. It was nothing compared to the things his brother pulled, this was quite mild actually, but his concern grew as he listened to Temari.

"Well, not that I'm any doctor, but they're not one hundred percent affecti- where did you get them?" Ukon asked, changing gears mid-sentence and leaning forward on his hands. "They don't sell them here, who did you get them from?"

“That little store, two storefronts down from the studio,” she answered, having filtered out her sudden burst of anger into the counter, recalling the shabby little store front and her first dealings with something of a black market. “One of the studio girls recommended it to me.”

She’d never considered that it had nothing to do with what she did, but rather what that particular shopkeeper had done. But now she had a sinking sensation that she’d been very, very ripped off, with the way Ukon shot her that question.

"Did your pills come in a package or bottle?" He wanted to know, leaning over on his right hand and trying not to make a big deal about this. Oh, but someone was going to pay dearly for this, and it was not Temari nor himself. Ukon just worried, to put it out there, as he felt that Temari was perhaps his lone friend who wasn't some weirdo from another district. He also liked the woman before him, it was rare for him (or Sakon) to like anyone so he took this personally.

“Two bottles.” Temari came off a lot more weary of the line of questions than she’d actually meant to. Ukon had every right to ask her questions when she’d presented the situation to him, as well as the fact that he seemed genuinely concerned. She was thankful for it, but the day had been long and she was simply spitting out the answers as the questions came, regardless of whether they were sufficient answers, logical answers, or even if she answered the question at all. Regulating what she sounded like was a whole different concept that was far beyond her. “One for the three weeks, and one of the sugar pills like you normally would. But I never, ever mixed them up…”

Ukon gave a defeated sigh as he looked into Temari's eyes and shook his head. "The man who sold them to you probably doesn't even know what bitch control fucking is," he explained and took a swig from his water. "But, unfortunately, it can't be helped." He shook his head and stood up, hands fitting into his pockets as they needed something to do suddenly. "I assume you haven't told him, since he's probably still at the studio for one thing..."

“No, I can’t tell him…”

It didn’t make much sense to really say that. Sakon would be liable to find out eventually, if he kept seeing her over the next few months, not to mention that word seemed to travel quickly around certain circles in Cena. But she absolutely dreaded the idea of having to tell him, and she wasn’t going to pass the duty on to some other poor soul.

“What the hell am I going to do?” It was a rhetorical question, and she was on the verge of tears, but she refused to let them fall.

Reaching out, Ukon ran his hand over her hair and let it rest on her shoulder. "Wait here," he said with a gentle nod before disappearing into the back. As the door swung closed behind it one could see Ukon reaching for the device at his hip which connected to the headpiece on his ear, speaking into it as a red light flashed on. By the time he emerged again, he had a jacket in his arms and was ready to go. "You don't want to be here," he told Temari and decided he would make some decisions for her. Sometimes, it was just easier to let others handle some things, and this Ukon felt, was one of them. "I'll walk you home." However, Ukon failed to mention which home in which they would be walking.

Temari nodded slowly and slid off her seat. She’d come here to get away from home, to be immersed in people, but the walk and the day’s trip had positively exhausted her. Maybe rest was what she needed, and was far as she was concerned, was what he had in mind. Wordlessly, she followed along, paying only enough to follow where he was going, otherwise immersed in her own thoughts regarding how the heck she was going to handle this situation, mentally examining her own morals, something she always hated having to do. It was, unfortunately, absolutely necessary, and sufficient enough to make her lose track of directions.

Taking Temari with his palm to her back, Ukon found them standing at the steps to his apartment. Leading her up and into the unlocked home, Ukon sighed and closed the door was there was a smash of glass on the other side instantly. Shouts, from a certain blond photographer, ripped through the air and the elder brother could only sigh. "Temari, don't kill me." It was all Ukon could say in his defense as he tried to lighten the mood, and the crashing stopped as suddenly as they had started when Sakon realized his brother wasn't alone.

"What the fucking fucking fuck is she doing here?" He asked, pointing as he flew across the kitchen to the door. His large hand reaching out, it slammed the door shut behind the two in a furious rage before grabbing Ukon and shaking him by the collar. "Answer me!" Ukon denied his brother answer, and Sakon let go, storming across the kitchen and into the living room where there was a thud and he had apparently sat down on the couch. Meanwhile, Ukon fixed his shirt and ran his fingers over his nearly strangled neck.

First the crashing, and then Ukon’s voice finally was enough to snap Temari out of her daze. She’d thought the number of steps had seemed wrong, and could have sworn she’d recollected the front door key from him, and a quick look around her indicated that this was definitely not her apartment. She barely had time to give him a disappointed look, wondering why, now, of all times, he’d brought her here, putting two and two together to figure out exactly who was making all the commotion as Sakon came storming into the room.

She was entirely speechless at the display, despite wanting to defend her friend, and she’d have liked to follow Sakon at least, but her knees were trembling hard enough to keep her rooted to the spot for the time being. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d shook that much, either from nervousness or fear. But once they were relatively alone again, she could only shoot Ukon a begging glance, as if to ask him why here, why now, because she sure as hell wasn’t ready to share this with Sakon. She had a gut feeling that he wasn’t exactly going to be thrilled, especially not with the mood he was in.

Ukon returned her gaze, but it was calm. "You're not going to tell him at work," he reasoned. "And I doubt you'd ever come here one your own." He wouldn't have come here if given the choice, but it was where he lived and had been living for years. "I can take you to your place now, and you say nothing and leave him hunting you down tomorrow, or tell him now and get it over with." He was being semi-careful with his words and set his hands on her shoulders gently. "Give him the envelope, and come back to the door. He won't even read it until after you've left."

“No,” Temari replied, voice barely above a whisper as she shook her head, “I…should tell him myself.”

Taking a few deep breaths and staying her quaking knees. Without further discussion, she finally followed in the direction in which Sakon had stomped off, careful to go slowly and make no jerky movements-not that she really could have if she wanted to-lest doing so somehow irritated him more. Her stomach was churning, threatening to betray her, and her heart pounded in her ears, but still she tracked him down and took a seat next to him, careful to keep at least a few inches of separation between them. But before she started her explanation, she waited to see what he would say.

Sakon looked up when he heard her set foot past the kitchen, the sound of her shoes on the tile and moving onto the wood betraying her position. A hard stone cold look in his eyes and a glower upon his face, he watched Temari approach and sit. They both were silent, and Sakon finally spoke first. "What?" He snapped, more angry with how things were going with the studio to be angry with her for sitting. "It better be important," he found the need to say, however, as if he'd been doing something else. He hadn't, all the man had been doing was staring at the wall in contemplation.

Ukon lurked between the kitchen and living space, watching silently and ready to move in if his brother decided to be violent.

“I should hope it’s important,” she murmured in earnest, although she expected his reaction to be either not giving a damn, pissed off, or somewhere in between.

In the short amount of time that she’d known, she’d thought of all sorts of ways to say it, how to get as many questions as she could into one simple sentence, and how to best endear him, although the last idea seemed nigh on impossible, but it was at least worth a try.

“I don’t know how to say this,” she finally said, again taking the honest, blunt route, drawing in a deep breath, then taking the plunge. “But…well…looks like some complete strangers were right. You’re going to be a father.”

He stared at her, blinking slowly as he leaned to his right and lay his head against his palm with elbow on the armrest. Then he chuckled, Sakon laughed at Temari and more over; the idea. "There's got to be a mistake, or you're just fucking with me." He replied, smirking and finding the idea all too hilarious to be true. Him, a father, ha. But then Sakon looked over her face and realized just how out of it she looked, he recalled how horrible she seemed just standing in the door, and the fact that Ukon had brought her here (early no less as his shift didn't end for three hours) made him think again.

"You..." Sakon stood up quickly and stepped behind the couch as if having to separate himself from Temari. "You're friggen shittin me right?" He looked at Ukon who twitched his head in a 'no' reply.

Temari stayed seated as she was, hands folding in her lap, fingers idly rubbing at her knuckles, to which her eyes stayed glued. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye now.

“You really think I’d joke about this?” She was more disappointed than annoyed. Disappointed for more reasons than she could even begin to count. She had pictured this moment as the day when she’d come home to her loving, caring husband-or at least significant other-to tell him that they would be parents, and he would be just as elated as she was. But she was miserable, he seemed to be in a state of shock, and there would be no baby showers and time soon.

He didn't think so, and sighed, then sighed for a second time before having the deep urge to swear loudly for a very long amount of time. Ukon was rather surprised by his twins restraint as he watched the blond pace around and mutter things to himself, he'd never seen Sakon acting this way and found it peculiar. "Sakon...?" He asked slowly, taking a step forward as the others hand shot straight out and held up his hand to stop him.

"Don't fucking come near me, don't touch me with your shitty hands, don't even open your trap." He said slowly and precisely as his left hand covered his eyes with fingers to his temples. Eventually the right dropped to his side as he continued before ceasing movement and turning to Temari. "We kill it." He said coldly, staring at her. "This can't be fucking happening. You are not having my kid, no God damn way."

The suggestion struck a nerve, and gone was the dejected look, as she took up something a little fiercer, equally just as cold.

“It’s my kid too, and I’m not killing it.”

She’d said it. Finally. She had been toying with the idea, despite her efforts not to even think on the subject, but she had come to a startling conclusion: every time she had thought of getting rid of ‘it’, she cringed inwardly. She couldn’t stand the idea, as well she shouldn’t, with all the times she had said she wanted a normal family. She wasn’t going to be too particular on what her definition of normal was-plain murderer was a step up from rabid murderer, and even if the child ended up practically fatherless, single motherhood was better than nothing.

She realized, of course, that there was a high chance that the baby would get taken away at birth, as usual, but that was a bridge that she had nine months to figure out how to cross.

"Are you listening to your-fucking-self?" Asked Sakon, not angrily but loudly, as his hands grabbed the back of the couch and he leaned against it. "Do you hear the shit you just spewed? You don't want it, princess, that... that Thing might as well be fucking Satan." He leaned forward toward Temari before pushing away in aggravation. "Fuck... you gotta get rid of it! You don't want my kid, remove of it and find some other bastard to screw. I don't want to be apart of this, it's not mine." Sakon looked livid as he let his eyes fall anywhere that wasn't Temari, her stomach, or on his brother who had slunk into the room.

"You, get the hell out of here. This isn't your business." His hand pointed at Ukon, who felt his brother was both correct and wrong, and then looked down at Temari.

"I'll be in my room," he told her with a nod before leaving.

Still unmoving from the couch, Temari folded her arms over her chest in defiance, leaning back and closing her eyes as she took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. It wasn’t working.

“I knew this was a mistake,” she murmured to herself, then spoke up, “I don’t care what you think, okay? I just thought you might like to know you had spawn running around, but you’re not going to convince me otherwise.”

Sakon was being a little melodramatic, even giving the situation, as far as she was concerned. She found at least a little solace in the fact that, at the very least, her words weren’t based solely on trying to spite him, although that was a small part of it.

Slouching into another seat, Sakon leaned his head back against the wall as his arms crossed over his chest. He looked unhappy and unamused, as if he'd just been working outside for hours in the rain and was now purely wet. Sitting there, his eyes never left the woman on the couch while his tongue ran over his teeth in annoyance.

"Fine," he spat while coming to grips with something. "Keep the fucker, I hope he's just like me." He hissed through his teeth, the words slow and drawn out for affect.

“I plan to,” she sneered right back in return, looking equally unhappy. Where to go from there, unfortunately, was less obvious. She wasn’t yet thinking ahead at all to what the child would be like, just to the immediate present and very-soon future. What the hell she would do with herself when she couldn’t work at the studio anymore, how she was going to do this alone when so many women had trouble doing it with the help of their entire family, and more over, if there was any way to warm him up to the idea.

Time trudged on and Sakon didn't move, eyes closed as he just thought. He didn't really know whether or not he wanted this, though he was roughly 98% positive he didn't... but he hated the part of him that he had always pushed away. The deep Sakon hidden by sarcasm and profanity, the Sakon that wanted more with his life than just his everyday shit. It wanted to do something, be someone, anyone really, and Sakon hated himself for it. The idea was too trivial in his opinion, but yet here it was, badgering him and telling him things that he didn't want to hear. Now's you're chance, Sakon. Don't push it away, Sakon. Be reasonable, Sakon. Think this through, Sakon, you want this more than you're willing to accept...

There was a thud as he banged his head back against the wall once softly, and then a second time, before standing up and heading toward the kitchen. "Drink?" He asked over his shoulder, though he didn't expect an answer from Temari.

“No, thank you…”

Politeness seemed so out of place, as Temari finally stood, albeit a bit shakily, and followed Sakon with a bit of hesitation. She felt like there was more she should say. Like something she could say would make things all better. But obviously, the only magical words she could conjure was if she actually wanted the same thing he did. Unfortunately, she felt guilty for even thinking it, so that was out of the question.

“I’m…sorry.” It seemed like the only appropriate thing to say, but it wasn’t as if she’d planned on this, or done it on purpose, or if she’d neglected to try and prevent it. The only thing she had to really be sorry for was her own conflicting morals.

Sakon said nothing as he pulled a bottle from the fridge and cracked it open and took a small sip. "Why?" He asked curiously as he hauled himself up onto the counter and sat there with the beer set down on his left. "It's not your God damn fault," he reasoned and shrugged. If anything it was his, because he was the dumbass that got caught up in his own feeling and didn't grab a condom. Not that he had one with him, but surely she'd have had one.

"Sorry for getting myself dumped here in the first place, I guess," she stated simply. "Now I've gone and made things difficult for the both of us, haven't I?"

She was, of course, being too hard on herself, taking it as a failure, telling herself repeatedly that she should be able to do something other than sit back and let life take its course. It was only to be expected, having only just gotten the news, in conjunction with what could only be raging hormones. But then there the startling reality that she really could have done something, and that something had been only a few inches away, in her side table draw, in a convenient little two by two tinfoil package. Every time the thought occurred to her, she swore mentally, remembering that this had been the precise reason she didn't want to get caught up in dealing with love and lust. It was perfect irony that her first time would yield such results. Some higher power was obviously out to get her.

There was that voice again, inside, telling him to say something and reassure Temari that it was going to be okay and that she belonged here. Not belonged as in deserved to be in this hell hole, but here with him and his brother. However, he could make himself say anything sweet or kind; it was easier to just shrug solemnly in response. Sakon then took a swig from the beer beside him before setting it down with a soft tap of glass on the Plexiglas counter.

"Life is fucking difficult, princess. I'd have thought you'd understood that by now," he spoke with a hardness in his tone, but something was hidden, something softer that attempted at making his words not so cold. "But, whatever. We'll deal, always friggen have since we're alive."

“Just dealing for the rest of your life is no way to live,” Temari chided, then gave a deep sigh.

She had pulled her arms tight around her, feeling a distinct chill, although whether it was actually cold or just her imagination was another matter. Since she was being honest as it was, she supposed there was no point in holding back anymore. Better to incite his rage in one fell swoop than space it out over time.

“I’m leaving Cena…soon, I don’t know when. You can stay here or come with me, it doesn’t matter to me. I won’t be much use at the studio much longer anyway.” Her tone settled somewhere between depressed and informative, unsure herself whether she really did want him to tag along. “You seem pretty hellbent on abandoning this kid, though, so I doubt you will…”