Nis Gerpm

Chapter 5

 George shut himself into the hotel bathroom as soon as Ringo had drove them back to the hotel room they were sharing. He was still greasy from the concert, and exhausted of everything. George had swiped the black and white photos that the doctor handed to him moments before he ran out of the examining room. He retrieved them from his jacket pocket and swiftly tore them apart. Everything made him want to curl up into a ball and cry...

Why am I so worried about this? Men can't get pregnant. George was surprised about how much this stupid doctor's joke was affecting him. He fought through his sudden emotions and unclothed himself, stepping into the shower to stop feeling like grime. What am I bloody worried about? The doctor is a loone!

The warm water drizzling on his back relaxed George's mind. He took a moment to close his eyes and breathe in the warm hazy steam. Subconsciously grabbing the soap bar to scrub himself down, George made sure to cleanse every crevice. Armpits, chest, back, belly... He looked down at his water-soaked stomach, but it was hard to see anything from the mist. George found himself making quick haste to clean his thick, deep brown hair, before shutting off the tap and reaching for a towel to cover his waist. He stepped out of the tub and made his way to the mirror. It was all foggy from the shower, so he grabbed a sock and wiped the moisture from the mirror's surface until he could see his face decently. Stepping back, George eyed himself.

His flat chest tapered down to his thin waist and then to his spindly legs. Just barely, he could see his ribs. George was always a thin bloke, eating just enough and running around all day, he assumed, had kept him a constant weight.

He then turned to the side. Yes, there it was. A small, tiny lump just above his waist. Now more than ever he was convinced that it had not been there before. His belly jutted out just so.

George what are you thinking? It's just some fat, it's impossible!... He shook his head, then glanced to the discarded shreds of the pictures, before kneeling down to revisit them. Piece by piece, George managed to fit the image back together. Clear as day, he could see the little white splotch that the doctor had pointed out to him. His face began to recoil in the shock of his mind coming to term. George took the fragment of photo that the splotch resided on, and held it next to his stomach. For the first time, he knew that the doctor was right.

Ringo would hyperventilate if he spent any more time pacing outside the bathroom. He had called to George a few times, but his love didn't respond back. Whatever had happened at the doctors', it had struck George hard. And here Ringo was, outside the bathroom door, locked between an empty hotel room and the man he wanted to strangle with love. That was enough of that.

George almost fell sideways from surprise as Ringo rammed his way through the bathroom lock with a loud bang. The drummer, catching his breath, stared wide-eyed down at the man curled up on the bathroom floor.

Full of adrenaline, Ringo took one look at George's terrified face and immediately ran to embrace him. For a second time George was nearly knocked over.

"Georgie what did that f****** doctor tell you? I bloody vow to put a kink in his neck if you want me to-" Ringo fiercely rambled on. George strained to smile at his lover's adorable protectiveness towards him, but his expression seemed to be jammed on a mix of shock and dread. Ringo stopped his rant and grabbed George's shoulders, pulling him eye to eye.

"What happened?"

George took an incredible moment to gather his thoughts, before speaking in a wispy, cracked voice.

"I told t-the doc about my morning sickness and things. He checked me out and said everything seemed normal, but he felt something weird in my belly. He made me pull my shirt up and gave me a- an ultrasound..." Every ounce of George's mind was urging him to shut Ringo out and avoid ever talking to anyone again, but he knew that he had to keep going. There was no way of keeping this to himself.

"...I'm pregnant," George gasped out. He reeled back, covering his face, the words he never expected to voice sour on his mouth. Ringo's going to think I'm a loone.

Ringo snapped stiff as a board, eyes wider than an owl. It felt as if the universe had paused for a minute. Then, Ringo laughed.

"Geo, the doctor must be a loone! Men don't get pregnant!" George winced at Ringo's comment, making the nervous smile drop from the drummer's face. Ringo reached out to his thigh at once, a gesture of apology. George swung his leg away from Ringo's grasp and into his arms looking down to the damp ground.

"...It's stupid! It's so dumb! The doctor showed me a white splotch and said it was a baby! It's right here!" George shoved the piece of photo with said splotch into Ringo's startled face. "And look, look my stomach is starting to grow!" George pulled his legs back and sat up tall, arms indignant in the air, trying to get Ringo to notice the tiny lump. "So yeah, I'm bloody... pregnant." He again choked out the latter word.

Ringo's face was indescribable. He looked deathly white and was shaking slightly. George stared back, catching his breath. The drummer squinted at George's belly, admitting to himself, however small, George did have a bump there that he hadn't noticed before. With a curious expression, Ringo slowly dared to reach out and touch George's stomach. When he contacted the little lump George closed his eyes, relaxed his posture and sighed, somehow enjoying the drummer's touch enough to pull him out of his spiraling mind.

The lead guitarist's belly was warm against Ringo's hand. It was more stiff than squishy, and the Beatle felt an odd resonance in his heart. He then gently trailed his fingers around the tiny vertical mound, savouring the feel of its slight curve. George reached down to grab Ringo's hand solemnly, and the two met each other's eyes once again.

"Who's is it?" Ringo asked. George was taken aback by two things: his inquisitive tone, half expecting Ringo to still be in disbelief, and the question itself. George shivered. He hadn't thought about whose the baby was- his face grew pale just thinking the word 'baby'- but the answer was easy. George had only slept with one person over the last two months.

"You." Ringo's jaw dropped. He stared back, practically a statue. Then, like thunder, he thrusted his chest into George's with a powerful embrace. George squeezed back, wrapping his arms around Ringo's torso and holding him close. Ringo was trying to hold back tears on the guitarist's shoulder.

The couple sat there in the humid, warm hotel bathroom for a very long time, unable to think, say, or do anything more than hug each other madly.