Chaz x Striker

Pregnant pt5

The waiting room grew heavy with silence after Stolas's words. Chaz leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, clutching the ring box in his hand as if it were the only thing holding him steady. His chest rose and fell sharply, his nerves twisting, but when the doctor appeared at the entrance of the room, everyone jumped to their feet like a spring had been released.

The doctor's voice was calm but stern, addressing Chaz directly. "He's awake now. He's stable, but he's very weak. The bleeding has stopped, and the baby's condition is still holding strong—remarkable, considering the circumstances. However, you need to be careful. No stress, no bright lights, and keep your voices down. The room should remain dim to keep him comfortable."

Chaz nodded so fast it was almost frantic. "Y-Yeah, of course, whatever he needs." His hand shook as he stood, but his determination was clear.

Blitz, Moxxie, Millie, and Stolas all looked at him, waiting. Stolas lifted one elegant clawed hand and rested it gently on Chaz's shoulder, surprising him with the sincerity in his eyes. "Go first," the owl prince said softly. "He'll want to see you before anyone else. Let us know when it's alright to come in. We'll wait."

Chaz swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "Thanks... I-I mean it." He gave them all one last glance before tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket and following the doctor down the long, quiet hallway.

The sterile lights above buzzed faintly, the linoleum floor echoing under Chaz's boots. His heart raced with each step, the anticipation mixing with fear. He thought about Striker lying in that bed—how strong he always seemed, how untouchable—but now vulnerable, hurt, and fragile. It tore Chaz apart inside.

At the door to the dimly lit room, the doctor paused and gave a final reminder. "Keep it gentle. He's in pain, but he's conscious and alert. Just... be there for him."

Chaz exhaled shakily, nodded, and pushed the door open with the slowest movement of his life.

The room smelled faintly of antiseptic. Shadows filled the corners, the only light a faint lamp near the bed. Striker lay there, pale and tired, his chest rising and falling steadily, though each breath seemed to take effort. His hat and gear were nowhere in sight; he looked smaller without them, less like the feared assassin and more like the man Chaz had fallen in love with.

Chaz froze in the doorway for a second, his eyes stinging, then finally took a hesitant step forward. "S-Striker...?" His voice cracked, soft as he approached the bed.

Striker's eyelids fluttered, and his golden eyes opened slowly, hazy but focused enough to find him. The faintest smirk tugged at his lips, though it was tired and weak. "...You look like hell, sugar," he rasped, his voice low and gravelly.

Chaz's heart clenched. He let out a trembling laugh, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "You should see yourself, cowboy. Damn near gave me a heart attack." He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of Striker's hair from his face.

Striker leaned into the touch, his breathing steadying just a little. "The baby...?"

Chaz nodded quickly, his voice soothing but urgent. "Safe. Doctor said the lil' one's fine. Snake DNA, or somethin'. You protected 'em. You protected both of you."

For a moment, Striker closed his eyes, relief softening his expression. "Good... that's good."

Chaz bit his lip, the lump in his throat almost choking him. He wanted to pull out the ring box right then, to show Striker what he had planned, but he stopped himself. Not yet. Not while Striker was this weak. Instead, he leaned closer, pressing his forehead gently against Striker's. "I'm here, Strik. Ain't goin' anywhere."