We've Got One Chance - Chapter 5
Title: We've Got One Chance
Chapter: 5/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gabe/Travis/William
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.
"Don't say that," Travis answered an automatic response that came from being around William Beckett for too long. It wasn't as if Travis never swore, that would be a bad lie considering all the proof there was that pointed otherwise, and Travis was a better liar than that. But when William was missing, a part of what made them work was missing too, and subconsciously they both tried to fill that gap. It usually worked, for a while that was, until they missed the third party enough to track his ass down and bring him back. No one could lecture quite like William.
Gabe handed the stick over, and Travis took a closer look. Staring wasn't making the two tiny pink lines go away, but not for lack of trying. Travis wasn't even sure he was thinking properly, no solitary thought seemed to escape his mind. How was he supposed to feel? Too many cogs in his head were trying to work at once, and Travis was at a loss.
"Shit."
"Yeah," Gabe answered, being much kinder to Travis' repeated succinct response than Travis had been only a minute prior. Gabe knew he could never fulfill the morals of William, and so he tried a lot less than Travis did. Either way, the word summed up everything. Travis couldn't put into words how he felt, much less begin to think about how Gabe was taking it. Had Travis ever pictured himself having a family? Maybe. One day far in the future. It was a blurry picture, but now he'd have to work on clearing up the mental image. Three guys raising a baby. A baby. They could barely trust Gabe to take care of himself and go a night without a drink. Was he over thinking everything? Under thinking? Was there such a thing as under thinking? He made a mental note to check the dictionary on that one later when he had the time. He'd probably forget the mental note before he ever got the chance, but it felt proactive. He needed to be proactive.
Travis stood up slowly, feeling both heavy and light headed. It wasn't a good thing, not at all; Travis was usually the one in charge, the one who knew what he was doing, and had the answers to everything even if the others didn't like what he had to say. As he tossed the stick back into the trash and walked out of the bathroom, it no longer felt that way. It was some sort of out of body experience that he wasn't used to, not when completely sober.
"Travie," Gabe said, getting up and following after him at a quicker pace, more alert. "Travie," he repeated, forcing his point across and demanding Travis' attention in a manner to which anyone who was familiar with Gabe Saporta was accustomed to, "where do you think Bilvy went to?"
Only one sentence, yet it subjected Travis to a flood of guilt. In the drama of the big reveal, he'd forgotten that William had run off. He wouldn't consider himself the worrying type, not usually, but he was always concerned when someone was acting unlike themselves, and it was unlike William to take off like that. Sure William had fits at times, who didn't, but they typically ended up with William locking himself alone in the bedroom. Neither Gabe nor Travis were fond of those times --they only had one couch, and that wasn't even big enough to properly hold one of them, such was the curse of being gifted with height-- but it was immeasurably preferable to William out there alone at night. It wasn't that they didn't trust the younger man. After all he was just that, a man; but his sense of direction wasn't the keenest, and he didn't exactly appear intimidating. To an indiscriminating criminal, he would be an easy target.
"'Cuz, you know," Gabe continued when Travis didn't respond right away, "it's probably dangerous out there for preggers guys." That was the truth. There was an additional and much more alarming element to it now.
"Siska's," Travis answered, nodding with certainty after going over all the possibilities in his head. Maybe he couldn't know, despite popular opinion he sadly could not read William's mind, especially not from some unknown distance, but Siska was a solid choice. It was also one of the more optimistic ones. By the look on Gabe's face, he knew that Gabe was thinking something far more dramatic. That's how Gabe lived his life, and sometimes that was a great thing, but Travis wasn't going to give in to Gabe's worst case scenarios. He didn't need that in his head.
Reaching into Travis' pocket, Gabe stole Travis' phone before he had a decent chance to react. Travis' mouth had barely opened to voice his discontent when Gabe held the phone up to his ear, having already dialed Siska's number. Gabe amazed Travis like that sometimes. Even when he was so piss drunk he could barely remember his own name, he was always able to recall Bill and his phone numbers. They were so engrained into his rote memory that he didn't even have to think about it. It had lead to a great many texts and calls to pick Gabe up from wherever Pete had dropped him off last, but still, Travis found it impressive. Just like how Gabe knew how to reach almost every person on the label. If Gabe weren't already a successful singer, Travis would've suggested he go into the marketing field. It would suit him.
"Uh huh," Gabe murmured, nodding, "Yeah, okay. I hear you." Gabe paced back and forth across the kitchen linoleum as he talked and listened, the phone pressed unusually close to his skull, as if the proximity to his head and the phone would somehow make all the difference in the world.
"And?" Travis asked after Gabe had hung up and set the phone down on the table. Sometimes Travis was able to read Gabe's expressions, but the look on Gabe's face was tense and stressed, the same look he'd held before the phone call. William would've chided Gabe for the expression, telling him that he'd get wrinkles. It wasn't that William cared about vanity, that wasn't it at all, but he much preferred the thought of laughter lines. Those were wrinkles William could live with, something happy and sentimental. Sometimes he pointed them out on the elderly; he'd even gone so far to say he could always tell who had lived the most from the lines on their face. Gabe always smiled. William loved that.
"Yeah," Gabe said, turning and looking Travis in the eyes, his expression as clouded as Travis was sure his own was, "He's there."
From there it was only a question of what should they do, and the decision was made silently as they both grabbed their coats and Travis took the keys to the car on the way out the door. The thick silence between them wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. Travis wanted badly to break it, he was sure Gabe must be aching with unsaid words by that point, but there was nothing he could think of to verbalize that would make anything better. He felt terrible for that fact, he was supposed to be the one that made things better, it had become his unofficial job. Luckily, he couldn't be fired. At least he hoped not.
The fifteen minutes it took to get to Siska's --it takes fifteen minutes to get everywhere in Chicago, it's some sort of golden rule or something-- was longer than it had ever been in the past. Gabe had gotten into the passenger seat and stared out the window, not moving once the entire time, not until they were parked on the street next to the bassist's apartment. Taking the keys out of the ignition, Travis looked over at the other singer. He wanted to reach over and squeeze Gabe's leg, something he definitely would've done if it had been Bill sitting there instead, but he refrained and got out of the car instead. When Gabe wanted to touch and be touched, he'd let everyone know.
Travis had already made his way to the front door and pushed the doorbell by the time Gabe ambled up behind him. The curly haired Adam Siska swung open the door milliseconds later, like he'd been waiting for their arrival by standing right next to the doorway. Adam's eyes widened as he leaned forward, looking exasperated already, making Travis wonder what was going on. There hadn't been a huge gap in between William disappearing and them coming after him. That's how it always would be. William couldn't get away from them, it was common knowledge.
"I don't know what you two morons did," Adam said, his tone only mildly tinged with reproach, "but he's really freaked this time. And so you two better fix it. No one wins when you all fight." Wasn't that the truth. Three bands were affected each and every time, it made for a rotten experience. No one wanted an emo lead singer. For the other members of The Academy Is… it was already too late for that most of the time, but they did their best to keep William's head above water so to speak.
"We'll fix it," Travis assured Siska in order to gain entrance into the apartment, pushing past the younger male. Out of the corner of his eyes, Travis spotted Mike Carden sprawled across a couch. Mike looked at them all for a minute, not surprised by their arrival, and not particularly impressed either. Then again, it was hard to tell from his facial expressions. Travis knew he wasn't a bad guy, both William and Siska had vouched for him numerous times in the past, but there was something about the way Carden stared people down that was almost evil.
"Beckett is in the bedroom," Mike said simply, waving a hand in the direction of the bedroom and then turning his gaze back to the infinitely more interesting television show he'd been watching before they came. Siska closed the door behind Travis and Gabe, and then joined Carden on the couch. Travis wondered if there was something more between the two of them, but he kept the thoughts to himself. He had other more pressing matters at hand.
Manners were a thing of virtue. Travis tried to always keep that in mind, do his mother proud, and so he knocked softly on the bedroom door instead of barging right in as it was clear Gabe wanted to do. They waited a moment, their knock gone unanswered, before Travis twisted the knob and pushed the door open.
William was sitting at the foot of the bed, his eyes on the ground. He knew who was at the door, that's why he hadn't bothered calling out in answer. The situation he was in was inevitable, but he still held on to flimsy fast falling hopes that he could avoid it. Deflection came easily to him, it was how he had always been; it took others to pull him out of the place in his mind he tended to retreat to when things went bad. Gabe had always been good at that, it's why William had fallen for him so hard. Gabe had come into his life --no, that term wasn't appropriate, it was more along the lines of crashed-- so abruptly, he'd taken William by surprise. He still often did, managing to flip everyone upside down without even trying. And then there was Travis, sweet unassuming Travis. Hiding away he might never have gotten to know Travis, and that would've been a tragedy. Gabe drew the depths of William out, exposed him, and Travis was the one who made it okay for him to stay like that. It worked. He loved them. But he didn't want to see them.
Travis picked up on that right away, noticing the way that William's shoulders were rounded forward. The boy was trying to disappear into himself. He took one small step forward, enough to allow the door to click shut, but not enough to cause William to withdraw further. Gabe took it all the way, quickly moving to William's side, pulling William into his arms.
"Bilvy," Gabe breathed, and William tried not to flinch either the silly nickname or the sudden rush of touch and skin, "I'm gonna be a daddy."
The tense rigid line of William's spine broke at that, crumpling forward as William ducked his head further, curling up awkwardly in Gabe's arms. Travis had been trying to wait, trying to hold back until William was ready for him, but he couldn't any longer at that point. He took the few more steps that kept them apart, and kneeled in front of William. The younger man's eyes were wet, his face scrunched up in the effort to keep any tears from falling. Gabe's eyes sought out Travis' as well, questioning, confused. There was a certain sense of innocence in both.
"Hey, Bill," Travis lightly rested a hand on William's thigh, his voice quiet but sure, "No matter what, we're all in this together."
Chapter: 5/?
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gabe/Travis/William
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.
"Don't say that," Travis answered an automatic response that came from being around William Beckett for too long. It wasn't as if Travis never swore, that would be a bad lie considering all the proof there was that pointed otherwise, and Travis was a better liar than that. But when William was missing, a part of what made them work was missing too, and subconsciously they both tried to fill that gap. It usually worked, for a while that was, until they missed the third party enough to track his ass down and bring him back. No one could lecture quite like William.
Gabe handed the stick over, and Travis took a closer look. Staring wasn't making the two tiny pink lines go away, but not for lack of trying. Travis wasn't even sure he was thinking properly, no solitary thought seemed to escape his mind. How was he supposed to feel? Too many cogs in his head were trying to work at once, and Travis was at a loss.
"Shit."
"Yeah," Gabe answered, being much kinder to Travis' repeated succinct response than Travis had been only a minute prior. Gabe knew he could never fulfill the morals of William, and so he tried a lot less than Travis did. Either way, the word summed up everything. Travis couldn't put into words how he felt, much less begin to think about how Gabe was taking it. Had Travis ever pictured himself having a family? Maybe. One day far in the future. It was a blurry picture, but now he'd have to work on clearing up the mental image. Three guys raising a baby. A baby. They could barely trust Gabe to take care of himself and go a night without a drink. Was he over thinking everything? Under thinking? Was there such a thing as under thinking? He made a mental note to check the dictionary on that one later when he had the time. He'd probably forget the mental note before he ever got the chance, but it felt proactive. He needed to be proactive.
Travis stood up slowly, feeling both heavy and light headed. It wasn't a good thing, not at all; Travis was usually the one in charge, the one who knew what he was doing, and had the answers to everything even if the others didn't like what he had to say. As he tossed the stick back into the trash and walked out of the bathroom, it no longer felt that way. It was some sort of out of body experience that he wasn't used to, not when completely sober.
"Travie," Gabe said, getting up and following after him at a quicker pace, more alert. "Travie," he repeated, forcing his point across and demanding Travis' attention in a manner to which anyone who was familiar with Gabe Saporta was accustomed to, "where do you think Bilvy went to?"
Only one sentence, yet it subjected Travis to a flood of guilt. In the drama of the big reveal, he'd forgotten that William had run off. He wouldn't consider himself the worrying type, not usually, but he was always concerned when someone was acting unlike themselves, and it was unlike William to take off like that. Sure William had fits at times, who didn't, but they typically ended up with William locking himself alone in the bedroom. Neither Gabe nor Travis were fond of those times --they only had one couch, and that wasn't even big enough to properly hold one of them, such was the curse of being gifted with height-- but it was immeasurably preferable to William out there alone at night. It wasn't that they didn't trust the younger man. After all he was just that, a man; but his sense of direction wasn't the keenest, and he didn't exactly appear intimidating. To an indiscriminating criminal, he would be an easy target.
"'Cuz, you know," Gabe continued when Travis didn't respond right away, "it's probably dangerous out there for preggers guys." That was the truth. There was an additional and much more alarming element to it now.
"Siska's," Travis answered, nodding with certainty after going over all the possibilities in his head. Maybe he couldn't know, despite popular opinion he sadly could not read William's mind, especially not from some unknown distance, but Siska was a solid choice. It was also one of the more optimistic ones. By the look on Gabe's face, he knew that Gabe was thinking something far more dramatic. That's how Gabe lived his life, and sometimes that was a great thing, but Travis wasn't going to give in to Gabe's worst case scenarios. He didn't need that in his head.
Reaching into Travis' pocket, Gabe stole Travis' phone before he had a decent chance to react. Travis' mouth had barely opened to voice his discontent when Gabe held the phone up to his ear, having already dialed Siska's number. Gabe amazed Travis like that sometimes. Even when he was so piss drunk he could barely remember his own name, he was always able to recall Bill and his phone numbers. They were so engrained into his rote memory that he didn't even have to think about it. It had lead to a great many texts and calls to pick Gabe up from wherever Pete had dropped him off last, but still, Travis found it impressive. Just like how Gabe knew how to reach almost every person on the label. If Gabe weren't already a successful singer, Travis would've suggested he go into the marketing field. It would suit him.
"Uh huh," Gabe murmured, nodding, "Yeah, okay. I hear you." Gabe paced back and forth across the kitchen linoleum as he talked and listened, the phone pressed unusually close to his skull, as if the proximity to his head and the phone would somehow make all the difference in the world.
"And?" Travis asked after Gabe had hung up and set the phone down on the table. Sometimes Travis was able to read Gabe's expressions, but the look on Gabe's face was tense and stressed, the same look he'd held before the phone call. William would've chided Gabe for the expression, telling him that he'd get wrinkles. It wasn't that William cared about vanity, that wasn't it at all, but he much preferred the thought of laughter lines. Those were wrinkles William could live with, something happy and sentimental. Sometimes he pointed them out on the elderly; he'd even gone so far to say he could always tell who had lived the most from the lines on their face. Gabe always smiled. William loved that.
"Yeah," Gabe said, turning and looking Travis in the eyes, his expression as clouded as Travis was sure his own was, "He's there."
From there it was only a question of what should they do, and the decision was made silently as they both grabbed their coats and Travis took the keys to the car on the way out the door. The thick silence between them wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. Travis wanted badly to break it, he was sure Gabe must be aching with unsaid words by that point, but there was nothing he could think of to verbalize that would make anything better. He felt terrible for that fact, he was supposed to be the one that made things better, it had become his unofficial job. Luckily, he couldn't be fired. At least he hoped not.
The fifteen minutes it took to get to Siska's --it takes fifteen minutes to get everywhere in Chicago, it's some sort of golden rule or something-- was longer than it had ever been in the past. Gabe had gotten into the passenger seat and stared out the window, not moving once the entire time, not until they were parked on the street next to the bassist's apartment. Taking the keys out of the ignition, Travis looked over at the other singer. He wanted to reach over and squeeze Gabe's leg, something he definitely would've done if it had been Bill sitting there instead, but he refrained and got out of the car instead. When Gabe wanted to touch and be touched, he'd let everyone know.
Travis had already made his way to the front door and pushed the doorbell by the time Gabe ambled up behind him. The curly haired Adam Siska swung open the door milliseconds later, like he'd been waiting for their arrival by standing right next to the doorway. Adam's eyes widened as he leaned forward, looking exasperated already, making Travis wonder what was going on. There hadn't been a huge gap in between William disappearing and them coming after him. That's how it always would be. William couldn't get away from them, it was common knowledge.
"I don't know what you two morons did," Adam said, his tone only mildly tinged with reproach, "but he's really freaked this time. And so you two better fix it. No one wins when you all fight." Wasn't that the truth. Three bands were affected each and every time, it made for a rotten experience. No one wanted an emo lead singer. For the other members of The Academy Is… it was already too late for that most of the time, but they did their best to keep William's head above water so to speak.
"We'll fix it," Travis assured Siska in order to gain entrance into the apartment, pushing past the younger male. Out of the corner of his eyes, Travis spotted Mike Carden sprawled across a couch. Mike looked at them all for a minute, not surprised by their arrival, and not particularly impressed either. Then again, it was hard to tell from his facial expressions. Travis knew he wasn't a bad guy, both William and Siska had vouched for him numerous times in the past, but there was something about the way Carden stared people down that was almost evil.
"Beckett is in the bedroom," Mike said simply, waving a hand in the direction of the bedroom and then turning his gaze back to the infinitely more interesting television show he'd been watching before they came. Siska closed the door behind Travis and Gabe, and then joined Carden on the couch. Travis wondered if there was something more between the two of them, but he kept the thoughts to himself. He had other more pressing matters at hand.
Manners were a thing of virtue. Travis tried to always keep that in mind, do his mother proud, and so he knocked softly on the bedroom door instead of barging right in as it was clear Gabe wanted to do. They waited a moment, their knock gone unanswered, before Travis twisted the knob and pushed the door open.
William was sitting at the foot of the bed, his eyes on the ground. He knew who was at the door, that's why he hadn't bothered calling out in answer. The situation he was in was inevitable, but he still held on to flimsy fast falling hopes that he could avoid it. Deflection came easily to him, it was how he had always been; it took others to pull him out of the place in his mind he tended to retreat to when things went bad. Gabe had always been good at that, it's why William had fallen for him so hard. Gabe had come into his life --no, that term wasn't appropriate, it was more along the lines of crashed-- so abruptly, he'd taken William by surprise. He still often did, managing to flip everyone upside down without even trying. And then there was Travis, sweet unassuming Travis. Hiding away he might never have gotten to know Travis, and that would've been a tragedy. Gabe drew the depths of William out, exposed him, and Travis was the one who made it okay for him to stay like that. It worked. He loved them. But he didn't want to see them.
Travis picked up on that right away, noticing the way that William's shoulders were rounded forward. The boy was trying to disappear into himself. He took one small step forward, enough to allow the door to click shut, but not enough to cause William to withdraw further. Gabe took it all the way, quickly moving to William's side, pulling William into his arms.
"Bilvy," Gabe breathed, and William tried not to flinch either the silly nickname or the sudden rush of touch and skin, "I'm gonna be a daddy."
The tense rigid line of William's spine broke at that, crumpling forward as William ducked his head further, curling up awkwardly in Gabe's arms. Travis had been trying to wait, trying to hold back until William was ready for him, but he couldn't any longer at that point. He took the few more steps that kept them apart, and kneeled in front of William. The younger man's eyes were wet, his face scrunched up in the effort to keep any tears from falling. Gabe's eyes sought out Travis' as well, questioning, confused. There was a certain sense of innocence in both.
"Hey, Bill," Travis lightly rested a hand on William's thigh, his voice quiet but sure, "No matter what, we're all in this together."