we don't care [muke af]

forty six

forty six

Michael ran a hand through his hair, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to their doctor rambling on about the results. His brain hurt and his eyes hurt. To put it simple, everything really hurt.

Luke was asleep upstairs. The eighteen-year-old has gotten good at sleeping eleven hours.

"—It looks as if he was just too frail to completely get through with the pregnancy."

Mike nodded, not strong enough to answer. It didn't cross his mind that their doctor couldn't see his response. He could barely feel the space behind his eyes.

"Is Luke doing alright?"

"He's eating and sleeping, if that's what you mean." Michael picked at dirt underneath his nails, trying to remember the last time he showered. "He's just kind of upset, we both are."

"That's normal, Mr. Clifford. You're going through a loss. Have you thought about therapy?"

"Not really, no."

"If Luke doesn't bounce back soon, definitely look into it. For you, too. I know you like being the strength for Luke, but do something for yourself, too."

Michael nodded. "I will, thank you."

"I hope to hear from you both soon."

He said his goodbyes and hung up, dropping his phone to the floor. He rolls onto his back, laying on their couch with his back hunched. He pushed himself into the pillows, hiding the body-shaking cries that left his throat.

He wanted It, he wanted to have their baby. He wanted to have a family with Luke so badly. Michael swore they did everything right, he told Luke that nothing was going to go wrong. Everything always seems to go wrong.

When Luke fell pregnant, it ended up being a blessing in disguise. They got to move in together, they got engaged. What's the blessing here? They lost their child.

Michael wanted to scream and punch a hole in a wall. But, he knew he couldn't.

He got up form the couch, going to the kitchen to get another water bottle for Luke. He was making sure his baby boy was staying hydrated.

Mike headed up the stairs, wiping at his eyes and clearing his nose. He got to their bedroom, Luke peaking up from the blanket fort he surrounded himself in.

"Hi, Peach. How're you doing?" Michael's voice was quiet as he crawled behind Luke, placing the water bottle on Luke's bedside table.

"Same as thirty minutes ago," he responded, putting his head back onto his pillow.

Michael wrapped his arms around Luke's torso, pulling him up against Mike's chest. "I think I'm going back to work next week. Do you think Ashton would come cuddle you?"

"I'm a big boy."

"I know, I just don't want you to be alone and sad." Michael hasn't raised his voice above a whisper in a long time. Speaking feels wrong. They're in mourning and everything feels wrong.

Luke reached around his nightstand, pulling his phone from its charger and giving it to Michael. "My password is your birthday, send Ashton a text."

Mike typed in the numbers, looking at over fifty messages waiting for a reply. "Do you want me to reply to anyone else?"

"No, I just want to be left alone."

Mike found Ashton's name under 'pansexual hoe'. He opened up the chat, seeing a few messages lining up. "Do you want me to read you the texts Ashton sent?"

"No, just tell him it's you and ask him to come over Monday." Luke rolled over, now facing Michael. He buried his face in Michael's stomach, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Michael could feel Luke's breathing shallow once more as he began to fall asleep, all curled up.

To / pansexual hoe

Hey, Ashton. It's Michael. Luke still isn't feeling too good, and I have to get back to work on Monday. Is there a way you could come by for a bit and check on him?

Michael was about to close out of the messages, but Ashton started to type a response. Michael was sure that Ashton was waiting around his phone for a reply from Luke for days.

From / pansexual hoe

Yeah, of course! I have a evening class on Monday so it works out perfectly. Is he okay?

To / pansexual hoe

He's as okay as you'd expect.

Michael put Luke's phone down, looking at the curled up boy at his side. He put his hand in Luke's hair, brushing the strands of hair off of his forehead. Luke was warm, soft snores left his mouth.

There were purple bags underneath his eyes even though all he has done is sleep. Michael wanted him to be okay again. He wanted him to smile because he felt happy. Mike isn't sure how long that's going to take.