Take Me By The Hand

Wow, is this fic really 118k words? That's crazy.

"Are they answering?" My voice is wrecked and thick with tears. I feel like I've been deepthroating a chainsaw, the taste of iron strong on my tongue from biting my lip too hard.

Gerard shakes his head, looking over at me from his place in the driver's seat. His knuckles are white, fingers wrapped too tightly around the steering wheel. He curses loudly and throws the cell phone onto the seat between us. "Does it still hurt?" His voice is strained, too, like he's forcing himself to remain mostly calm when everything is falling apart around us.

I let loose another involuntary whimper of pain. My legs are pressed as tightly to my growing stomach as I can get them, my arms wrapped around my knees. There's this stinging pain shooting through my insides, starting just below the waistline of my sweatpants and going up, spreading out in my stomach.

Gerard is watching me with wide, helpless eyes. I want to tell him to watch the road because the last thing we need right now is to get into a car accident, but I can't form words. My mind is spinning and my stomach is twisting and all I can focus on is the pain.

After the realization hit both Gerard and I back at the playground that there was blood on the blanket, we acted with as much rationality as either of us could manage. It was freaky and scary to see the red mingling with the clear white byproduct of my orgasm-- It was neither normal nor reassuring to have my penis bleeding after a handjob. So we rushed back to the car and attempted to call Bob, tell him what the hell is happening and demand a reasonable explanation, but it was as I was climbing into the car that the pain started. It came out of nowhere and it felt like there were explosions of dynamite in my stomach, like someone gave the twins fireworks and it was the fourth of fucking July. After a minute, the pain subsided, leaving a dull ache in it's place, and I felt numb as my lip quivered. But soon enough, the pain was back, hitting me like a brick to my sides and causing me to double over again as if someone had just punched me in the gut.

I could only think of the twins-- Either they were coming now, or we were losing them. It was as this thought hit me that I started crying. I could easily blame the tears on the physical toll it was taking on my body, but I knew the truth; I was scared for them. I couldn't lose them, that much was obvious to me. I had grown to love them, they were mine, my babies. But at the same time, I wasn't ready. I was nowhere near ready for them to come out, to actually hold two little children in my arms, to care for them like no one else would. And as we inched closer, second by second, to the apartments, this thought was the one that scared me the most; I thought I was ready for this, but I'm really really not.

"We're almost there," Gerard informs me. I'm sure that he's breaking nearly every speed limit posted, but we're the only car on the road at just past two in the morning, and with my stomach twisting in painful knots again, we can't get back to the apartments fast enough.

Within five minutes, the car is screeching to a stop haphazardly across two parking spaces. Gerard jumps out, appearing on my side of the car in an instant, opening my door and helping me out. I'm not ready to stand up and I don't feel like uncurling from my little ball, but I know that we have to get upstairs to Bob. We have to find out what's wrong.

By the time we reach the bottom of the first set of stairs, the pain has subsided a bit. It becomes a dull ache in my lower back, almost like a vague memory of the sting it was before. I'm still shaking, leaning heavily against Gerard because I'm afraid my legs might decide to stop working on me, but I manage to make it to the third floor after stopping to catch my breath only twice.

The room Ray and Bob share is closest to the stairs, for which I'm grateful, and as soon as we reach the room, Gerard is pounding on the door. I press a hand against my stomach, physically trying to feel the babies inside, make sure they're alright and not clawing their way out. I feel a bit of squirming in response and sigh softly at the sensation. Leaning against the wall, I hear someone moving around inside the apartment. Bob throws the door open a moment later. He blinks hazily a few times, running a tired hand through his messy hair, and looks between Gerard and I.