Fic: In the Family Way (8(a)/11)

[rusty_armour]

Title: In the Family Way (8(a)/11)
Author: Rusty Armour
Pairing: McShep, Beckett/Other
Summary: Some are born into families; others create their own.
Word Count: 3,752
Category: Slash, MPreg, AU
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Pretty much everything up to and including season three.
Disclaimer: Thou Shalt Not Steal. Even in the interest of fic. Most of these characters aren't mine. I, uh, borrowed them. Yeah.

---

I'm not going to point out the obvious and say this is coming later than it should. I also won't give you a list of excuses because I can't come up with anything good and it will just make this author's note even more boring. However, I will apologize because it helps alleviate my guilt and, really, this is all about me. Unfortunately, by making it all about me, I'm forced to take responsibility for certain flaws in this installment.

Like Rodney McKay, I'm not religious, so I know nothing about hockey. Well, that and my dad is a baseball fan, so I grew up watching the Blue Jays instead of the Maple Leafs. Luckily, my mom did watch some hockey growing up, so I'd like to thank her for giving me some pointers. Oh, and I owe her an even bigger thanks for re-watching a certain scene from Lethal Weapon 3 and providing me with a solution for a little problem I encountered during the writing process. I did do my own research, of course, but it's not the same as actually knowing the game. If any of you hockey fans out there find anything that sounds implausible or just plain stupid, please let me know.

---

"--And, then, after the drop pass drill, Coach had us do speed drills, and I had the third best time," Andrew said through a mouthful of chicken couscous.

Jeannie was looking at her son with an indulgent, if weary, expression. "Breathe, Andrew. Please."

Andrew gulped down some water. "Sure, Mom," he said. Then he launched back into his detailed description of hockey camp. "Tomorrow we're going to work on speed drills again, as well as stick handling. Coach says that if we work really hard in the morning, we can have pizza for lunch."

Rodney's head jerked up. "Really? Did he say from where?" he asked. Then his eyes flicked back to his plate when Jeannie and Andrew both glared at him. Rodney had already earned a sharp kick under the table from Carson after saying, "Okay, we get it. You love hockey camp. Can we move on now?"

Much to Carson's satisfaction, Andrew had ignored his uncle at the time. However, it now seemed as if Rodney's latest comment had succeeded in distracting Andrew, as the next words out of his mouth had nothing to do with hockey.

"Uncle Rodney, do you ever think about anything else but food?" Andrew asked.

The hand lifting a fork to Rodney's lips paused. "Yes, as a matter of fact," Rodney said. "Just this morning, I was wondering if Einstein's genius decreased at all after he had kids."

Andrew's brow creased. "Does Einstein play hockey?"

Rodney scowled. "No, of course not."

"So Einstein isn't important, then," Andrew said.

Rodney's jaw dropped. "What? Why you little--"

"Andrew," Carson said, before Rodney could finish his sentence, "did you say you have a game on Friday night?"

Andrew beamed at Carson. "Yeah. Can you come?"

Carson wasn't sure what to say. While he wanted to watch Andrew play, he knew his presence would probably make Jeannie uncomfortable. They had avoided spending any time alone together since that disastrous first date. Feeling torn, Carson looked at Jeannie, who immediately blushed.

"Oh, I'm sure Carson has other things he needs to do," Jeannie said.

"Like what?" Rodney demanded. "The laundry?" He rolled his eyes. "He's not exactly working and it's not as if he has any kind of social life -- not since your date, anyway."

"Rodney," Jeannie growled.

"So are you coming or not?" Andrew asked. He tilted his chin in such an obstinate way that he bore an alarming resemblance to his uncle.

"Uh…" Carson glanced at Jeannie again, but she refused to meet his eyes. Carson felt a sudden surge of anger. If he was going to miss Andrew's hockey game, Jeannie could at least acknowledge him and do more than offer feeble excuses. Deciding to disregard Jeannie's wishes, Carson said, "Of course, I'm coming. I wouldn't miss it for the world." He heard cutlery clatter against a plate and smiled. But, then, he saw Rodney and Andrew exchange a meaningful look and his expression changed. What had that been about?

Jeannie seemed to be wondering the same thing as she studied Andrew and Rodney through narrowed eyes. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing," Rodney and Andrew both said. However, the side of Rodney's mouth was twitching, and Andrew was trying not to giggle.

Jeannie crossed her arms. "Spill it."

Andrew rose from his chair. "Uh, I have to go do my homework," he said. Then he was racing out of the kitchen.

"It's summer!" Jeannie called after him. "You don't have any homework!"

"It's hockey camp homework!" Andrew shouted from the living room.

"Hockey camp homework? Huh." Jeannie turned to Rodney, who was also trying escape from the kitchen. Unfortunately, with his swollen belly, he couldn't get out of his chair as quickly and easily as Andrew had. "Freeze!" Jeannie said. "You're not going anywhere!"

Halfway out of his chair, Rodney gripped the edge of the table for support. "I really need to go."

Jeannie smiled at him sweetly. "Of course you do."

"No," Rodney said. "I have to go. I-I need to pee, Jeannie!"

Jeannie laughed. "Yeah. Nice try."

Rodney groaned. "I'm serious."

"So am I," Jeannie said.

"Uh, Jeannie, I'm pretty sure he is serious." Carson could see by Rodney's uncomfortable grimace that he desperately needed to relieve himself. That, taken with Rodney's complete inability to lie, and the fact that Rodney hadn't been to the washroom for at least forty-five minutes, had Carson convinced that Rodney was telling the truth.

"Oh," Jeannie said. Her mouth hung open for an instant then snapped shut. "Then what are you standing around for? Go! I don't want you peeing on my kitchen floor! I just mopped it yesterday!"

Rodney nodded and fled, though his retreat was more of a rapid waddle than a run. Jeannie watched him go with a shake of her head, while Carson leaned back in his chair and waited. It took a few seconds, but then Jeannie was jumping out of her chair and backing away from the kitchen table. Now she would make an excuse to leave as she had done every time they'd found themselves alone over the past couple of weeks.

"Uh, I have to wash my hair," Jeannie said before bolting from the kitchen.

"Oh, come on!" Carson shouted. "That's the oldest excuse in the book!"


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


Carson would never admit it to anyone, least of all Andrew, but one of his favourite things about hockey was watching the Zamboni glide slowly around the rink. There was a certain hulking grace about it that he found strangely fascinating. Tonight, it helped distract him from the awkward silence that had lapsed between him and Jeannie. And, as far as distractions went, it was definitely preferable to the freckled kid who was sitting beside him, crunching ketchup chips loudly and licking the red powder off his fingers. Fortunately, the kid finished off his bag of chips by the time the players hit the ice.

After being exposed to NHL hockey, and watching several of Andrew's games and practices, Carson had learned a lot about hockey without really trying. He didn't have to count the pint-sized players to know that there were twelve of them on the ice. He certainly wouldn't have known that each side consisted of a goalie, two defencemen, and three forwards before he'd arrived in Scarborough. Carson scanned the rink eagerly, searching for Andrew, but he didn't think he could see the boy.

"He's still on the bench," Jeannie said. "He'll probably play in the second period." She craned her neck and gazed down at the players benches below, though Carson doubted that she would be able to spot Andrew considering that the boys on each team were wearing helmets and identical jerseys.

Carson found himself leaning forward in his seat during the face-off, even though Andrew wasn't playing. When the referee dropped the puck, there was a loud thwack of hockey sticks and a colourful streak of jerseys as the players scattered over the ice.

The green team took control of the puck before the blue team could steal it. The blue team stopped the green team from scoring, but sent the puck out of bounds. After a second face-off, the blue team claimed the puck, and, by the end of the first period, each team had scored a goal.

In the second period, the blue team intercepted the puck from the green team. The blue team attempted a breaking pass, almost reaching the green team's net, when both the green team’s defencemen converged on the puck, sending it flying back into the neutral zone. Andrew reached the puck first and passed it to the blue team's centre. The green team immediately moved to block him, but the centre shot the puck past him and into the net. Jeannie squealed and clutched Carson's arm, thrilled by Andrew's assist. Carson was excited himself, especially when Jeannie's hand lingered on his arm for several seconds.

Carson was still thinking about Jeannie's hand when the face-off began, but it was quickly forgotten when the puck shot across the centre line and into the blue team's defensive zone. The green team’s centre made a breakaway for the goal, but his stick crossed the goal crease, so the goal was disallowed. After a face-off in the neutral zone, the puck darted behind the blue team's goal. The green team made it to the puck first and tried to shoot it into the goal, but one of blue team's defencemen blocked it.

The puck flew towards the boards on the left side of the rink. Andrew and the green team's left wing were closest to the boards and they both went for the puck.

Jeannie grabbed Carson's arm again, but this time her nails bit into the skin. The left wing had accidentally hit Andrew with his stick as he made a slap shot, knocking Andrew's feet out from under him and flipping him backwards on to the ice. Jeannie was out of her seat in seconds and heading for the aisle.

Although Carson had left his seat almost as quickly as Jeannie, he was only about halfway down the stairs when Jeannie started squeezing her way past the people sitting in the row behind the players benches. Then she was pushing between two players as she climbed over the bench and pushed through the gate. Carson hurried after her, stepping on one man's foot and tripping over an old lady's purse.

While Carson had no trouble reaching the gate from the players bench, he almost landed face first when he stepped on to the ice. He clutched the gate tightly as he fought to maintain his balance, watching Jeannie as she skidded across the ice. Taking a deep breath, Carson let go of the gate and followed Jeannie at a slower, more clumsy, pace. He couldn't see Andrew because he was surrounded by a knot of players, the referee, and the coach.

"Don't move him," Carson said, pitching his voice so he could be heard above the din on the ice. "Jeannie, make sure they don't move him. He might have a spinal injury."

Jeannie raised a hand to indicate that she'd heard Carson, but she didn't slow down. She had almost made it to her son and nothing was going to stop her now.

When Carson reached Andrew, he could see the boy was unconscious. Jeannie was kneeling over him, speaking to him in a low voice. Andrew wasn't responding at all. Carson landed on the ice with a thud and tugged Jeannie away gently so he could get a better look at Andrew.

"Has anyone called an ambulance?" Carson asked the coach when the man squatted down beside him.

The coach nodded, his eyes fixed on Andrew. "The paramedics should be here in a couple of minutes."

"Good. Thank you." Carson placed a hand on Jeannie's shoulder. "Just a couple more minutes, luv. Just hold on for a couple more minutes."

Jeannie started stroking Andrew's cheek. "What's wrong with him? Does he have a concussion?"

"Aye," Carson said. "I'm pretty sure he does."

Jeannie froze, her hand trembling slightly. "You said we shouldn't move him in case he has a spinal injury. Do you think he does?"

Carson was about to tell Jeannie that the decision not to move Andrew had just been a precaution when the paramedics arrived, sliding across the ice with a backboard. Carson explained to them that he was a doctor and described the symptoms he'd found during his brief examination. Then he cradled Andrew's head carefully as the paramedics placed him on the backboard. Andrew moaned as the paramedics lifted the backboard off the ice, and Carson grabbed Jeannie's arm when she tried to go to her son.

"Give them room to work," Carson said.

"He's in pain," Jeannie snapped.

"Yes, but that means he's returning to consciousness, which is a good thing." Carson said. He stood, drawing Jeannie to her feet as well.

Jeannie lifted her chin, giving Carson a look of pure defiance. "I'm riding in the ambulance with him."

Carson smiled at the gesture. He thought this was a good thing too. "I'll follow in your car and meet you at the hospital."

Jeannie's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes, Jeannie, I do." Carson tugged on her arm and they began to move slowly across the ice. Then they both heard a sound that made them turn abruptly. The player who had injured Andrew was trying not to cry and failing miserably. His face was scrunched up and his chest was heaving. The coach had one arm wrapped around the boy's shoulder and was trying to comfort him.

"You go in the ambulance with Andrew," Jeannie said.

Carson's mouth fell open. "But, Jeannie--"

Jeannie walked over to the guilt-ridden boy and pulled him into her arms. "It's okay," she said. "It was an accident. It's not your fault." She rubbed the boy's back through his jersey and held him as he sobbed.

As Carson stared at Jeannie in amazement, he came to a startling realization. He was no longer just attracted to Jeannie: he had fallen in love.


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


Carson wasn't sure if Jeannie was in a state of shock, or if she was just trying to be stoic, but he wished she would open up to him. At this point, he would happily accept a fit of hysterics if it meant she would stop staring at the wall, muttering the same mantra over and over again. She was really starting to creep him out and, judging by the nervous glances from some of the other people in the waiting room, he wasn't the only one.

Carson touched Jeannie's arm lightly, waiting patiently as she slowly swivelled her head towards him. "Why don't you go for a wee walk?" he asked. "I'm sure you'd like to stretch your legs, maybe get a coffee."

"No," Jeannie said. "They might call us."

Carson sighed in frustration. "Jeannie, you know I'd come and get you if that happened. Now, why don't you take a break?"

Jeannie crossed her arms, fixing her gaze back on the wall. "You can go if you want to."

Carson considered refusing, but then decided it might be better to give Jeannie some space. "Can I get you anything while I'm gone?" he asked.

Jeannie shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

"I very much doubt that," Carson mumbled. He reached for his cell phone as he walked out of the waiting room. Once he'd found an area where cell phone use was permitted, he dialled Jeannie's home number. Rodney picked up on the first ring.

"How is he?" Rodney immediately asked. "Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing yet," Carson said. "Andrew's doctor is waiting for the x-ray results."

Rodney's sigh was loud enough to be heard through the phone. "It's been what? Three hours? Shouldn't they know something by now?"

Carson couldn't help rolling his eyes. "These things take time, Rodney. You've had a concussion before. You of all people should know that."

"Yes, yes, I'm a human pincushion as far as you're concerned," Rodney grumbled, but there was no real malice in his voice. "How's Jeannie holding up?"

Carson wasn't sure how to answer that question, so, in the end, he just went with the truth. "I'm not sure. She isn't talking much and she keeps staring at the wall."

"Huh," Rodney said. "Well, maybe she's still processing the information, though, knowing Jeannie, I wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to bottle it all up inside."

Carson nodded wearily to himself. That certainly sounded like Jeannie. "Rodney, I'm worried about her. I think she might be having some kind of breakdown."

Rodney snorted. "Trust me. If she were having some kind of breakdown, you'd know it."

Carson took a deep breath. "When Jeannie does talk, she keeps saying the same thing over and over again: 'He'll never play hockey again. He'll never play hockey again'." Carson flexed his fingers, as they were gripping the phone too tightly. "When the accident first happened, I told Jeannie that Andrew shouldn't be moved in case he had a spinal injury. I was pretty sure he didn't, but I couldn't afford to take any chances in case he did. What if Jeannie thinks--?"

"Carson," Rodney said, interrupting him, "I think you'll find that 'He'll never play hockey again' actually means 'He'll never be allowed to play hockey again'."

"Oh." Carson hadn't thought of that. "Do you really think so?" he asked.

Rodney made a noise on his end of the phone that sounded remarkably like a laugh. "Well, I know that's what I'd be thinking if it were my kid. Of course, I would never allow my kid near a hockey rink in the first place, but--"

"Thanks, Rodney," Carson said, before his friend could launch into a rant. "I'll let you know when we hear anything." He ended the call and went off in search of coffee. He brought a cup back for Jeannie, even though she'd said she didn't want anything. She accepted it wordlessly, gripping it in both hands. Carson took a sip of his own coffee, studying Jeannie thoughtfully. Then, he opened his mouth and, to his great surprise, found himself telling Jeannie about Scotland and his past.

Carson didn't know why he suddenly felt compelled to bare his soul. As Jeannie wasn't looking at him, Carson couldn't even be sure if she was listening. However, after a few minutes, Jeannie's eyes shifted from the wall to Carson's face and she said, "Your family sounds really nice."

That was all Carson needed. He kept talking. He was just about to launch into a story about his first day at primary school, when Jeannie's name was called. Jeannie rushed from the waiting room, still clutching her coffee.

Dr. Starling ushered Jeannie and Carson into his office. He offered Jeannie a chair, but she shook her head and remained standing, looking worried and tense. Dr. Starling took pity on her and delivered his diagnosis quickly. "Andrew has a mild concussion, but he's going to be fine. The x-rays we took were all normal, there were no problems when we palpitated the back of his neck, and Andrew didn't experience any pain or tenderness when we moved his head and neck."

Jeannie's shoulders slumped visibly in relief and Carson patted her back.

"I would like to keep Andrew here overnight," Dr. Starling said. "He was experiencing some dizziness and nausea earlier and he seemed a little confused when I was asking him questions." He smiled reassuringly at Jeannie. "This isn't unusual for someone who has sustained a concussion, but I'd like to continue to monitor his condition just to be on the safe side."

Jeannie nodded sharply. "Sure. Okay. Can I see him?"

Dr. Starling smiled again. "Of course." He led them out of his office, giving them directions to Andrew's room. After one wrong turn and a quick elevator ride, they found the right floor.

Andrew was sharing a room with a little girl who had curly red hair. Her left leg was in a cast and she was gazing at her parents blearily, as if she'd just woken up from surgery. Andrew, on the other hand, was alert and wide awake. He pushed himself up on one elbow as soon as he spotted Jeannie.

"Mommy," he said, and Jeannie was at his side in an instant.

"It's okay, baby. You're going to be fine." Jeannie smoothed back Andrew's hair and kissed him on the forehead.

Andrew's bottom lip trembled and his dark eyes filled with tears. "I wanna go home. Can I go home now?"

Jeannie bit her lip and looked like she might cry herself. "Soon, sweetie. We'll take you home soon." She brushed away the tears that had started streaming down Andrew's face, kissing him again.

"My head hurts and the doctor keeps asking me stupid questions," Andrew said.

Carson laid a hand on Andrew's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You hit your head pretty hard, so the doctor needed to ask you some questions to make sure your brain was still working the way it should -- and it is. You obviously have a very hard head." Andrew managed a slight smile, and Carson ruffled his hair. "Dr. Starling will make sure one of the nurses gives you some medicine to make your head feel better, but the best thing you can do right now is go to sleep."

Fresh tears rolled down Andrew's cheeks. "No, I don't want to. I hate it here."

Jeannie reached through the bed's railing and took her son's hand. "It's only going to be for a bit longer, Andrew. I'll get you a present from the gift shop and you can have as much ice cream as you want when you get home."

Andrew sniffed loudly. "Can I have ice cream now?"

Jeannie laughed. "No, but you can have some juice," she said. "Would you like me to read to you? It might help you fall asleep." Andrew nodded then whimpered when it made his head hurt even more. Jeannie winced in sympathy, running a hand over Andrew's brow. "Do you want me to read your favourite?"

"Yeah." Andrew closed his eyes and sank back against his pillows.

Jeannie glanced around the room, as if searching for something. Then her eyes came to rest on the father sitting on the other side of the room, or, rather, the newspaper lying open on his lap.

"Excuse me," Jeannie said. "Are you finished with the sports section?"


~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~


Next Part
Previous Part

Comments

[windrose.livejournal.com]

The game doesn't sound implausible, but it does sound like it was written by someone who doesn't have a feel for the game.

Honestly? I think the problem is a technical one. You've got the correct terminology for the most part, but it doesn't have the right flow, if that makes sense. There are ways to fix this. The simplest would be to take a step back and not try so hard. Your POV character doesn't know the game well at all, so you have an excuse NOT to know the right terms, but to focus instead on the pure physicality of it: the quick pace, how hard it is to keep track of the puck, the sound of skates on the ice, etc.

Jeannie's reaction to Andrew getting injured was perfect, btw. God knows, it's scary enough seeing a player get injured when you're just a fan; being that players parent would be much, much worse.

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the feedback about the hockey game. I think you've hit the proverbial nail on the head. I've never been happy with the way it sounds -- mostly because I get lost every time I read it. I think I was trying too hard to get the terminology right and lost focus of the POV. Maybe once I've got some distance from this installment, I'll do a re-write. Right now I'm too close to it to be objective.

I'm glad that Jeannie's reaction to Andrew getting injured seems realistic. That was actually more of a concern to me than the way the game played out.

[windrose.livejournal.com]

Maybe once I've got some distance from this installment, I'll do a re-write. Right now I'm too close to it to be objective.

God, do I ever know how that feels! There are times when you just have to take a step back and get your literary equilibrium back.

Let me know when you're ready to take another pass at it. I'd be more than happy to help beta. :)

I'm glad that Jeannie's reaction to Andrew getting injured seems realistic. That was actually more of a concern to me than the way the game played out.

Of course, it's the meat of the scene. And it works. The rest is just setup.

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

Maybe once I've got some distance from this installment, I'll do a re-write. Right now I'm too close to it to be objective.

God, do I ever know how that feels! There are times when you just have to take a step back and get your literary equilibrium back.

Yeah, this is definitely one of those times! If I tried to read through this installment again right now, I'd probably burst into tears. *g*

Let me know when you're ready to take another pass at it. I'd be more than happy to help beta. :)

That would be awesome! I may very well take you up on your offer! :-)

[lavvyan.livejournal.com]

Oh, another installment, that's so great! :D

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

I'm happy to hear that's good news! Thanks for reading! :-)

[in-joke-taken.livejournal.com]

I made my way here from parts unknown, and I'm so glad that I did because this is awesome.

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

Well, thank you very much, in_joke_taken! I'm so happy you managed to make it here from parts unknown! :-) I appreciate you taking the time to read and review. I hope you'll enjoy the remaining parts.

[njc2007.livejournal.com]

Happy, I am. To read must wait until at home I am. Sacrifice, that is.

Sorry, I've been corresponding with someone who seems to be channelling Yoda. I think it is contagious.

[rusty-armour.livejournal.com]

Understand do I. *g*