Chapter Text
Satoru sits on the ground of the cramped bathroom, bend over, head between his knees and hands buried in his sweaty hair. He still feels nauseous, just that the cause has changed for the time being. Next to him Suguru is quiet, as if he wasn’t really there. Satoru could feel his warmth where their legs almost brushed, yet it had never felt like this… like they were simultaneously close and miles apart.
Neither of them dared to address the three positive pregnancy tests on the sink. This was a mess, yet this could be said for a big chunk of their lives. An unplanned pregnancy in their late twenties was just the icing on the top. Best friends in high school, growing apart while studying in different places, losing contact, to meeting again when Suguru was the mandatory therapist on call at a time Satoru desperately needed one. He was also the one who convinced him to give therapy a real try after an abusive relationship that ended with killing his boyfriend in self-defense. Despite the years apart they’d recognized each other immediately. Suguru recommended him a different therapist after that unfortunate night – when no one else had been available to take over for a highly biased Getou. The young gentle soul he ended up with went by the name Haibara and actually managed to help Satoru acknowledge and overcome most of his issues.
That could have been the end of it, but instead they found themselves reconnecting, rekindling their friendship tentatively. The kids helped with it. Despite the traumatic relationship, Satoru had never blamed Toji’s children. At some point they’d even turned into the only reason for him to stay, dreading the other might turn to them if he couldn’t direct his anger towards Satoru anymore. So when he was asked to become their guardian he agreed without really thinking about it. Perhaps with his suffering mental health there should’ve been repercussions for such a rash decision, strangely though, there were none. Satoru was genuinely happy to be able to keep Tsumiki and Megumi around.
Suguru was a similar case just that his wounds weren’t dealt by a partner, but by trusting the wrong crowd during his student days and having his kindness exploited. He met Mimiko and Nanako during an internship, two young girls living in a group home, said to be trouble and without any chance of finding a home. Of course, this was actually a whole lot of bullshit and merely fault of a failing system. Too many children cared for by too little staff. Favoritism in those homes was common and so the kids that had the opportunity to thrive with care were the ones who got adopted eventually, while the others suffered with neglect. Hospitalism, Satoru still remembers from one of his psychology classes, a severe deprivation disorder that had caused the death of small children in the past. It’s fucked up that his mind went there first, especially because this isn’t an issue anymore nowadays. But he couldn’t help the running thoughts and thinking, you made the right choice taking them in, because the twins, due to being no ones favorite, could only cling to each other and try to survive in an environment that didn’t match their needs. Suguru realized this immediately, adopted them on a whim and never once regretted it.
When Satoru and Suguru spent time together, their kids tagged along, becoming fast friends. This opened the door for a rekindling friendship and feelings to develop. And so two years after meeting each other again, they sat down, considered the ups and downs and started dating. A year later they moved in together, knowing each other inside out to the point Satoru even opened up on a secret he’d never dared to address in therapy, that when he pushed Toji off, hitting his head badly on the way down, the other had still been alive. How Toji had gasped wetly, staring at him and asking for help, begging him to call an ambulance, while Satoru had simply stood there with throbbing ribs and a bruised larynx, yet strangely numb, and watched him die. Suguru gently urged him to look him deeply in the eyes afterwards and simply uttered one word, firm and soft with a little hint of righteous anger: “good.”
In this moment Satoru knew nothing would be able to tear them apart. And three years later, right here, wasn’t going to change that. Satoru swallowed carefully around another heave, trying to make itself known. He thought of their house, barely fitting four kids to begin with, thought of their jobs and how they got by fine some months, but floundered during others when things like a broken washing machine ate at their meagre savings, thought of the day they sat down together to talk about how they imagined their future going forward and came to the same conclusion.
The kids come first. Always.
The silence between them lingers, like a noose had tightened around their necks. It’s late at night, well past eleven and if allowed, they might sit here until morning when Tsumiki would get up first to do her hair or Nanako hollered for a sweet breakfast, just to find their parents in the bathroom, sitting like time stopped. So Satoru knew what they had to do and because he was always the one to utter the most ugly and vile things anyway, it was only fair to do it this time, too.
Taking a shuddering breath, he glances at the cold fluorescent light at the ceiling, immediately feeling a slight sting in his eyes. “We can’t afford a fifth child.”
Suguru slumps. “Fuck,” he hisses, a sound that was more agreement than curse. “Fuck, you are right,” he adds, hurt thick in his voice.
Satoru’s lips wobble, knowing he was the reason for the pain plaguing his partner. To keep himself from trembling, he bit down on them, hard. In the end it was no use, Suguru noticed and for the first time in what felt like hours, he crossed the not-quite-distance and pulled him into a hug. It was an awkward thing, their positions not supporting their need for closeness, but Satoru didn’t care, pressed his nose in the crook of his partner’s neck and held on just as tightly.
“I’m so freaking sorry,” he blurts out through grit teeth.
He’d been so damn careful, taking suppressants, watching his diet for anything that could interfere with its effects like alcohol and certain greens, changing the dose during his heats like his physician suggested and yet here he was, three days in with morning sickness.
“Don’t you dare make this your fault,” Suguru argues, scandalized. “It takes two for this to happen and we both know birth control can fail. If at all, it’s mine for not insisting on a condom.”
Satoru screws up his nose indignantly. “I wanna feel you, not latex,” he huffs, quite aware that he sounds like petulant brat.
Suguru chuckles into his hair, the first upbeat sound since this nightmare started and suddenly the air feels a little less suffocating.
But the ache in his chest is not so easily dispelled. It’s confusing in a way. He’s never really felt like he fit into the body of an Omega, never desired kids of his own and if offered, would’ve given up the possibility immediately. So Satoru tries to reason with the strange feeling raging inside him. Tsumiki, Megumi, Nanako and Mimiko meant the world to him. The thought of losing them makes him queasy with anxiousness. His mind must connect the situation with them, for it was impossible for a cluster of cells he never wished for to leave such an impact on him.
Swallowing the odd wave of emotion, Satoru fights to keep it there, buried somewhere at the back of his mind, where it wouldn’t be able to hurt him. He takes a deep steadying breath before uttering the next words, but his voice sounds rough and wobbly regardless. “So we terminate.”
Suguru’s hold around him tightens for a brief moment. “Yeah,” the other rasps. He tries to clear his throat quietly, but pressing so close against him, Satoru can still sense the movement under his skin. “I will look up if a therapist can work you in.”
It shouldn’t be surprising that Suguru considered the emotional repercussions their decision might induce, considering he worked on all kinds of crises on a daily basis, but Satoru draws back with a frown regardless.
“Us,” he corrects him.
Suguru’s expression smooths, becoming void of any emotion. “Satoru,” he starts, all calm and serious, “I know what we are dealing with, I can handle it.”
Satoru hates this, the way Suguru’s face goes blank and his tone emits detachment like nothing bothers him. Suguru pretends to be fine and has perfected the art of it to the point he believes his own nonsense.
“Knowing about something and experiencing it yourself are completely different,” Satoru replies, only his clenched fists giving away the turmoil rampaging inside him. “You are coming with me.”
Suguru pauses. Surprise clouds his features and trips his carefully contained equilibrium. Satoru meets his gaze fiercely, refusing to back down.
“Stop making sense, it’s creepy,” he admits at last.
Satoru ignores the remaining spark of deflection and dives right in alongside him, grasping for anything that will help him stop thinking about their predicament.
“How dare you, I’m always making sense!” he exclaims, which Suguru immediately calls into questions and off they go, bickering like today is a day like any other.
The pregnancy tests disappear in the trash, as if it would erase their existence and both of them head to bed, while Satoru buries the heaviness of his heart under bright smiles.
His physician is kind when he confirms the pregnancy and doesn’t try to sway their decision when they start discussing options. He notices how hard it is for them and assures that they can still change their mind, but schedules the appointment for the abortion at a clinic without a fuss.
The following days Satoru pretends not acknowledging what’s happening to his body will stop it from becoming real. This tactic works until he returns home one day, with the kids already back from school but Suguru still busy at the doctor’s office, to Mimiko informing him that a clinic called to reschedule his appointment tomorrow due to a case of illness. Satoru’s innards freeze at the news, but when Mimiko wonders why he has an important appointment with a doctor he recovers quickly enough to claim it’s a routine check-up.
It’s the new date that finally drives everything home. He’s having the abortion scheduled on his birthday now. While he’s supposed to celebrate with his family for reaching a new year in his life, a different life will end.
Dinner that evening is a strange affair. Satoru spends part of it aware of his surroundings and others in a strange sort of daze. Suguru manages to snap him out of it easily, but the worry etched to his brow is hard to miss. When the children on top of it ask him if he finally figured out which cake he wants for his birthday, he chokes the razor sharp despair rising in his throat back down, smiles brightly and tells them they should just surprise him.
Tsumiki and Megumi frown at each other, probably because he’s usually extremely picky when choosing just the right amount of sweetness for his birthday cake, but Satoru barely notices. Instead he wonders how he’s supposed to explain to them that what he really wants for his birthday is to lock himself into the bedroom and be left alone. In the end he deflects and keeps quiet, loosening the atmosphere with just the right amount of prodding and joking. He will deal with his birthday once it’s upon him.
The next couple of days pass in a blur, racing by and making it hard for Satoru to catch up. The sense of dread inside him is growing, but every time it rears its ugly head, trying to have him acknowledge it, Satoru pushes it down, down, down.
This is probably the reason it takes him so long to realize that their house is strangely quiet one evening. Suguru is in the kitchen, cooking dinner, but there are no trace of the kids. Satoru frowns, baffled by the unusual silence, and checks their rooms. They turn out empty, as does the living room. Considering they hadn’t mentioned heading out, he can’t help but worry. Had he been so lost in his own head he’d missed them leaving before dinner?
“Did the kids head outside?” he asks as he joins Suguru in the kitchen.
“They aren’t in their rooms?” Suguru looks up from where he was just preparing the rice cooker.
Satoru shakes his head. Immediately Suguru turns off the stove, starting his own search inside the house. So they hadn’t informed him of their whereabouts either. Unease crawls up his spine.
Just when they decided to go outside and search the neighborhood the front door was pushed open, revealing Tsumiki, Megumi, Mimiko and Nanako, all wearing similar expressions of seriousness. Satoru almost expected an adult following them inside, delving into a story about their escapades and the awful repercussions. None of it happened though, instead the door closes behind them.
“What’s going on?” Suguru is the first to ask, while Satoru is still busy to stare at them in confusion.
Megumi takes a step forward, straightens his small shoulders and meets their eyes with way more severity than someone his age should.
“This is an intervention,” he tells them. Satoru wonders where he even learned the word. Behind him three heads nod in unison.
He shares a brief glance with Suguru, but the other shrugs with the same cluelessness he feels.
“Alright. Let’s sit down and talk,” Suguru offers and together they head into the living room and sit down.
Years ago his mind might’ve been invaded with horrible scenarios, like the kids advocating for a break-up because they couldn’t stand one of them or something of similar proportions. He’s lucky that he feels secure in the life they’ve built together and thus doesn’t fear such a possibility anymore. Unfortunately this means he’s at a loss right now and this, while not scary, was at the least terribly annoying.
The kids look at each other, as if silently communicating, before Tsumiki clasps her hands like a little politician. Under different circumstances Satoru would’ve deemed it an adorable sight.
“We know Satoru is pregnant.”
He can’t help it, his mouth falls open at the reveal.
“How do you-,” Suguru starts just as perplexed.
“I saw the pregnancy tests in the trash,” Tsumiki interrupts him.
Groaning in disbelief at their carelessness, Satoru lets his head drop into his hands.
“I guess we really weren’t that subtle,” he grumbles in bewilderment.
This is a nightmare. The children weren’t supposed to know. He didn’t want to explain to them why they choose to terminate the pregnancy, doesn’t want to put that guilt onto their small shoulders. Because they will put the blame onto themselves, he’s worked with enough children to realize they often think the root of the problem lies with them, when in fact the issues are far too complex to comprehend at such a young age.
“And when we were looking for my new coat, Satoru started crying when we passed the baby section,” Nanako adds shamelessly.
Next to him a worried furrow forms on Suguru forehead. He doesn’t utter a word, but in his eyes lies the silent question if Nanako is telling the truth.
So he sighs, hoping to dispel some of the other’s concern.
“This is totally unrelated, it was a hormonal thing… mostly,” Satoru tries to explain, but can tell he fails miserably at it, so he snaps his mouth shut.
“The appointment you have on your birthday is at a clinic specialized on abortion,” Mimiko chimes in, more timidly but her words hit just as hard.
“Tsumiki googled the phone number at school,” Megumi explains when Satoru still questions how they could know.
Tsumiki, because she is one of the sweetest people he ever met, looks a little guilty for violating their privacy. They certainly did their homework before ganging up on them.
“And I guess, now you are wondering why we came to this decision?” Suguru reflects upon their words. His voice his warm, encouraging even, yet his posture had become more and more closed off the longer the children continued the report of their findings, arms folded and back seemingly frozen.
The kids nod.
Exchanging a glance, Satoru is the first to speak. “Babies are expensive. I know we manage fine most of the time, but we might not if we have the baby. We couldn’t just go out and get you a new coat when you need it,” he looks at Nanako, “or do anything fun for your birthdays. We would have to pass on a lot of things and that’s not something we want for you.”
“It’s not the only option we discussed, either,” Suguru informs them. “But we don’t think adoption would wo-“
“Why would you take us in, but give your own baby up for adoption? That’s awful!” Nanako yells as she jumps to her feet. She looks appalled and so heartbroken that it makes Satoru’s chest ache.
And as if this was all they needed, the floodgates open and the pain and confusion they must’ve carried with them over the last days pour out, barely influenced by their explanation.
“We couldn’t care less for expensive things,” Megumi protests, obviously offended this was even considered in their initial decision.
“You make us happy. We are a family because of you,” Mimiko says, voice breaking with how hard she was holding back tears. “We want you to be happy, too!”
“We don’t want you to choose between us and your baby!” Tsumiki screams, almost hysterical.
It’s what breaks Satoru out of his trance. Up until then he’d sat there, helpless as the children exclaim their fear and worries, but seeing Tsumiki like this, – his brave and steady girl who wouldn’t even cry after her mother left or her father died, – Satoru jumps into action. He pulls her into his arms and lets her cry and sob against his shoulder, Megumi following right behind her. He’d never admit it, say he simply wanted to make sure his sister is alright, but Satoru’s notices the misty shimmer in his eyes and embraces him, too. Before he knows what’s going on, Suguru is next to him, drawing in the twins and trying to soothe their pain as all of them become a big knot of entangled arms, seeking comfort in each other.
Satoru meets Suguru’s gaze briefly, his own hurt mirrored in the dark orbs and a silent agreement passes between them, to reevaluate the circumstances.
“We hear you,” Suguru whispers to them once they’ve managed to calm down, yet still cling to them desperately. “We will take the things you said into consideration and talk about it again. But we ask you to respect our choice. Believe me, it’s not easy for us either.”
The rest of the evening is painfully subdued. The children talk little, clearly haunted by the conversation and no matter how hard Satoru and Suguru try, they don’t manage to coax them out of it. In the end they declare defeat, tuck them in and sit down together. Discussing the pros and cons, but always coming back to the heart-wrenching reaction of the children.
“They might change their mind eventually,” Satoru ponders tiredly, staring at the ceiling.
“I don’t know,” Suguru replies, sitting hunched over next to him, gaze turned to the floor. “They’ve been through a lot, if someone is able to grasp the consequences of such a choice it’s them.”
Satoru hums, Getou is probably right.
“It’s going to complicate so many things, though.” He doesn’t even know who he’s trying to convince at this point. Suguru notices it as well.
“You don’t want to go through with it.”
Of course he doesn’t. He’s been feeling on edge ever since the tests came back positive and the reasonable choice was against the baby. Even now an unfamiliar emotion tries to choke him, he pushes it back down and suddenly has to blink away tears. Satoru doesn’t trust himself to speak and therefore remains silent.
Out of the corner of his eyes he spots Suguru’s blurred shape raise his head to look at him.
“You didn’t give it time to really sink in,” Getou figures.
A choked laugh escapes his tight throat.
“Oh and you did?” Satoru shoots back sarcastically. When it came to matters like this, they were scarily alike.
“Fair point.”
The following silence is heavy, but also clearer, as if the air around him suddenly became easier to breathe.
Nimble fingers slip into his hand, grasping it in a quiet sign of support. For the first time since they sat down together, Satoru dares to turn his head, meeting Suguru’s gaze. Getou’s other hand comes up to caress his face, wandering from his temple to his jaw. He exhales a shuddering breath, feeling his chest expand as the tightness around his heart lessens.
“Want me to cancel the appointment?” Suguru asks.
There are no expectations in his expression as he waits for his reply. Satoru realizes that the other places the decision entirely into his hands. He will be the one who has to carry the baby to term, who has to stand behind their choice more than anyone else. Getou and the children have made compelling arguments and there is as much reason for as there is against the baby. Thus ultimately it’s up to Gojo and Suguru will stand by him no matter what.
“Yeah,” Satoru admits. His whole body relaxes as the words leave him.
“Okay,” Suguru promises and kisses him so carefully as if it is their first.
Satoru knows he’s lucky to be loved by someone that supports him, challenges him, cares for him and puts his head back on straight if needed. His life could’ve taken so many turns, could even be over if he hadn’t decided to fight back. He has the love of his life and amazing children, there’s nothing he won’t be able to handle.
A smile spreads to his lips at the thought.
“Can you imagine what we would do without the kids?” he wonders.
Suguru chuckles. “Flounder helplessly, probably.”
His birthday this year ends up celebrating two occasions, him and the new life growing inside him.