Stars may collide

He shook his head.  “I - don’t think I could stomach it right now,” he admitted.  True, his stomach was in knots with worry over Darren and the kids (not just the babies, all the kids).  Sleep was the alternative.  Well, maybe if he was certain that sleep would make time move faster, and that Darren wouldn’t go anywhere, he could coax himself to sleep.  In time (while still ignoring the food), his eyelids did become heavy enough where he drifted off to sleep.  Maybe he needed the rest a lot more than he’d ever admit.  However, falling asleep that early on meant that his eyes snapped open the second daylight streamed through the window.  

But Darren had a point,even if Chris was not 100% keen on that truth.  Chris did feel exhausted, and he knew that his body needed to recover.  They needed to make sure his heart and rest of his recovering, injured body passed the evaluation stage.  But something he did want was to be closer to Darren, so that maybe he didn’t feel so anxious and alone. It was like he was fighting these doubting demons in his mind. He had read stuff about ‘post-partum depression’ in the books, but that hardly affected him before.  Maybe because there was always a lot going on... The last time, it was that he had to spring back to normal fast to take care of Darren.  He knew he needed to do that again this time, but his mind just didn’t want to move past the ‘what if’s’ worst-case scenarios.  

He managed to keep his composure until he got to his bed, and that’s when the tears escaped him.  He hastily wiped his tears and then reached for Lea’s hand, and gazed into her eyes.  “Thank You... for everything,” he said softly, and then closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that she and Jon had both saved their lives that day, all five of them.  How his heart yearned to see the babies right now. It felt like something was missing.  He and the babies were just really getting to know one another from within the womb, and here they were just torn away from there weeks before they were supposed to.  It felt ... almost unnatural, like something had clearly been missing.  He put a hand on his stomach for a second, and exhaled a sigh.  “S-sorry - everything’s just ... dawning on me at the same time.”  His voice shook softly, and  he went to hastily wipe the tears with the back of his hand, but cringed as he accidentally tugged against the IV on the back of his hand.  

He put his hand down and Lea offered a small, supporting smile and reached for his hand again to squeeze it. “Would it help to know that I got pictures?” she asked softly.  Chris nodded as he held his hand out for the phone to see. “Obviously, they haven’t let anyone hold them yet, well other than the nurses. They’re waiting until you guys are strong enough to go in there, something about skin-on-skin contact, which is supposed to really help them too.  But I got close enough to see...”  Chris couldn’t hold his tears as he saw them, so little, so frail, but so...alive. “Oh... um, please... show Dare.. he should see them too,” he handed the phone back to Lea.  

Meanwhile Jon had been by Darren at this time, and had noticed his change in demeanor.  Both Darren and Chris seemed really anxious about their kids and relieved that their parents had come in to take care of the crew. “Well, we got to see them, not hold them... but see them - oh Lea got the pictures, here, you want to see?”  Lea had come  by Darren’s bedside, and held out her phone, so that Darren could see the babies too.  “Well if you’re not going to sleep, you can get an idea of how these cute, tiny little ones look like... It looks like the boys got Darren’s nose and Chris’ eyes, and Jamie got Chris’ nose and Darren’s eyes...but um, they all got quite a bit of dark hair that’s likely to curl in a matter of weeks. I think  they got your hair.”

There were still visions of what he saw when he was unconscious that needed answering.  For fear that people might think him crazy, he didn’t talk about them.  Lea looked at Chris, and saw that he was fighting back tears.  “What’s wrong.”  Chris shook his head, “N-nothing, I guess I really am just emotionally exhausted too.”  He let out a shaky breath.  “C-can you tel me what happened after the babies were born?”  It was in that moment where he knew that what went on in his mind had to be something else. He remembered telling Lea to look over his kids, or making sure someone took care of them. But when she told him (through her own tears) that he had ‘died’ for at least 5 minutes, a lump formed in his throat. “And Darren?” he asked softly. “We almost lost him too, close to the same time.  It was ... one of those things you can’t explain or ever want to see again.”  

Chris squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the tears escaped his eyes.  When he opened them he reached for Lea’s hand. “Thank you, for everything” he whispered.  She and Jon had saved them both.  Meanwhile on Darren’s end, Jon had been beside him. “We got him back on that bed where he belongs. He’s not the only one that needs to rest. You’ve had a rough few days. Um, take it easy little guy.”  He reached over and placed a friendly hand on Darren’s shoulder, and his expression grew serious, but somber. “But whatever you do, that stunt of flatlining at the same time... never again, or we’ll have to just kill you and make it look like an accident... are we clear?”  He shook his head wearily.  The scare with these two!  But at the same time, those babies clung onto life the very same way their dads did.  This was definitely something that ran in the family.

As they removed the tube and asked him to cough, he did cough and sputter, and he winced at how raw his throat felt. “Ow,” he rasped.  “Is there any water or something I can drink?”  His voice was weak from the rawness of his throat, but definitely a clear sign that he could breathe on his own.  He made to get up, but winced. Oooh, that was tender.  He remembered that after giving birth, he was always sore for a bit, but this was a different kind of pain.  Jon pushed him back on the bed. “Okay easy guy, the doctor told you to stay put.”  Chris glared back.  “I need to see him at least,  Help me across, or push the damn beds together.”  Clearly, it would be more difficult to move the beds together right this very minute, given the monitor and oxygen and IV that Chris was hooked to, and the several tubes and wires and IV’s that Darren was hooked to.  Jon knew better than to argue, and looked over his shoulder to make sure no nurse was poking in again.  

“Okay, but don’t pull your wires, just to the bedside, then back to your bed, okay?”  Chris sighed and held out an arm out for Jon to help him up, and let out a soft hiss of pain.  He reached his hand down to feel his ribs which were bandaged.  Apparently he had broken a couple of ribs and bruised a lung in the process of that beating.  Obviously, he still had something of a residual stomach, having given birth mere days earlier, but it wasn’t as hard to maneuver as when he had been pregnant days before.  His body was mostly stiff and bruised as if he had been run over by a bus.  

“I’m fine now, just... let me be with him,” Chris said softly at Lea, who stepped away so he could have the part by the bed to hold Darren’s hand.  Whispering helped, given his voice was still hoarse, and his throat still so raw.  He leaned forward and kissed Darren softly on the forehead, as there had been a tube in his mouth as well.  Oh god, what had happened to him?  “Hey baby... I came back for you...please come back for me,” he whispered softly in Dare’s ear.  

He hesitated, swallowed hard, and took a shaky breath, as deep as his aching chest would allow.  “Unless it’s too much pain, because then, yeah I understand if you need to let go.”  Tears welled in his eyes. The entire pregnancy, he was so selfish, refusing to allow himself to say it.  He had thought to say it, because in the later days, he could see the obvious pain that Darren was in.  The tubing around Darren would easily get tangled in the tubing that attached Chris to his monitors, so he couldn’t exactly crawl into bed with Darren.  He instead knelt down by Darren’s bed to do the thing he did most frequently throughout the pregnancy, lay his ear on Darren’s chest to listen to his beating heart. A soft smile formed along his lips, as those tears streamed down his face.  Through everything, Darren was still there... It reassured him that if the babies had an ounce of Darren’s fighting spirit, things were going to be okay.

Lea took a step towards Chris.  “Sweetie?  Um, I know you guys want to be reunited, but don’t forget what the doctor said.  You should rest.”  Chris waved her away.  “Just, ... I’ll be okay, I need this, now, to be with him.”  Chris closed his eyes and hadn’t noticed Darren opening his eyes.  It was Lea’s gasp that gave it awake. “Darren, he’s awake.”  Chris jolted out of his daze and looked at Darren’s face, noticing his eyes fluttering and then he slowly pushed himself up from kneeling and looked right at those eyes that had melted his heart all those years ago. “Rise and Shine Dare Bear,” he breathed, amidst his tears.  

The last contraction had to be one of the worst he had felt, as it rendered him unable to move. It was as if his body were failing him. First, it was failing to keep the babies in just a few weeks longer, and now, it was as if he couldn’t even move.  Was it even normal to feel this drowsy as these contractions ripped through his body?  Or to have such an excruciating headache at the same time.   His head feebly slumped back against Lea, and whimpered softly. “Lea, I’ve been through these before... something’s wrong... something is...”  The next contraction caused his words to escape him.

At the same time, Jon was by Darren’s side, and he reached for his hand.  “He know’s you’re with him... Just stay with him,” he said softly to Darren. The other male could tell just by across the room by Chris’ stare. “I think...well I read somewhere, when people are in labor, they keep their eye on this focal point. Darren just keep staring, he knows you’re with him - okay?  The babies are going to be okay, you’re going to pull through, but just hang in there.”

At that moment, both Darren’s doctor and Chris’ doctor seemed to be in cahoots as they entered practically at the same time. Although weakening, Chris’ snappiness through contractions seeped through.  “Oh no - that one goes...look at the job he’s done with my husband - my guy stays- OH GOD.”  The ninja grip he had on Lea’s hand was something brutal, and even Darren’s oncologist seemed to have figured out something (clearly ignoring the man’s remarks, thinking that was some comment resulting from massive amounts of pain).  “The ... placental cells...did he sign to preserve them?” 

Chris’ doctor’s eyes quickly widened. Certainly, this conversation hadn’t arisen. Actually this wasn’t the type of conversation that they would be having for another few more weeks. “W-what is he saying?”  Chris’ words came between gasps,as another nauseating spell hit him, combined with the body-wracking pain. “I - really can’t hold it in m-much l-longer.”  His voice hitched slightly in the break between contractions.  But it dawned on him... he had read about this somewhere... preserving placental cells... stem cells... this was a last ditch effort to save Darren.  “Yes.... -d-do it ,,, anything.  I consent..  I volunteer!”    

He suddenly felt like this intense pressure overcoming him, and it was as if another force commanded him...the natural force of child-bearing at it’s ugliest... He knew eyes were on him. Darren’s were there, and he met Darren’s gaze and flashed a hint of a smile before another contraction hit him.  At this moment, he hadn’t noticed that a couple attending nurses had removed his pants, or that Lea was now dabbing his face with a rag soaked in warm water. “Come on Chris....just let it happen... don’t worry it’ll be okay.”

It took three laborious pushes to get the first one out... Sirius - not even a cry at first, but in time, at least a pitiful little cry.... Chris felt his eyelids grow heavy. He tried to keep his eyes on where they were taking him. He didn’t even have time to plead to hold him when the contractions started up again.... oh god this again. In the midst of one, he felt his eyes start to close. “Chris stay with us, you’re doing so well.”  There was Lea’s coaching, and then the struggle to look across the room.  Again, his mouth twitched up at Darren.  In the background, there was bustle over the first born. Then there was the urge to push again. Chris remembered one instance of the pushing where his head just fell back  against Lea’s.  “If I - don’t.... take care of them, all of them...” Something did feel wrong, but before long, strangled, little Remus came into the world... Then Jamie.... 

At that point, everything rushed - the doctors and nurses over babies in incubators.  Chris could feel his body slacken, failing him further as he shivered in Lea’s arms. “Help me ... see them...” She helped pull Chris to a sitting position where he could see tiny babies for a split second before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He would never remember the fit that had overtaken his body for seemingly ten minutes or so before the medicine seemed to work, or that for a moment he ‘died’ in Lea’s arms.  But there was a strange memory he would remember... which was him for a moment somehow standing in the room, watching people work on his limp body. There was blood, so much blood.  There was Lea, pushed out of the way, and suddenly Jon and Lea pushed out of the room.  Chris tried to protest, but no one heard him.  

He remembered holding Darren’s hand... but weird enough, he wasn’t holding Darren’s hand, because if he was, who was that person on the ground.  But how could he be whispering in Darren’s ear how beautiful their babies were.. babies that were rushed across the next ward over, in incubators, with tubes and wires all around.  He couldn’t truthfully understand that in the midst of reviving Chris, they were able to salvage  the placenta to get those stem cells that they were going to attempt to transfer into Darren in a last-ditch attempt to save him.  

At the hospital, he met Jon and Lea, both who each went straight to the hospital once Chris was able to contact them (through Darren’s phone).  Chris would certainly have to get a new phone within the next few days or so.  His phone had been completely destroyed when he took that fall.  It was a pity, because he had so much good photos in there, especially of past doctors appointments. He paced quite a bit, despite his friends telling him that it would be much better for him to sit and rest.  But the pacing helped ease the nerves, and it helped with the incessant cramping in his stomach.  Perhaps if he had been thinking clearly, he might think to time these cramping spells, just in case they were something more than ‘fake’ contractions.  But,  that never crossed his mind,  

Finally, he had been allowed in the room, and there Darren had been, unconscious.  Chris could feel himself cracking as he took his hand, and held back those tears.  And then, it seemed like Darren started to stir, and Chris was instantly focused on his husband, and not any lingering pain.  “Dare,” he breathed as relief spread across his face.  “I’m fine... I promise. Just please, rest and recover from this, okay?  We’ve got you all the help you need to be al-Argh!”  Okay this one hurt, maybe there was something to be alarmed with. 

There was a gush of water that escaped, and Chris let out a startling yelp, as he clutched his stomach.  He couldn’t mask this fear.  Something went horribly wrong. “They’re... coming, oh god, they’re coming, someone please stop them.”  He tried pressing his legs together, but that just made the pain that much more worse.

“Lea, here I got coffee - woah!”  Jon almost slipped across the floor.  He looked down, and saw a puddle of water he about wiped out on, with Lea’s hand over her mouth.  Chris, trembling, clung to the railing of Darren’s hospital bed, amidst the tightening pain against his belly. “No, no no, it’s to soon.”  Panic caused him to press the red call button of Darren’s hospital bed.  

Jon’s eyes widened as he was by Darren’s bedside, and he looked at Chris, bewildered before he darted out to drag someone in scrubs in, anyone.  A nurse came in with all this commotion, expecting to scold someone for the loud voices, but then it became obvious this was an emergency. “We need to get him to OB/GYN!”  Chris shook his head, he couldn’t even move, as he gripped Darren’s rail. “I - can’t move,” he half sobbed.  “Someone please help me.”  A doctor rushed in, and immediately recognized Chris as the patient who refused treatment until Darren had been properly checked. “We can’t move him, he hasn’t been examined since he came.  We don’t even know what’s wrong.”  

Lo and behold, he got signal, but he had to be quick, as him locking the door only bought him precious seconds.  Fortunately he was quick, and he was able to do this undetected.  Oddly enough, walking seemed to help the cramping.  Maybe that was just being in one position.  When he got back though, the cramping started again, as one constant twinge.  He breathed those calming breaths, oddly the same technique he used for breathing through the contractions when he gave birth to the twins, and it seemed to help some as the cramping subsided.  Or better yet, maybe it was Darren’s touch that made things a tiny bit better.  “Mmm yeah that’s better,” he murmured tiredly.  He felt drowsy, but there seemed to be a keen sense of alertness as that adrenaline still pumped through him. Especially as Darren coughed and gasped for air.  “I did text Lea and Jon...”  At that moment he remembered how fast he stowed away his phone, so he hadn’t even checked. He reached for his phone, under the blanket, and winced again in his own discomfort. “I sent the coordinates of our location, and Lea and Jon each called for help. We just have to stay put.”  

At that moment, he had to slide his phone under his ass to sit on, as those people came back in. “Listen - do this, and we let you go just like that, don’t do this, and we keep you until you do. The lead lady has these papers drawn up, something about wanting rights to her kid back. All you guys have to do is sign on the line, and we let you go, easy as that. Or, you can just cut her a check for $10 Million, and it’s as if you never met. Don’t do that, and I guess we just have to keep you until you either cough up the kid or the cash.” At this moment, Chris’ eyes narrowed. He was pissed, in pain, and now even more disgusted than ever,.  “Give up the kid, she’s not for sale.  She’s our daughter you pieces of shits!”  His hand inched closer to the knife.  Maybe it was the anger crossed with pain that was making him a little crazy, but he just had to wait more, until there was a chance to catch them off guard.

The guys left, and Chris turned his attention to Darren. “Sweetie, hang in there, okay?  Help is on its way.” He cradled Darren close to him for who knows what amount of time before the aching came back which sort of gave him the urgency to walk off the cramps.  In a clearer state of mind, he might suspect that something was wrong.  But right now, all he focused on was his extremely vulnerable, ill, and injured husband who needed medical care like yesterday-ago.  “Shh - just let me walk this cramping off some - I’m right here oka-”  At that moment, he heard steps thundering down where one of the guys, really angry, came at him. “Okay who tipped off the cops?” Chris gave him a bewildered look, and the guy shoved him to the point where he fell and cringed as he realized his phone in his back pocket had crunched beneath him. The guy looked at the shattered phone, then at the fallen Chris, and again, kneed him in the stomach as he got up. “You little shit!  You have any idea what is going to happen now?”  The guy reached for his gun at this point.

Chris did cry out in pain as it literally felt like something tore in him. He couldn’t feel the babies for what seemed an eternity, but it was maybe 30 seconds.  This switched off something insane in Chris as he reached for the knife and literally jumped on the guy and knocked him over.  “I’LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” This was definitely a side to Chris that no one had ever seen. The pain and anger was obvious on his face, but something just kept him going.  He struggled with the guy enough to wrestle the gun loose, which he tossed right by Darren.  By then, the other guys had thundered down.... Who knew what could happen next.  This struggle seemed to last an eternity before they heard steps thundering down.  “Freeze!  Police!”  

At that moment, Chris froze, trembling as he held the knife to the guy’s throat, as tears rolled down his cheeks. “You’re lucky ... damn lucky they got here,” he whispered as an officer approached him. “Chris Colfer, Darren Criss?”  Chris nodded as he held an arm out to be helped up. “Please tell me you can get us to a hospital,” he responded faintly, as a dizziness and fatigue spell overcame him.  

He looked back at Darren, in concern. “Baby - that cough sounded horrible, here, until we get the blanket...”  He shrugged off his coat and then wrapped it around Darren and hugged him close, as if he wanted to keep him warm.  Of course, he felt nauseous, achy, and weak, but his intuition told him to focus on Darren, to keep his strength up during this ordeal.  “We need to get you to the hospital.  That fall could have done serious bleed damage,” he commented.  “My phone has that GPS.  I’m going to try to send that emergency SOS to see if someone can track us.”  He took the phone, slipped it into his sock, and covered it with his pant leg.  Fortunately he could (though barely) reach his ankles).  He tucked the knife into the other sock.  

When they came back and gave them blankets, they stared at them for a while, and Chris glowered as he took the water. How kind of them to give them candy bars. Then again, the sugary food wasn’t great for Chris, as he had no earthly idea how high his sugars could get.  Then again, it had been several hours since his last food, that tiny piece of toast, so the desperation made him eat his candy without thinking, but not until he also handed Darren water and his candy.  But after some time of a staring contest, they left the room again, something about discussing an increase of price with the customer.  Chris pulled his phone out, but under the blankets, which he used one to cover Darren, and the other, to wrap between them.  “My signal sucks, so I can’t make outgoing calls, but I think I can trigger the SOS emergency signal.  Um there, I think - I tried - crap someone’s coming!” 

He quickly shoved that phone back into his sock and made as he was reaching for his water, as he looked at the guy and cleared his throat. “Um ... what does a guy have to do to use the bathroom around here?” he asked, looking around.  The guy looked at him.  “There’s a bucket over there.”  Chris gave him an annoyed look.  “Look - I’m not peeing in a bucket - that’s inhumane, demeaning, not to mention totally unsanitary.  You see that guy over there - weakened immune system, and unless you want me whining for hours about how badly I have to pee - you’re going to show me where a real bathroom is at.”  With some hesitation, one guy agreed.  “You, watch the other guy, make sure he doesn’t do anything. You - follow me, and you try anything - you know what’ll happen.  Let’s move it.” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “You try carrying three kids and have a broken foot, and see how fast you move,” he grumbled as he got up and made his way towards the guy.  He turned to Darren. “I won’t be long.”  He glared at the others.  “You hurt him - and I swear, it’s the last thing you’ll ever do,” he growled.  He followed the guy up some stairs, to a less-dingy but still kind of drafty looking loft. The guy stared at him as he walked in the bathroom. Chris went to close the door.  “Door stays open,” the guy told him.  Chris shook his head.  “I don’t think so.”  He slammed the door shut and locked it. “You want to go down for murder for killing 4 people, go right ahead and shoot!”  he taunted the guy, and the knocks and threats subsided.  

Chris sighed and went about his business, but quick enough to bide him time to take out his phone (which was in silence), to send a text convo to Lea and Jon that said:  HELD HOSTAGE - GPS ON - GET HELP - PLZ HURRY. He shoved the phone in his sock quickly and went to the faucet to wash his hands when the pounding returned.  “A GUY HAS TO WASH HIS HANDS!” he called back, as he messed with the faucet to wash his hands, but groaned at the idea of no soap.  “You guys are disgusting.”  He unlocked the door and held his hands out.  “Nothing - except ... soap-free washed hands, happy now, okay I’ll go back.”  

He couldn’t see.  Not only was he pretty damn blind without glasses, his nighttime vision was horrible without them.  He was damned blind in the dark.  Chris could feel a lot of other discomforts.  He could feel that nauseating flush of increasing blood pressure and the heart palpitations that accompanied it.  His head throbbed, and that cut absolutely stung.  He felt a nauseating dizziness, which meant that he needed food, and he was parched... Lack of water meant cramping.  Usually when the fake pains happened, water and a change of position made it all go away.  Being in this awkward sitting position and lack of water, Chris was bound to feel much more uncomfortable in the next couple of hours.  Dehydration induced muscle contractions.  One thing that Chris could not afford was strong enough muscle contractions where it mattered the most.  He needed to stay calm, but easier said than done.

Then there was this thud, and Darren.  “Sweetie - “ he gasped, feeling his breath come quickly.  He was about to go into a full-blown panic, but he needed to think.  “Just - hold still - I’m fine ... I just need to think...”  Tears trickled down his cheeks, in fear, in frustration, but most of all, in fury.  “I’ll kill her, I swear, when I get my hands on her - I -...” he winced slightly at a cramp that twinged his back.  He needed a better position.  He squirmed slightly, as his fingers detected the firm knotting around the rope.  “Dare - before they come back, I am going to tilt my chair towards your hands, try to reach into my jacket...”  He tried to lean his chair awkwardly, but the lack of balance only knocked him over beside Darren, and that noise, they heard.  

Chris remembered footsteps, and angry ‘HEY!’ and a firm kick to his stomach which knocked him back.  He tried to stifle the surprised and anguished cry, not knowing if there was damage done, but as his air escaped him, so did the strangled cry.  “If you’re going to hit me, don’t hit there, don’t hurt them!” The guy stopped and looked at Chris bewildered. “Them,” he repeated, and he shone a flashlight to Chris’ face which caused him to wince as his headache intensified.  Fuckers gave him a concussion!  “Are you that stupid that you didn’t notice you snatched off some pregnant person off the streets?” He was pissed at this point to which the guy stepped back.  “She didn’t say that... Liability - this could be worse than we thought, we might have to do this our way.”  

“Please just untie us - he needs to be warm, he’s sick.  I - can’t be tied up like this, it’s not good for me at all, please.” Normally he wouldn’t plead, but anything to get it their way.  “Untie us, and leave us here, lock us in if you have to, but just at least have some decency to give a couple of guys blankets and water.”  With some hesitation, they untied them, but not without guns pointed at them. “Any move, and that’s it, got it?”  They were untied, and Chris’ hands went instantly to his stomach as he willed them to start moving.  He wasn’t sure if that kick hurt them,  He hoped they didn’t. “Uh - we’ll be back with the blankets then.”  The guys were saying other bits of conversation, but Chris couldn’t make it out.  Again, he ran his hand over his stomach, trying to stimulate them.  A sob escaped his lips as he felt some movement.  They were alive.  And there was Darren to worry about. In that struggle, he had almost forgotten Darren was in the room too.  

He did focus on the shower, and concealing his own breakdown. It was like he couldn’t escape this paranoid fear that he was going to lose Darren and be alone in the world.  For a few weeks, sleep was his solace from escaping the thoughts, but now they were starting to seep into his subconscious.  He felt like he could be even going a little mad, but the last thing he wanted was to start wedging that awkward space between them as he had in the first weeks following Darren’s diagnosis.  

It was a given that the lack of being able to tie his shoes - well shoe - was certainly the thing that could put Chris over the edge, especially since he was already kind of awkwardly self-conscious about his appearance lately.  But it really wasn’t that at all.  It was a mix of that fear of losing Darren, of being alone, of the world being such a bleak place, and then to top it off, he just felt awkward these recent weeks. It was also expected that with such thoughts racing through his mind, of course he wouldn’t be able to stomach food.  Apparently, neither could Darren, because they were only there eating toast briefly before they headed out the door.  

When Darren first mentioned walking,Chris cringed slightly and shook his head. “I’m too huge, awkward, and clumsy to escape the masses. I don’t think this penguin waddle would take me that far, boot or no boot.” He reached over and smoothed some hair away from over Darren’s eyes. “Besides, you look so tired. Yeah,calling a driver would be better.”  Before too long, the driver had arrived, and Chris clumsily slid in the back and waited for Darren to get in.  As Darren leaned back, Chris leaned against him, and again pressed his ear against the other man’s chest. But moments later, he lifted his head as he frowned at the surroundings.  “This isn’t the way to the hospital -” he began as he leaned over to speak to the driver.”Hey - did you hear me, this is the wrong way.”

Suddenly he froze and limply sat back as the guy drew a small handgun out and pointed it at him. “There’s been a change of plans.  We’re going somewhere else.”  Chris’ instinct was to guard his stomach and sort of shield over Darren.  He was afraid to even speak, except for one point where he whispered in Darren’s ear. “He starts shooting get behind me. You still bleed out more easily.”  He didn’t stop to think of anything except protect the babies and protect Darren.  But on the inside, he was terrified. But it wasn’t until the car stopped that things got more terrifying - as that was when they suddenly stopped, were forced out of the car, pillowcases were shoved over their faces with only tiny slits not to suffocate them, and they were separated for what seemed to be ages, but maybe had been about an hour’s drive.  

Of course Chris tried to fight off anyone restraining him and taking him away from Darren, which probably explained his initial reaction to fight it. He might have succeeded if he wasn’t hit upside the head with some blunt object (which he’d later find out was the back of a gun), which rendered him unconscious in the separate car, and left a cut along his forehead.  The next thing he remembered was waking up in a dimly lit, drafty, dusty room, where he was tied to a chair.  Blood trickled down the side of his face where he had been hit, but he couldn’t even reach his hand around to wipe the blood away.  “Dare - “ he breathed, not quite able to see, since the hit to the face had knocked his glasses off his face, and clearly out of sight, probably in the place where he had gotten hit. 

He playfully pouted at the mention of being good and doing the responsible things to stay healthy but then broke into a fond smile when Darren greeted the little ones.  There was just something special about his touch.  And the kids always seemed to react to it.  “Oh look, they’re like Daddy I’m awake now!  That’s the life, nap, and eat.”  He winked at Darren at this, and ignored the knot at the pit of his stomach.  God, every time he thought of all the good things, something inside his mind reminded him that those good things could very well be timed.  Before any panic could set in, he decided to get ready and take his shower.

He waited until the shower started and he stepped in (with music - Hamilton Soundtrack this time), and figured that the music could at least stifle the sound of his crying. He didn’t want Darren to see that breakdown.  It was already becoming so much.  The nightmares, the day-to-day apprehension, not to mention his hormones were up and down, but mostly down as of late. He pressed his arm against the shower wall and cried into his arm, a good few minutes, 10 maybe, to let out all that emotion.  Fortunately he was in a shower where hot water could run on his face just for a moment.... After that, he went about the usual shower routine washing his hair and body, before he turned off the faucet, exited the shower, and went about his usual morning prep routine of getting dressed.  

...But those damn shoes... He had officially reached the can’t tie my shoes phase.  He could feel the tears threatening to well up in his eyes again, but he could blame it on frustration about the shoes.  Actually, he was thinking of what would become of him if it wasn’t for Darren. That nightmare had been strangely accurate as to what could happen at rock bottom. But he wasn’t supposed to think that way.  Why did he think that way?  He wiped his eyes and then rolled them.  “Thanks baby, you’re my hero,” he murmured, as he obliged to get up so they could get to that appointment.  

“That’s a good idea, um, I mean, better safe than sorry, right?”  Chris bit his lip in the same way he did when he could have sworn he forgot something.  “I have an appointment anyways, you know just a floor above.  They want to give me that disgusting blood sugar screening, you know the one with the nasty stuff I have to drink.  Also a scan to make sure that everything is going alright up in there.”  Doctor appointments were a pain with Chris lately, because the latest concern was keeping track of his heart and blood pressure.  But so far, things were pretty much controlled.  The only complaint Chris really had was with his sleep habits.

The mention of food caused Chris to perk up. Okay, maybe he was a little too excited about the prospect of food lately, but growing three people meant that he needed to keep up his strength. “Um- maybe we could try that new Italian restaurant down the road?  I know they have a good soup that could at least be something you could work with,” he offered.  True, and pasta really seemed like something Chris could go for right now.  

He sat up on the bed and maneuvered his legs over the side of the bed as he gingerly put pressure on his boot-free leg as he stood. Of course, he couldn’t be sleeping or showering with it, so there were instances where he had to limp around boot free first thing in the morning.  “Ugh, everything creaks when I stand up, from my back to my knees.”  He flashed an amused smile and rolled his eyes. “But, I need a shower. From the looks of it, pity you already took one.” He obviously was teasing.  At this point of the pregnancy, and as clumsy as he still was with his leg still a bit on the weak side, he took up space in a shower - mostly using an arm to prop him up as he went about every shower business. 

He re-emerged, towel wrapped around his waist, though he shied away from looking at his reflection in the mirror just yet. Lately, Chris had started to get self-conscious about his size, and he hadn’t even reached the end of the line.  When he re-emerged, he was clad in a pair of altered jeans and a fitted Tshirt over an open button-down shirt.  This time, he trolled the public more wearing a white shirt with the button-down being blue with thin pink pinstripes.  His hair had already started to grow to the point where he could style it and not have to wear a hat. It had reached a point in Darren’s treatment where his hair was starting to grow back, so Chris spared the public of views of his own intentionally shaved head.  He sat at the side of the bed and worked on getting his shoes, well shoe (thanks to the other one being clad with a boot) on,  

Like these late-pregnancy days, he had a habit of tossing and turning until he was comfortable, getting up to go to the bathroom every minute, and then there was the pregnancy nightmares.  Given that he was off any sleeping medication (because of the pregnancy), he always was prone to funny sleep habits... sleep shopping, sleep eating, sleepwalking, and even sleep cleaning (what had landed him in the foot cast in the first place).  But these nightmares were the worst in the way that they were so vivid, and so focused on his biggest fears... Losing Darren... Losing the kids... Losing his family.  

This nightmare had been the worst.  Something about Darren dying, but Chris taking this huge risk to save Darren that damaged his own health, a tangle of a web of lies, a messy divorce, and Chris alone in a room, knife in hand, and later, a blood - splattered suicide note that said ‘forgive me’.  Everything faded to black, and then suddenly the fog lifted, and there was Darren, speaking to him. Oh it was only a dream, a horrible, horrible dream.

Chris let out a shuddering gasp and buried his face into Darren’s as he choked back a sob. “You’re here, Dare, I - it was awful. I - really messed things up, and then I lost all of you.”  It took him a moment to get himself together, some deep breaths, a few swipes to the nightstand to get his glasses, and then Chris peered back at Darren. “Those dreams, oh god.”  He exhaled a deep sigh and then pushed himself up to sit, and he rubbed a spot of his swollen stomach.  “Oh, looks like we’re all waking up now, and really happy that was just a dream. How are you, sweetheart?  Good day or bad day?”    

He did blush and rub his belly at the audible stomach growl.  “Good grief, you’d think I hadn’t eaten in days, not hours,” he muttered as he rolled his eyes.  True, even in days where the idea of eating something just exhausted him, there were growing babies in there that demanded their nourishment.  What more, even though Chris felt absolutely huge, like literally now the size of what he was the days leading up to birthing the twins, he was still considered slightly ‘underweight’ at this state of a triplet pregnancy.  At this point, he and his toes had been close to strangers in past weeks, unless he sat back and lifted his leg up so to see his toes.  “I wouldn’t say I’d turn into the monster. Maybe these three would claw their way out if I don’t find food soon, and that’d be wayyyy too messy,” he commented with an amused grin.  

Of course dealing with fans made Chris weary these days, he was good at that front, especially thinking of poor Dare.  Very easily, he was able to joke about being a clumsy fool, and even made a joke that at the very least, he fell on his leg, and did well to protect the ‘valuable cargo,’ - i.e., the growing life in his womb.  It had been a tough couple of years for Chris, but especially more for Darren.  Chris had to admit he missed the happy, energetic Darren, and he hoped that Darren would bounce back sooner than later.  In the meantime, Chris was definitely there to support Darren in any way he needed along the way.