We've Got One Chance - Chapter 4
Title: We've Got One Chance
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Treckgabe
Summary: William has been feeling off lately. Morning sickness is never fun.
Warning: mpreg
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Author Note: This takes place in a world where mpreg isn't abnormal.
It was Gabe who brought it up next. Or maybe that phrasing didn’t quite work, because it wasn’t as if Gabe had gone out of his way to start a civil discussion about it, or try and ask questions. Gabe had his own way of doing things; a fact that usually both William and Travis appreciated --it made him unique, it made him Gabe-- but by the way William Beckett was screaming Gabe’s name, Travis figured the word unique had been replaced by a whole bunch of swears to describe the tan curly haired singer instead.
Ordinarily if Travis had walked into their cramped little apartment only to hear William cussing out Gabe, he would’ve turned around and given them both half an hour to calm down. Go get a drink or something. Even this time, Travis could claim innocence. He had no idea what was happening or why Gabe was sitting right outside the bathroom door fiddling with a key while William was obviously banging on it from the inside, but he had the faintest feeling that it had something to do with Gabe mysteriously going grocery shopping this morning --Gabe wasn’t allowed to be in charge of groceries after he returned home one trip with only liquor and primal strips and nothing edible for the others. Travis was going to question why Gabe had three bags filled with stray bottles of water considering none of them were that into the fancy mountain springs type stuff --Travis always said the water from the tap was just as good, and cheaper-- but he’d been on his way out the door for the day and by the look on Gabe’s face he’d judged that an explanation would take far too long. Maybe he should’ve asked.
“Gabe, why is William locked in the bathroom? Are we keeping him hostage now? I don’t think anyone but us would pay ransom, and I don’t have any cash on me.”
Gabe laughed, tilting his head back and yelling through the wooden door leading to the bathroom, “You hear that, Bilvy? Travie don’t have the money to pay for your release!”
There was a short pause before behind the locked door, William Beckett shrieked, banging against the door hard enough to have Gabe shifting away and rubbing his head.
“I think he just cursed you out in five different languages,” Travis noted in response to the string of barely comprehensible words that came out of William’s mouth after the shriek.
“Nah,” Gabe shook his head, “I’m the only one who can do that, and I know Billiam loves it.” That much was the truth, the way Gabe spoke Spanish made William melt, but William was in no mood to be sentimental.
“So, truth now,” Travis sighed, jokes out of the way, getting down to the business of fixing any pre-marital spat between them, “What’s Bilvy doing in there?”
“I dunno for sure, but he better be pissing onto one of those sticky things. I locked him in there this morning with thirty bottles of water and thirty of those take home preggers tests. You hear me Bill! I even gave you water! If you can’t piss, just keep drinking until you need to!”
While Travis’ mind took time to register that, the banging on the door stopped and William tried a different tactic. “Travie?” William waited a moment for a response, but when he got none he went on anyway, “Travie, Gabe has gone insane. You have to get me out of here. I’ve been in here all day.”
Gabe looked up at Travis from his spot on the floor. Sure, Gabe had started all this, put everything into motion, but it was Travis who could either break it or make it. Travis knew he could put an end to all the nonsense and get Gabe to hand over the key that locked the bathroom from the outside. He could set William free. But there was still the nagging feeling that had been bothering him for a while; what if William was pregnant? He hadn’t intended to be as pro active as Gabe was, but he knew it was bothering the both of them. It had to be bothering William too, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It was ideal to let William deal with it on his own time, whenever he was ready, but with William who really knew when that would be. Bill didn’t get to be queen of deflection and denial for nothing.
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you out Bill,” Travis answered, watching as Gabe’s face fell, swearing he could hear William’s inward sigh of relief, “…after you take the test.”
“I hate you both!” William yelled, hitting the door again though neither the door nor Gabe was budging, “This is illegal!”
“This may take a while,” Travis looked at Gabe. Although Travis had the patience of a kindergarten teacher dealing with a class of unruly children, Gabe had a very different outlook.
“We should go watch a movie,” Gabe answered, showing a measure of patience that Travis was proud of since obviously William was not being so cooperative, “And order some take out, I’m fucking starving.”
------------------------------
Surrounded by empty take out cartons, Travis felt stuffed to the brim. He was watching the movie credits roll down the screen idly, sprawled across the couch with Gabe, when he heard the toilet flush from the other room. William must have tired himself out from yelling over the first half of the movie, and had long since quieted down until Travis had almost forgot that William was still locked in the bathroom and not spending the night out with his friends instead.
“Let me out of the bathroom?” William’s voice was clear despite the desperate tone that hadn’t been there earlier when he had been demanding to be let out of his make shift prison cell. Travis had heard that tone before; he hated it because usually it only showed up when Bill was near tears.
Gabe was the first to scramble off the couch and head to the bathroom. It might have been Gabe’s fault that Bill was locked in there in the first place, but Gabe couldn’t be described as cruel. He loved William as much as Travis did, and he didn’t want him hurt or crying. Tears are Saporta kryptonite, especially Bill’s, they melt away Gabe’s stubborn attitude immediately and have him rushing to William’s side to hold him tight and shower him with kisses and compliments. Travis followed as Gabe fumbled with the key, twisting it in the lock and turning the knob to pull the door open. Before either of them could react, a distressed looking William Beckett burst out of the bathroom, brushing past Gabe and Travis and quickly making his way to the exit.
“Bill!” Gabe called out, managing to grasp William’s wrist briefly before he roughly yanked away and practically ran through the front door and out into the cold fall night.
Travis looked at Gabe, silently questioning whether they go after William or see if they got the answer to the question that’s been plaguing them for a while. There were two of them, they could split up, one of them could go after Bill. But they both wanted to know, had to know by this point. Gabe nodded, stepping into the bathroom first, not even sure if William had bothered taking one of the tests, but if he hadn’t then why had he responded so negatively? And what did the running even mean? It could go either way.
Mostly full bottles of water and cardboard boxes heralding 99% accuracy were scattered across the floor. Travis eyed an open box teetering on the edge of the sink and he picked it up, looking inside to see that it was empty.
“Oh shit,” Gabe muttered. The plastic lining of the garbage crinkled as Gabe reached in and pulled out a used pregnancy test, holding it up for Travis to see.
It was positive.
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Treckgabe
Summary: William has been feeling off lately. Morning sickness is never fun.
Warning: mpreg
Disclaimer: This is fictional.
Author Note: This takes place in a world where mpreg isn't abnormal.
It was Gabe who brought it up next. Or maybe that phrasing didn’t quite work, because it wasn’t as if Gabe had gone out of his way to start a civil discussion about it, or try and ask questions. Gabe had his own way of doing things; a fact that usually both William and Travis appreciated --it made him unique, it made him Gabe-- but by the way William Beckett was screaming Gabe’s name, Travis figured the word unique had been replaced by a whole bunch of swears to describe the tan curly haired singer instead.
Ordinarily if Travis had walked into their cramped little apartment only to hear William cussing out Gabe, he would’ve turned around and given them both half an hour to calm down. Go get a drink or something. Even this time, Travis could claim innocence. He had no idea what was happening or why Gabe was sitting right outside the bathroom door fiddling with a key while William was obviously banging on it from the inside, but he had the faintest feeling that it had something to do with Gabe mysteriously going grocery shopping this morning --Gabe wasn’t allowed to be in charge of groceries after he returned home one trip with only liquor and primal strips and nothing edible for the others. Travis was going to question why Gabe had three bags filled with stray bottles of water considering none of them were that into the fancy mountain springs type stuff --Travis always said the water from the tap was just as good, and cheaper-- but he’d been on his way out the door for the day and by the look on Gabe’s face he’d judged that an explanation would take far too long. Maybe he should’ve asked.
“Gabe, why is William locked in the bathroom? Are we keeping him hostage now? I don’t think anyone but us would pay ransom, and I don’t have any cash on me.”
Gabe laughed, tilting his head back and yelling through the wooden door leading to the bathroom, “You hear that, Bilvy? Travie don’t have the money to pay for your release!”
There was a short pause before behind the locked door, William Beckett shrieked, banging against the door hard enough to have Gabe shifting away and rubbing his head.
“I think he just cursed you out in five different languages,” Travis noted in response to the string of barely comprehensible words that came out of William’s mouth after the shriek.
“Nah,” Gabe shook his head, “I’m the only one who can do that, and I know Billiam loves it.” That much was the truth, the way Gabe spoke Spanish made William melt, but William was in no mood to be sentimental.
“So, truth now,” Travis sighed, jokes out of the way, getting down to the business of fixing any pre-marital spat between them, “What’s Bilvy doing in there?”
“I dunno for sure, but he better be pissing onto one of those sticky things. I locked him in there this morning with thirty bottles of water and thirty of those take home preggers tests. You hear me Bill! I even gave you water! If you can’t piss, just keep drinking until you need to!”
While Travis’ mind took time to register that, the banging on the door stopped and William tried a different tactic. “Travie?” William waited a moment for a response, but when he got none he went on anyway, “Travie, Gabe has gone insane. You have to get me out of here. I’ve been in here all day.”
Gabe looked up at Travis from his spot on the floor. Sure, Gabe had started all this, put everything into motion, but it was Travis who could either break it or make it. Travis knew he could put an end to all the nonsense and get Gabe to hand over the key that locked the bathroom from the outside. He could set William free. But there was still the nagging feeling that had been bothering him for a while; what if William was pregnant? He hadn’t intended to be as pro active as Gabe was, but he knew it was bothering the both of them. It had to be bothering William too, even if he didn’t want to admit it. It was ideal to let William deal with it on his own time, whenever he was ready, but with William who really knew when that would be. Bill didn’t get to be queen of deflection and denial for nothing.
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you out Bill,” Travis answered, watching as Gabe’s face fell, swearing he could hear William’s inward sigh of relief, “…after you take the test.”
“I hate you both!” William yelled, hitting the door again though neither the door nor Gabe was budging, “This is illegal!”
“This may take a while,” Travis looked at Gabe. Although Travis had the patience of a kindergarten teacher dealing with a class of unruly children, Gabe had a very different outlook.
“We should go watch a movie,” Gabe answered, showing a measure of patience that Travis was proud of since obviously William was not being so cooperative, “And order some take out, I’m fucking starving.”
------------------------------
Surrounded by empty take out cartons, Travis felt stuffed to the brim. He was watching the movie credits roll down the screen idly, sprawled across the couch with Gabe, when he heard the toilet flush from the other room. William must have tired himself out from yelling over the first half of the movie, and had long since quieted down until Travis had almost forgot that William was still locked in the bathroom and not spending the night out with his friends instead.
“Let me out of the bathroom?” William’s voice was clear despite the desperate tone that hadn’t been there earlier when he had been demanding to be let out of his make shift prison cell. Travis had heard that tone before; he hated it because usually it only showed up when Bill was near tears.
Gabe was the first to scramble off the couch and head to the bathroom. It might have been Gabe’s fault that Bill was locked in there in the first place, but Gabe couldn’t be described as cruel. He loved William as much as Travis did, and he didn’t want him hurt or crying. Tears are Saporta kryptonite, especially Bill’s, they melt away Gabe’s stubborn attitude immediately and have him rushing to William’s side to hold him tight and shower him with kisses and compliments. Travis followed as Gabe fumbled with the key, twisting it in the lock and turning the knob to pull the door open. Before either of them could react, a distressed looking William Beckett burst out of the bathroom, brushing past Gabe and Travis and quickly making his way to the exit.
“Bill!” Gabe called out, managing to grasp William’s wrist briefly before he roughly yanked away and practically ran through the front door and out into the cold fall night.
Travis looked at Gabe, silently questioning whether they go after William or see if they got the answer to the question that’s been plaguing them for a while. There were two of them, they could split up, one of them could go after Bill. But they both wanted to know, had to know by this point. Gabe nodded, stepping into the bathroom first, not even sure if William had bothered taking one of the tests, but if he hadn’t then why had he responded so negatively? And what did the running even mean? It could go either way.
Mostly full bottles of water and cardboard boxes heralding 99% accuracy were scattered across the floor. Travis eyed an open box teetering on the edge of the sink and he picked it up, looking inside to see that it was empty.
“Oh shit,” Gabe muttered. The plastic lining of the garbage crinkled as Gabe reached in and pulled out a used pregnancy test, holding it up for Travis to see.
It was positive.