Palaye Royale One-Shots

I might be(R. L.)(Pt. 2)

After almost seven months of trying you conceded defeat and went to a fertility doctor. Something was clearly up, because it shouldn't be this difficult to get pregnant. You and Remington were sitting in the waiting room, hands held tightly. He lifted your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles. You nervously tapped your knee with the hand Remington wasn't holding. A nurse called you, the two of you followed her into a hallway and she sent you in different directions. After an exam and a long discussion, wherein you disclosed some very personal information, you were told to wait there. A doctor came in, checked over a few things and explained what they would look for and check. About ten minutes later the door opened and Remington came in. You were told they would have the results in five to seven business days and that they would call you when they had them. Anxiety was high when the two of you left.
"It's gonna be okay." Remington said quietly. Comforting himself more than you.
"How 'bout some coffee?" You suggested. He gave a weak smile and nodded.
"Sure."
Now was the waiting game.

———

   The days passed slowly. You forced yourself to ignore the fear in the back of your head. You kept yourself busy with housework and hobbies.
    The one morning you allowed yourself to sleep in Remington got up first. He pulled on a pair of track pants before leaving the bedroom. You pulled the blankets up and rolled over. You wanted more sleep, but your body didn't want to comply. You sighed and threw the blankets off. You grabbed one of Remington's t-shirts off the floor and pulled it on before shuffling out of the room. You found Remington standing in the kitchen on the phone. His eyes were downcast, his fingers tangled in his hair. He looked stressed. He looked up when you entered.
"Um, she's r-right here." His voice cracked. He offered you the phone. You took it with a shaky hand.
"Hello?"
"Miss (Y/L/N)! Let me start by saying you are in excellent health. Everything is in order. No problems." You sighed in relief as the woman on the other end spoke.
"Oh, thank god." You smiled at Remington, but he wouldn't look at you. You furrowed your brows in confusion.
"Yes. But, um, I'm afraid that Mr. Kropp has non obstructive Azoospermia."
"What-what does that mean?" As soon as the woman on the spoke again your heart dropped into your stomach.
"There is no sperm in his semen. Further testing can be done and, unlike with female infertility, the odds of it being resolved are very high. We'll need to have him come back in, do some bloodwork and see what the best solution is and how we can help. Most likely he'll be prescribed Clomid. But we'll still do a little further testing. Okay?"
"Okay. Yeah. Yes."
"Let me see when I can fit you in." The faint of clacking of computer keys could be heard. "Does Friday work?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Have a good day." The line went dead. Your hand fell limply to your side.
"Remington. . ." Without a word he brushed past you and left the kitchen. "Remmy!" You followed him down to your bedroom. He had a shirt on and was pulling his shoes on. "Baby, it's okay." He wouldn't look at you, didn't even acknowledge your presence. He finished with his shoes and left the bedroom. He left the house, grabbing his hoodie off the back of the couch as he went. "Rem!" You stood in the door and watched as he walked away. Tears slid down your cheeks and dripped off your chin. You wiped your face and closed the door. He would come back. You cried harder when you realized you were still holding his phone. You dropped onto the couch  and hugged a pillow to your chest.
   An hour later you decided to get a shower. In the hopes that it might help you feel a little better. It didn't. You cried the entire time. When you got out you called Emerson to see if Remington was there.
"Is Remington there?"
"No. Why would he be?"
"N-no reason."
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?"
"Nothing." You said quickly.
"(Y/N), don't l-" You ended the call before he could finish. Remington's phone buzzed as he received texts from Emerson, texts that went unanswered.
Two hours after that Remington came back. He had quite obviously been crying. His face was red and puffy. He walked in without a word and sat down in the chair to the left of the couch. Neither of you spoke.