A/N: sorry for the wait, lost my groove for a moment and had to get back to it. i apologize in advance for the drama. he's a very emotional pregnant man mkay? ಥ⌣ಥ

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"Well, as you can see, he's pregnant." Dad and I gave Dr. Bluewater the same look. "I know that's a bit redundant but to be honest, with all the weird stuff surrounding your hospital visit, who's to say that they were even doing things correctly?"

"I guess so..."

"That being said, I think the most concerning part is actually how far along you really are."

"And... how pregnant am I?" I asked, trying not to vomit as I sat upright on the table.

I was getting nauseous and put my hand on Dad's shoulder to try and ease the wave.

"You were in your first trimester."

"Were?" me and Dad both say.

"Yes. You're in your second trimester now and growing strong, I see." We both gave him glares as he cleared his throat. "Sorry... just... trying to lighten the mood a little."

"Your jokes suck and all you're doing is making it uncomfortable for all of us." I growled.

"Max." Dad said.

"What? I'm sitting here with a fucking beachball attached to my torso that isn't holding something as nice (or as light) as air and he wants to be fucking <u>Eddie Murphy: Raw</u> over here."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bluewater, he can get a little emotional at times..."

"It's perfectly alright." He said, adjusting his glasses, prompting Dad to do the same thing subconsciously. "He has the same overload of hormones as a woman who was pregnant would. This isn't exactly a normal situation and I should have taken in your son's feelings about the issue." Dr. Bluewater turned to me. "As we can see, the baby seems to not grow exactly the same way a regular gestation would. I could get a better judgement on it if I had sonography equipment to look at the baby. I got the information from your blood, which there is a weird... thing there."

"Yes, the hospital noticed that too and made that part of their reasons why they didn't want to treat Max."

"Instead of, you know, looking further into it like you're supposed to." I said.

"The medical staff of Grand Marquis is a unique one, I will give you that..." Dr. Bluewater said as he looked over his little notebook. "Anyway, I got the information from your blood regarding the pregnancy. To be honest, I'm kind of guessing at the second trimester part. I believe it would make sense for it to grow at the start of another trimester than at random. I mean, it hasn't done anything since you got back to Earth, right?"

"Well... when I got back it wasn't as big as when you met me. It had been a little smaller but definitely there. It kind of inched out little by little but nothing too bad. I mean, it didn't change my whole physique overnight."

"May I?" he said, holding out his hand.

I was a little afraid and grabbed Dad's arm subconsciously. Dad squeezed my hand.

"Do you have to?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, I do. I need to see if I can feel the baby until I can figure out a way to see it. I'm not licensed in sonography... and no one would let me borrow theirs."

I hold onto Dad's arm tighter but nod. Dr. Bluewater scoots his chair closer to me and then places his hand on my exponentially exposed and rotund stomach. I looked pregnant before but now I look like I'm on the last trimester of a very large baby... or twins... not sure. The thing grew literally overnight. When I went to sleep it was normal and then I woke up and found it hard to sit up and found a mound of flesh looking at me. I was still having fever spikes and nausea that rivaled the bouts I had before.

But this, feeling someone touch my bare stomach -someone I don't know for that matter- I felt like I was about to just die. I put my face in Dad's shoulder as I used myself as a tourniquet to him. I felt Dr. Bluewater's hands in unhappy detail as they trailed my flesh and pushed in certain places, stopping short when it hit the 'outline' of the child inside of me.

"Can you hurry up, David? You're scaring my son." Dad growled angrily.

"I really am trying to hurry. I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, Max."

"It's okay." I said, my voice going really high because it really isn't. "You have to do what you have to do... I'll do what I can to help..."

What seemed like forever and a day finally ended as Dr. Bluewater's hands left my stomach. I didn't realize I was shaking until I pulled away from Dad and tried to look at the doctor. He was looking at me with a caring expression.

"I'm sorry, Max."

"It's really okay..." I said even though he knew I looked like it wasn't.

I knew he had to do what he had to do, it's just no one's really touched my stomach or anything. Even my parents haven't and I'd honestly prefer it that way. It was uncomfortable and just made me hyper aware of what's happening to me.

"Well, the baby seems pretty large, but as I said, it will be hard without an ultrasound machine to really tell. I can recommend you to someone but they're out of town."

"We're willing to travel wherever if they are willing to help."

"If that's the case, I'll give them a call and see if they will let us use the machine. In the meantime, it would be best if you rested in bed. This sudden growth will most likely have the body in catch up mode for a moment until it gets used to your bigger stomach and much more active companion."

I looked at Dad. "D-do you really think it's going to move?"

"We should hope so." Dr. Bluewater said. "If it doesn't, we've got a whole different type of situation on our hands."

I felt another wave of nausea hit me and I squeezed Dad's arm to try and keep it at bay.

"Dr. Bluewater?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you'd be able to get me something to stop the vomiting? Or at least control it a little?"

"I can try to call a prescription in for you. I don't see why they won't let you get some medicine for that. If they're being stupid about it, I'll get it and bring it to you myself."

I nodded and Dad helped me down from the table. I tried to steady myself and balance with this added weight and awkwardness. We walked slowly to the car and Dad helped me get into the front seat.

**************************

As we drove home, the car ride was making me sick and I was also thinking about Dad. I made a fool of myself doing what I did... if he had wanted to run away from it all, I should have let him. He's having to deal with something like me because I'm forcing him to. I know he says he doesn't mind, but I'm not an idiot. There's only so much you can take...

"What's wrong, Max?" Dad says softly, breaking the silence.

"Nothing."

"You're crying. I can hear you sniffling."

"It's just hormones and stuff, no big deal."

Dad sighs and it's as if I can hear what he's really saying all in that sigh: "God, Max, I wish you would stop being such a little bitch about everything and stop making me have to take care of you. I try to understand you but all you do is make me beg and then tell me how incompetent of a father I am and so easily replicated. I wish you had never come back home..." I mean... I don't think that's really going through his mind but if it isn't then it should...

"Max, please talk to me."

"You'll just get mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because it's the same thing... it's just... it's just the same thing that keeps happening. I know I'm annoying and I keep repeating that I'm sorry and all that but... but..."

Dad sighs again and I just keep staring out the window.

"It's becoming pretty clear that no matter how many times we think we're going to resolve this rift, we can't seem to make the bridge stay over turbulent waters. I don't know why that is, but I think we need to come to the conclusion that we can't mend this rift as quickly as we thought."

I hiccup on accident, feeling my heart crumbling to pieces. He's giving up on me... I knew it... I knew eventually it would be too much for my parents to handle... He's giving up on me... I tried to keep myself together but the pain of his emotionless explanation just...

"Max... Max... Are you listening to me?" I nodded. "Whatever is holding us back from mending this rift between us is only getting bigger if we don't try. One little thing and it's just like someone sawed off one side of a swing bridge. We're hanging on but barely... "

"Then what do you suggest?" I said thickly.

"We haven't been completely honest with one another. There is something we're hiding from each other. Nothing exactly bad, but a deep rooted feeling that we haven't been able to pull up-"

"Stop the car."

"Huh?"

"Stop the car."

Dad pulls over to the side of the road and I open the door, waddling a little ways into the grass and then vomit onto the ground. I throw up a few more times before I feel a little better. I wipe my mouth and head back to the car. As I sit, I start to shiver, a cold spell coming over me. I feel someone touch my forehead a little.

"You've got a fever again..."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."

"I'm sorry I'm not a good son."

"What do you mean?"

"I just want you to be happy that I'm your son..." I say, feeling my mental faculties dizzying and trying to grasp for straws. "I know you still hate me for everything I said and did before the aliens took me. I annoy you... You hate that I keep apologizing, you hate that I'm your son and you wish I was gone. You hate me more because I can't get past the past and still see you as you were when you were yelling at me... I'm exhausting in the worst way and you don't want to admit it to Mom but, you're completely disgusted by me. You force yourself to stay with me because of Mom, not because you want to."

I don't know why all of this is spilling out of my mouth and out into the open. I guess maybe because I can't think straight, the fever encompassing my thoughts and making my filter not work. To be honest, I didn't think I was still feeling this way about my Dad. I thought when we had that really nice heart-to-heart that we had gotten over everything but... I guess not...

Dad didn't say anything and I felt myself begin to panic. What exactly did the silence mean? Was he trying to find a way to tell me the truth? Have I hurt him even more than I have been?

"Say something..." I said, as if I had the right to ask him.

"What is there to say, Max?" he said softly. "It seems that no matter what I do to try and help, I end up causing a problem... so... I don't know what to say that will make you feel any better."

That's... not what I wanted to hear. I turned back to the window and leaned against it, starting to cry. Even if I was making no sense, what I just told him will probably make him hate me if he didn't already.

*********************

I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes, I was in my bedroom. This rush of panic came over me and I looked around, bewildered.

"Dad?" I said to the darkness.

There was no answer, of course. I tried to sit up but it was extremely difficult now with the way the baby was growing. I had a large shirt on that covered my stomach in a natural way but I had an excruciating headache and yet I felt lightheaded at the same time. Whatever this rapid pregnancy growth was doing to my body was something to be reckoned with. I finally got to where I could sit up properly and I put my feet on the floor. I stood up, gaining my balance back, and walked to the door. I opened it a crack and started to shuffle down the hallway to the stairs.

"I don't know what to do, Geneva. Every time I think we're alright, I find out that there's still something he's hiding from me. Some harbored secret feeling that makes me feel like I'm inadequate as a father all over again. He told me that he believes I only care about him because I don't want to tell you otherwise. I mean, can you believe how horribly he thinks of me?"

I stopped at the end of the hallway, just listening.

"Why is it that every time something happens with Max, you act out like you're the child?"

"What are you talking about?" Dad growled.

"I don't know exactly what deep rooted feelings he still harbors, but it's clear to me why he keeps thinking you hate him. When things are fine and great, so are you, but when these horrible things that happened to him resurfaces, you get bitter and mean."

"Because all the horrible things that happen to him feature me pretty prominently and pretty villainesque."

"This right here is what I'm talking about. When the most traumatic parts of Max's issues come up, you somehow make them all about you and then you blow up in his face! No wonder he thinks you secretly hate him! It's because when he has these horrible dreams and nightmares or anything of the sort, he confides in us -in you- to help him make him feel better, but all you do is get angry. All you do is replay that horrible night!"

It's suddenly silent and I creep a little closer to the balcony to see what's going on.

"I'm sorry..." Mom said. "Bruns, honey, I'm sorry..."

I get to the landing and find my mom with her arm around Dad's shoulders as he stares at the other end of the room with a harsh glare. I lean on the railing.

"Baby, I'm sorry..." Mom says again. "I know how traumatic thinking about that night is for you as well... I shouldn't have brought it up. In all fairness, though, this is the same thing Max feels every time you get angry. Think about it, Brunswick: he has problems almost every time after you lash out. Don't you think that when you get this way he has the same problem you do? Don't you think he is traumatized even more about that night? You both said horrible things to each other and in a horrible twist of karma, you both ate your own words. You've both had to think about everything you said and the consequences you endured. For you, the nightmare ended; Max came home. For him... for him the nightmare is ongoing and never stops. It just gets worse. The more oddities happen to him, the more confused and frightened he becomes and not just about himself, but about us and how we feel but especially you. He knows he wronged you and he feels like he just keeps wronging you. Why do you think he keeps saying he's sorry?" Mom got up, still touching Dad's shoulder. "I can tell you all the mysteries of the world and you wouldn't budge." She growled.

She went to leave but he grabbed her hand. "I don't know what I can truly do for him. I mess up every time... Why can't I get this right, Geneva?" he asked and it almost hurt how lost he sounded.

He sounded just as confused and scared as I was. Knowing that I made him doubt his abilities as a father just... I keep hurting him. I keep making him feel like he's inadequate when he's the best dad in the world. When we had our fight, it was because he was doing just that: being my dad. I was the rebellious idiot who wanted a snack right then and there. I initiated the thoughtless words and made him so angry that he said thoughtless words of his own... He did nothing wrong and yet... and yet I keep making him feel that way. He thinks he's an inadequate father? Puh, how about me not being an adequate son. I can't even come back home a man...

I stand up straight and head back to my room feeling flushed and cold.

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I watch as my dad holds the doorknob in his hand. He is listening to my mother as she holds onto his shirt, begging for him not to go. He doesn't say anything and when she gets done, he kisses Mom on the forehead and touches her face lovingly. He turns to me, a fire of hatred and disdain smoldering there.

"You made me believe all this time that it was me not being able to do things right when it was you all along. Look at you, you disgusting fat pregnant sow. You're not a man anymore. I don't know what you are, but it's definitely not my son. The next time you want to talk like a hard ass, please don't hesitate to fulfill your promises. It's the least you can do for being a little punk ass bitch. "

He turned the knob and started to leave.

"Dad, wait! I never wanted you to leave! Dad! Dad! PAPA! PAPA, I'M SORRY!!! Please! Please, don't leave me like this! I'm sorry! I never meant to come back like this! I just wanted you to understand! Please! PLEASE COME BACK!"

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"Papa... Papa, I'm sorry..."

"It's alright." Someone said softly as I felt something touch my face. "Your father had to go to work..."

"Mom?"

"Hey, baby. Your father is going to get your prescription when he drives by the pharmacy. "

"How did... how did I end up here?"

"Brunswick drove you home."

"No, I mean, here, in this bed."

"Oh, well, your father carried you up here like he has the past couple of times you've fallen asleep on the couch. He's getting pretty proficient at it..."

"I make Dad hate me."

"Brunswick could never hate you, Max. Your father is just... complicated. He believes that every effort he has pushed forth is all for naught. You somehow end up still distancing yourself from us. As I told you the first time, this is something you and he have to work out in order to get over this hurdle. Obviously, there's more to your fear than what would be normal."

"But I don't know what it is and that's why Dad is starting to hate me. He keeps trying and all I do is mess it up."

Mom chuckles a little. "Jeez, it's like déjà vu between you and your father. If someone tried to doubt you were his, they would be sorely mistaken."

I frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't worry about that... Like I told your father, it's up to you and him on how you get through this. I can only give you suggestions and stand by."

"I just don't understand why he would want to even try."

"I told you, it's because he loves you just as much as I do, maybe more. You haven't questioned my credibility to love you ever since I told you what I did. It's not different with your father, except he can't exactly express what he wants."

"But you're very genuine and I can see it in your eyes when you say things. With Dad... I always avert my eyes away from him so I can't tell because... because I'm afraid of what I might see. I'm afraid I'll see something different than what he's saying..."

Mom dabbed the wet cloth to my face gently and then brushed my hair back behind my ears.

"Then you're going to have to trust your father. I know those horrible aliens have done many things to you starring your dad, but the man here with us is nothing like the man those aliens replicated. I think the sad part about it is that deep down, it seems like you believe what these aliens have presented to you is true."

I looked away from her and could see that what she said was true. My mind has been tricked so much that I can't even tell the difference between the two anymore. But why? Why make it their goal to keep my head in a constant confused state? I felt mom's hand on my head.

"You're running a high fever. I'll be right back, sweetie."

I stared at the ceiling in a haze, feeling my eyelids droop.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Max! Max, come back here! Max!"

I just ran to my room and slammed the door, jumping into the bed. I hope Mom didn't tell Dad what happened. He'd be so disappointed in me. I cried myself to sleep when I felt a warm hand on my back. I opened my eyes and looked behind me, seeing my dad looking at me with a soft expression.

"Your mother said you looked like you had a fight at school."

"So."

"Let me see..."

"No!" I said, putting my face back in the pillow.

"Why not?" I heard him say with a laugh.

"Cuz you'll be mad at me."

"For what?"

"Cuz... cuz I lost..."

"Hmm... Well, did you start it?"

"No."

"But did you finish it?"

"No... he knocked me down and punched my face."

Dad finally moved me and got me to look at him as he looked at me. He touched my swollen eye gently and smiled.

"Got a nice shiner there, son. What was the fight about exactly?"

"I told a kid not to pick on a girl. She was just making her own sand castle and he stepped on it. Then she made it again and he stepped on it again! She started crying and so I told him to stop..."

"Well then, I think you won the fight. It's better to be kind that to be mean. I'm not mad."

"I didn't mean you'd be mad about the fight..."

"Then what would I be mad at?"

"Because I cried..."

Dad pulled me into his lap and I put my head on his chest.

"Not a chance... I could never be mad at you, Max. Even if the world was against you, I'd be there... unless you actually did something."

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"PAPA!" I screamed, a wave of heat overtaking me as I felt my body hug the mattress, the sweat practically keeping me glued down.

I breathed heavily, the room so hot...

"I'm right here, Max..."

I turned heavily, seeing Dad vaguely there beside me. I smiled in my delirium.

"Dad..."

"I think you and I need to have a little talk."