Prompt Post No. 18
Welcome to Round 18 of the Inception Kink Meme.
Prompting System
Prompting System
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When they stumbled though the hospital doors, Arthur crippled with agony and held up by Eames who was half-mad with worry, they were swiftly taken into a small, private, windowless chamber with walls coated egg-shell white.
Arthur pressed the stained blanket into Eames’ hands and he let out a small moan as he was eased back onto the bed by a young nurse with blonde fishtail plaits. She soothingly chanted that it was okay, that he was going to be taken care of.
Eames was by his side, clinging onto his hand, his fingers slipping over the bloodied skin as he held on, ignoring the nurse’s request to leave as she wrapped a black Velcro sleeve around Arthur’s arm to monitor his blood pressure.
A more senior looking nurse appeared along with a tall, sinewy man with black curls, olive skin and dressed in maroon scrubs. The man introduced himself as a doctor and fired questions at Arthur about his symptoms and medical history as the senior nurse coaxed Eames away, telling him where he could get cleaned up.
Most of Arthur’s answers consisted of him shaking his head as he breathed noisily through his nose as the pain started to build up and rise. He was in the middle of assuring the doctor that, despite the faded needle marks on his arms, he didn’t take prescription or recreational drugs when the agony tore right through him, ricocheting off his nerve-endings.
In a flurry of movement and fast chatter, Arthur quickly found himself with an oxygen mask was pressed over his mouth and nose, a cannula inserted into the back of his right hand and five milligrams of morphine in his bloodstream. He was also hooked up to an I.V and a machine with cables and tubes spidering out of it that took note of his vitals; steady green spikes sailed across its screen and rhythmical bleeps blistered the air.
Arthur’s damp eyes trailed over the ceiling cracks that spread out like forks of lightning as the doctor lightly palpated his abdomen, asking him to take deep breaths every so often. His hand seemed to be pressed down just below his navel for the longest time and thoughts about tumours swelling inside him cantered through Arthur’s brain.
When the doctor was finished, he asked if he could examine him internally and Arthur nodded and was shifted on to his left side by the nurse, knees curled up to his chest. There was a pale watercolour seacape bolted to the wall in frame with curved edges and so he focused on that, numb from the morphine, tiredness soaking back into him.
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Arthur did, far too aware of how gently the doctor had spoken, how a bleak grimness had settled on his face.
Thick vines of fear rapidly began to take root and it was taking far too long for the doctor tell him what was wrong and the vines were going to grow out of control, suffocating him to the point where he couldn’t think or breathe.
“Your fundus, which is the top of your womb,” explained the doctor, his gaze and tone firm but laced with softness. “Is above your pubic bone and its height indicates that you are approximately twelve weeks pregnant.”
The final word rattled in Arthur’s ears as his eyes slightly widened in surprise.
Automatically, he denied it. Yes, he one of those males who could gestate but to be pregnant for three months and not know it was impossible. He would have noticed the obvious symptoms and changes to his body. And he and Eames were so careful. There had only ever been one slip up and that was when Eames had fucked him into euphoria to free him of the utter despair of Mal’ funeral and that had been fixed with Levonelle the following day. He couldn’t be pregnant.
But the doctor looked so sure and all the air was squeezed out of him as memories of him being tired, moody and sick slotted into him. He was suspended in shock at the realisation that he was carrying something marred of his and Eames' DNA and was unable to process anything else. So what the doctor said next simply floated over him, just skimming his skin.
“And what’s happening to you now is called a ‘spontaneous abortion’,” he said. “You’re having a miscarriage.”
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this... is so fucking good. I can't wait for more!! <3
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This is so good. More?
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This is so tragic, I don't even know what to say. Am camping out here in the hopes of more. Oh dear :(
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