Devil's Fate

How Much For a Z?

Chester sat on the bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. It had been a long few weeks since he'd last been able to sit in the tight ball, but his pregnancy belly wasn't an issue now. His arms were wrapped around his legs, his fingers pressed into the material of his jeans as he stared down at the paper next to him.

Two days ago he'd passed out. Two days ago he'd lost Ellie, his parenting class assignment called off early. Today he'd gone to see Mrs. Kitchens, and among a lot of explanation and good natured conversation when she assured him he would receive a good grade for his effort, she'd handed him Ellie's report. It was a lot of numbers, a lot of data in grid form that listed things like how often she kicked, how many times she was removed, if any, if there had been any trauma to the belly or to the machine inside.

Everything on the paper was in the positive. Chester had taken good care of the belly while he had it, the evidence was proof to his teacher, and that was what would reflect on his grade when the time came.

But it was the handwritten note at the bottom that Chester couldn't stop staring at. The black cursive lettering that stated: pregnancy terminated early for health concerns.

Chester shut his eyes as he buried his face between his knees, his arms going over his head. I wasn't healthy enough. I couldn't carry her to the end because I'm not healthy enough. Not strong enough. I'm sorry, he whispered in his mind to the baby that didn't exist. He felt a warm tear slip down his cheek, but he kept his head down.

From the side of the bed, he heard Cheese whine. "I'm okay," he told the dog, his voice muffled. "I'm just mad at myself." He picked his head up and looked over the side of the bed. The little terrier was up on her hind legs, trying to see where he was. "Come on, Cheesy Girl," Chester said softly as he scooped her up and sat her on his lap. He bent his head down, rubbing his wet cheek against her warm fur. She licked his hand, and a sad smile slowly crawled across Chester's face. "I love you, too. Thanks, Cheese."

Mike opened the door to the apartment. Even though he was hoping to find Chester in the kitchen, he wasn't entirely surprised to see the light off, and both the living room and kitchen silent. It had been a strange few days since Chester passed out and they'd lost Ellie. What happened with Matt was already in the background. Mike had decided how he was going to handle that situation, and he had an appointment with the Dean tomorrow.

He dropped his backpack next to the couch and headed for the bedroom. I wonder if I should tell him I'm going to turn Matt in. I don't want to upset him more. I really don't want to bring it up. Mike started to pull off his flannel as he stepped in the bedroom, his eyes landing on Chester and Cheese. His boyfriend looked so sad, and it made Mike's heart pinch. "Hey," he called softly, tossing his flannel at the hamper. It missed, but Mike didn't go to pick it up. He knelt down beside the bed to try to see Chester's face. "I missed you today. What's wrong, babe?"

With one arm still around Cheese, Chester reached over and picked up the piece of paper to hand off to his boyfriend. "I got Ellie's report. It says I did a good job...I just wasn't healthy enough to finish." He pointed at the handwritten note at the bottom before he curled both arms around their puppy and held her close to his body. She was small but warm, and she licked his wrist, right over one of his flame tattoos.

Mike glanced over the paper quickly, his breath catching at the bottom where the word terminated stuck out. I knew I should have fought his professor more. I should have insisted she wait until Chester woke up and could talk to her himself. He laid the paper on the floor next to him and leaned forward to put his arms around his boyfriend and their dog. "I'm sorry, Ches. I tried to stop her, but she insisted it was the best thing. I should have argued with her more. It's not your fault."