Scp shots! (CLOSED)

Set sail pt. 3

Jfc, this is long. Still for LittleMissFishtail. (Pages 11- 21)

Enjoy the final part! (I know it isn't Monday anymore, but this is wayyy longer than expected soo :P)

This also got some inspo from that writer/ fanfiction I mentioned earlier. Translations below.

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Ice was sure he was going to puke again. The ship-turned-amusement park ride was doing cartwheels and backflips into the sea like some sort of cheerleader Jesus and he and Gears were but the skin cells upon the spinning, holy, shit-fest. The ship teetered and Ice lost his balance, tumbling hard, clipping his shoulder on the mast. All the air was knocked out of him when he finally slammed into the railing of the boat. A voice screamed out but the rain and thunder swallowed the words. Ice pulled himself up, praying he didn't hurt anything too bad, shaking. The rain had begun to cling to him, forming frost on his face, hands, and clothes. For the first time in his life since the accident, Julian felt like he could shatter into a billion pieces.

The voice screamed out again, closer now. Ice walked towards the sound, hands gripping the rails hard enough to make the veins in his hands bulge out. He could feel his clothes starting to freeze to his skin, his nose frosting to the point of numbness, his glasses forming icicles.

"CHARLES! CHARLES! CHARLES! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Ice shouted into the darkness, his voice the only thing he wasn't scared would break.

"JULIAN!" replied Gears as he came up.

Ice felt immediately safe, comforted by the warmth and steadiness of his hands. He felt those hands wrap a thick piece of rope once, twice, three times, around his middle, tying him down.

"We need to get into the pilot house!" Gears shouted, "Come on!"

"I-I can't... I'm frozen!" He could barely feel his hands, much less anything below his knees.

Gears picked him up, "Try and hold on! I lost my shoes so I might slip!"

Ice was still shaking, at this point, he couldn't stop. He couldn't feel his nose anymore. After what felt like a century, they entered the heated pilot house and breathed a unified sigh of relief.

"Jesus Christ, Julian, what were you doing outside?! You could've been killed!" Gears scolded.

Ice didn't respond, his whole face was numb, coated in painful pins-and-needles.

Gears sighed, "I'll get you some hot packs and salt, you better explain yourself when you thaw."

After a few minutes of 'heat therapy' Iceberg's layer of frost had faded and his skin was mobile.

Gears began to work on his legs and feet, "Julian, what were you thinking!?"

Ice bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating for a moment to gather his thoughts and plan what to say. He wanted Gears to know, before either of them had the chance to die.

Gears put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a terrified look. "Julian, you were near the railing... were you... trying to kill yourself?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Ice jolted, "Jesus! Fuck no, oh my god! I would never- no! No, I'm fine, I promise, I'm not trying anything like that!" he replied, holding the hand on his shoulder.

Gears' posture decompressed, slightly, "Why have you been at the edge of the boat then? I've barely seen you away from the railing since we got on! Are you sick? Do you need medicine?-"

"Charles, Charles, it's nothing like that... I- I've been sick, yes, but not because of the flu or anything." Ice started, taking a breath before his next words, "Charlie, I'm pregnant."