Cut Ties (Paultryck Mpreg)

Part 2

"Patryck, please wake up!" Paul whispered, shaking the other man by the shoulder in an attempt to get him to do anything. "No, no! Pat, please!"

Paul adjusted his hold on the baby, who, like Patryck, was unresponsive. "Babe, I'm sorry I did this to you, please just say something!"

His chest was still weakly rising, but Paul knew it could stop at any given moment, and that terrified him.

Suddenly, the baby in his arms shuddered to life, sucking in air before letting out a high pitched cry.

"No, shhh, shhh it's okay, it's okay!" Paul bounced the baby in his arms, his body going cold with fear as he heard footsteps sprinting outside.

As much as he hated blood, he reached into his pocket, quickly severing the cord that connected the baby to Pat with his pocket knife. He stumbled to his feet just in time to face the person who had rushed to the noise, as the door to the maintenance closet burst open.

Tord was there, chest heaving with rage. Light had flooded the tiny room from the hallway, and Tord's expression melted from rage to fear.

Paul was standing over the bloodied and pale body of Patryck, while holding something that looked like an organ, shiny and wet with blood.

"Paul...what the fuck did you do?"

"He needs medical attention!" Paul blurted, speeding across the closet towards Tord with the baby, who was still whimpering in his arms. "Pat's bleeding, something's wrong!"

"Soldier, don't come anywhere near me with that until you tell me what it is!" Tord yelled, fumbling with his pistol's holster.

Paul stopped dead in his tracks, knowing that this wasn't worth dying over.

"It's-" Paul choked on his words, glancing over his shoulder to the motionless body of his boyfriend, the crimson pool around his body far bigger than the last time he had looked. Paul's breath shuddered in his chest as he looked back down at the baby in his arms.

Relationships were condemned among soldiers, pregnancies even more so. Why Pat kept it was beyond him, but since he had gone this far with the baby, Paul decided that both of them had nothing else to lose. "...It's my daughter, sir. Pat just had her."

"Your-...Pat was..." Tord was taking too much time to process, time that they didn't have.

"Sir, pardon me, but are you gonna help me or are you gonna let one of your best soldiers die because you're too stupid to understand this?" Paul hissed out his words, too many emotions filling his trembling body at once. "Use your shit to call someone, Pat needs your help!"

Tord's brow furrowed, and he reached into his jacket pocket to take out a communicator.

"This is Red Leader. Medical and surgical wing, I need assistance. Doctor Winston Quell, do you copy?"

A moment of silence, a moment of Tord staring at the silent form behind Paul.

Winston's voice cut through the static. "Loud and clear, sir. What do you need?"

"I need you to prepare for an unconscious, heavily bleeding patient and an infant. We're bringing both of them down now."

Paul rushed back to Patryck's body, pulling off his coat and wrapping it around Pat's hips to cover him. Being close to the blood showed that it was more than just that. Something else was trying to come out, and was coming out in pieces.

"Of course sir," Winston's voice came again. "What's the soldier's identification number?"

Tord stated the number, and Paul could feel his panic growing.