Chapter One Hundred and Eighty

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TRIGGER WARING: SENSITIVE TOPICS SOME MAY FIND DISTRESSING

Sam

"How's wor lil' man doing, doc?" I smiled softly.

The grimace on the doctor's face made my stomach flip and immediately my mind jumped to the worst. "Should we go somewhere quieter?" he asked gently.

"S-sure," I gulped, following my son's doctor into one of the offices.

It was sad but part of me was glad Rory was still mostly confined to a hospital bed to monitor her recovery. I knew she would be hysterical at that moment. I was on the inside but I was forcing myself to keep calm until I knew the whole story. Not that I believed it would be any better than I imagined.

"Oliver isn't doing well," he sighed. My heart dropped. "He's been showing signs of distress for the last few hours and we think it's sepsis. We've taken bloods to test but we can't know for sure until we get the results back."

"T-that's bad," I stammered.

"We're treating him the best we can with antibiotics but his immune system is so underdeveloped," he explained sadly.

Tears were starting to form in my eyes at the thought. Why did the universe hate me so much? And why take it out on my little boy and not me?

"What's the verdict?" I croaked, unsure of whether I wanted to know the answer.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it's likely Oliver won't recover," he told me sympathetically. It felt like the air had been knocked from my lungs.

"Isn't there anything yous can do?" I asked frantically.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "The only thing we can do now is hope the antibiotics clear the infection but even then, his organs are shutting down. It will be a miracle if he makes it through the night."

A strangled sob escaped my lips as the tears gathered in my eyes. Oliver hadn't been in the world for more than a few days and his time had been traumatic, to say the least. How was I supposed to tell Rory our son was going to die? She was going to be absolutely devastated. I was absolutely devastated.

"I'm sorry," I choked, "I just need a minute."

"Of course, take all the time yer need," he smiled sadly, leaving me to my own thoughts.

I didn't know what to do with myself and as I sat with my head in my hands, tears streaming violently down my cheeks, I couldn't bring myself to go to Rory. I knew I had to. These next few hours could possibly be our last with Oliver. I couldn't be selfish and take them from her because I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news.

So with reluctance, I wiped my damp cheeks and made the all-too-familiar trek to Rory's hospital room with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Hiya, darlin'," I smiled weakly as I entered the room.

"You've been crying," my girlfriend acknowledged nervously. "What's happened? Is it Oli? Is he okay?"

"Rory," I sighed, taking her hand in mine as I took a seat on the edge of the hospital.

"Oh, god," she cried.

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