Nathaniel adjusted his glasses, his tone sharpening into something brisk and precise, as though facts could anchor what emotion could not.
"You'll start on antiemetics today…"
He said, writing quickly on the pad.
"Ondansetron orally disintegrating tablets. One every eight hours, dissolved under the tongue. If you can't keep even that down, we'll move to IV administration. For hydration, I want electrolyte-rich fluids—not just water. Pedialyte, sports drinks, broth. Sip them, don't gulp. Your stomach won't tolerate volume right now."
Yu's throat worked as though even swallowing air might betray him.
"You'll eat small meals, six to eight times a day…"
Nathaniel continued.
"Dry crackers or toast in the morning before you even rise. Gentle starches — rice, oatmeal, potatoes. Avoid grease, avoid strong odors. Ginger or peppermint tea may help. Absolutely no alcohol, no caffeine, no raw foods. And most importantly…"
His gaze softened but didn't waver.
"You must listen to your body. If you vomit more than four times in an hour, if you can't keep fluids down for twelve consecutive hours, or if you notice blood in your vomit, you return to the hospital immediately. Do not wait."
The nurse slid the written plan and prescription sheet into Yu's hands, but the papers trembled, blurred. He stared at them as though they were written in a language he didn't know. Rules. Medications. Warning signs. The list lengthened, crushing him under its precision.
Adrian nodded firmly, his voice cutting through.
"We'll follow everything. Every step. I'll watch him."
Yu heard it, the vow, but the sound rattled against the storm inside him.
'Hospitalization. Life-threatening. My body is too weak. I can't do this. I can't…'
His vision blurred, not from dehydration but from tears he fought to keep hidden. He folded the papers against his chest, clutching them like a shield, his breath coming too shallow.
Images surged in fragments:
Taro and Kenji's tiny fists clutching at his Yukio body. The second pregnancy—the unbearable strain, the twist and turns and then the end. Now triplets, alone, with a body even weaker than before. His chest hitched.
'Why me? Why always me?'
The monitor beside him beeped sharply, his pulse rising too fast, too erratic. Adrian shifted closer, his hand strong and grounding on Yu's shoulder. Nathaniel raised a brow but did not press, recognizing the break in Yu's fragile state for what it was.
Yu turned his face away, tears leaking hot despite his best effort, his lips quivering as he whispered to himself.
"I can't… I can't do this again…"
Yu's tears broke open fully, a crystal stream against his pale cheeks as the papers slid from his hands and fanned across the bed. His words tumbled out jagged, unstoppable.
"I'll have to drop out—"
He gasped, choking on the sound.
"France is gone, I can't go anymore—this was my chance, my one chance—and now it's gone! Everything's gone! These babies, I love them, I do, but they're taking everything‐everything away from me!"
His voice cracked, raw, as if each word tore out pieces of him.
Dr. Nathaniel, wise in this kind of grief, offered only a soft nod before excusing himself. The door clicked quietly shut, leaving Yu in the hollow silence of his collapse.
Adrian gathered him immediately, not with words, not with corrections, but with arms that were steady and firm. He drew Yu against his chest, tucking him there, letting Yu's sobs crash into him like a storm against rock. He didn't shush him, didn't contradict him, didn't argue. He simply absorbed it, a quiet fortress.
Yu's fists beat once against Adrian's chest, weak and trembling, before clutching tight to his shirt as though he were the only anchor in a collapsing sea. His sobs came messy and loud, words muffled against Adrian's collar.
"I'm losing everything—"
Yu cried.
"—I don't want to lose myself too. I can't, I can't, Adrian—"
Adrian pressed his cheek against Yu's hair, breathing in his scent, grounding himself in the fragile body trembling in his arms. His voice was low, a rumble meant only for Yu's ears.
"Then don't."
He said softly.
"You won't lose yourself. Not while I'm here."
Yu shuddered harder, collapsing further into the circle of his arms.
Adrian didn't move, didn't push. He let the sobs pour, let every jagged confession bleed out. He held Yu until his tears began to dull, until the storm trembled into ragged breathing. Until the words gave way to small, broken whimpers.
And still, Adrian only held him, steady and warm, his arms a vow wrapped around Yu's fragile frame.
After a few moments, Yu's sobs finally softened into hiccups, his whole body trembling with the hollow exhaustion that followed a good cry. His grip on Adrian's shirt loosened but didn't let go, as if even in this fragile lull, he feared slipping away completely if he didn't hold on to something real.
His cheek pressed against Adrian's chest, the faint thump of a steady heartbeat grounding him in the hush that followed his collapse. His lashes were wet, clumped, and every inhale still rattled with grief, but the screaming in his chest had ebbed. What was left was raw, frayed silence.
Adrian stroked the back of his head, slow and gentle, thumb brushing soft circles at the nape of his neck. He didn't say anything more. He just let Yu breathe, let him sag in his arms, let him feel safe in the warmth of a body that refused to let him fall.
"…I don't deserve you."
Yu whispered hoarsely, the words breaking, barely audible.
Adrian only tightened his arms around him, letting his silence answer what Yu couldn't believe.
The door opened with a careful knock before it creaked wider. Dr. Nathaniel stepped in, his presence calm, professional, though his gaze softened at the sight of Yu curled against Adrian like fragile glass. He carried a clipboard in one hand, a paper bag of prescriptions in the other.
"I'm sorry to interrupt…"
Nathaniel said gently, his voice kept low so as not to jar the quiet.
"But I want to go over the next steps before you leave."
Adrian eased Yu back just slightly, enough to brush the damp strands from his face, coaxing his head up so the doctor could speak. Yu blinked sluggishly, his eyes rimmed red, but he nodded faintly.
Nathaniel laid the bag on the counter and began outlining in a steady, measured tone.
"This is the prescription of anti-nausea medication that will be safe for pregnancy, and some supplements for hydration and nutrition. As for the diet plan, I recommend small, frequent meals—high in protein, bland when possible, nothing too greasy or sweet."
He went on, making sure to go over everything once more to stress how important his instructions were for Yu and the babies health.
"Look out for the warning signs such as dizziness, fainting, inability to keep any food or fluids down, sudden cramps, or bleeding—if any of these appear, Yu must return immediately."
His words were firm but never sharp, clear yet not overwhelming.
"Hyperemesis is dangerous…"
Nathaniel concluded, his gaze resting on Yu.
"But not impossible to manage. You'll need help, every day, every step. Don't try to shoulder this alone."
Yu's throat worked as he nodded again, but his fingers curled instinctively into Adrian's sleeve, silently answering the doctor's warning with the only anchor he had.
Adrian straightened the moment Dr. Nathaniel finished, his arm firm around Yu's shoulders as though to shield him from the weight of every syllable.
"We'll follow everything exactly, I swear."
He said, his tone crisp with the kind of resolve that left no room for doubt.
"I'll monitor him, make sure he eats what he can, keep the medication on schedule. If anything changes, I'll bring him back immediately."
Nathaniel gave him a measured nod, perhaps recognizing that Adrian wasn't just a man sitting in on someone else's appointment—he was already carrying the mantle of partner, of caretaker.
"Good."
The doctor replied.
"That's what he needs. Consistency. Presence."
Adrian inclined his head respectfully, then guided Yu off the exam table with slow, patient care, adjusting his own stance to bear as much of Yu's weight as he'd allow. Yu leaned into him without a word, his exhaustion heavy but softened by the solid support at his side.
Adrian thanked Nathaniel once more, collected the prescriptions, and led Yu out. Their footsteps down the hallway were quiet, the muffled sounds of other patients and staff dim in comparison to the silence that wrapped them.
The automatic doors opened to the outside world. The crisp chill of late autumn air slipped into Yu's lungs, startling but refreshing, a stark contrast to the clinical heat of the hospital. He tightened his arms around himself, but Adrian immediately draped his coat over Yu's shoulders, guiding him forward with a hand pressed warm against his back.
The walk to the car was neither rushed nor slow—it carried the weight of everything unspoken between them. Heavy with the reality of Nathaniel's words, but lightened, somehow, by the rhythm of their steps moving in tandem, like Yu didn't have to face it all alone.
Adrian unlocked the car, opened the passenger side, and bent slightly, his voice a low murmur as he asked.
"You okay to sit? Or do you want me to help you in?"
Yu's lips twitched in something between a smile and a grimace as he shook his head faintly.
"I can…sit."
Adrian didn't press, but his hand lingered at the small of Yu's back as he guided him in, careful, steady, unwilling to let him falter for even a second.
Once the door closed, Adrian circled around to the driver's side, the parking lot quiet around them. As he slid behind the wheel, Yu let his hand rest over his belly, and for the briefest moment, the world felt suspended—fragile, heavy, and impossibly precious all at once.
Yu's sigh fogged the car window faintly, his breath shallow as though even exhaling hurt. His voice cracked when it finally came, trembling and small but heavy enough to tilt the air inside the car.
"I can't…do this anymore, Adrian. College. The assignments, the group projects, the presentations, homework, running from one class to the next—"
His hands curled tighter around his belly, nails pressing faintly into the fabric of Adrian's coat draped over him.
"I can't keep up. Somehow, the world keeps conspiring against me finishing on time. Maybe…maybe I'll never finish."
The words were bitter on his tongue, and once they were out, he bit his lip hard, shame weighing heavier than his exhaustion.
Adrian turned his head sharply at the confession, searching Yu's face in the dim glow of the dashboard. He saw the way Yu's lashes clung with unshed tears, the way his shoulders trembled like he'd just admitted to a crime.
Quietly, Adrian reached over, his palm grounding against Yu's knee.
"You've been carrying everything at once. School. Life. Them."
His hand slid briefly to press, reverently, against the curve of Yu's belly.
"It's already too much for most people. For you—"
He exhaled, gaze softening.
"I think you've already done more than anyone could ask."
Yu's throat closed, the tears he'd been fighting finally spilling. His voice was a whisper, barely audible.
"I…think I'm going to drop out."
The silence after was sharp, a blade cutting between them, but Adrian didn't flinch. He nodded once, firmly, like Yu hadn't just confessed a failure but chosen survival.
"Then drop out."
He said simply.
"Take leave. Breathe. You need it more than anyone I've ever seen. I'll help you with the withdrawal."
Yu shook his head, trembling still, shame rising again.
"But—"
His stomach churned violently, nausea swelling up so fast his words strangled off. He leaned forward, bracing on the dash as another round of sickness seized him.
Adrian's hand went straight to his back, steady, rubbing gentle circles.
"Easy. Don't force it."
He waited, patient, until Yu sagged back into the seat, pale and trembling.
When Yu could finally breathe again, his voice was barely audible, breaking in the middle.
"...Fine. Yes. Help me. With the leave."
Adrian's jaw tightened, not in frustration but in grim resolve. He squeezed Yu's knee once, anchoring him.
"I'll handle it. We'll get the paperwork started tomorrow. You don't need to carry this alone anymore."
And in that moment, Yu let himself lean into Adrian's touch, fragile but not broken.
---
The next morning, Yu lay curled under the blankets, staring at the red digits on the nightstand clock as they ticked past the exact time his plane should've been leaving. The flight to France—his dream, his escape—gone without him. His throat tightened until it ached, and before the tears could fall again, he pulled the blanket up over his head, muffling his quiet sob against the pillow.
Meanwhile, across campus, Adrian was finishing what Yu couldn't bring himself to do. The admissions office smelled of ink, paper, and too much coffee, the kind of sterile air only schools seemed to cultivate. Adrian leaned against the counter, filling out the last sections of Yu's medical leave application, his handwriting precise even though his jaw ached from clenching.
The sound of dragging footsteps broke his focus. He glanced up—and froze.
Callen stood a few paces away, shoulders slouched, eyes rimmed red and hollow as though sleep had abandoned him. His usually sharp blond hair was messy, and his designer hoodie hung loose like it hadn't seen the inside of a washing machine in days. He looked nothing like the cocky, playful heir everyone whispered about.
Their eyes met across the sterile tiled floor. For a moment, it was silent—an unspoken recognition of the toll Yu's absence had carved into both of them.
The silence between them stretched sharp as glass. The click of a pen, the hum of a printer, footsteps of other students—it all seemed distant. Callen's green eyes flickered, restless, caught between shame and longing, but his mouth worked before his courage fully caught up.
"How's he doing?"
His voice cracked, then steadied, softer.
"How's Yu… doing with… them?"
The word babies caught in his throat, fragile and unfinished, but it was enough to pull Adrian's gaze up from the paperwork.
For a heartbeat, Adrian said nothing. His dark earthy eyes narrowed, assessing, then hard with fire.
"You don't get to ask me that."
His tone was low, cutting, a barely leashed growl.
"You lost that right the second you walked away from him. The second you decided your liquor, your parties, and your bed-hopping were more important than the one person who needed that attention."
Callen flinched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
"That's not—"
"It is!"
Adrian snapped, biting off each word.
"You saw responsibility and bolted. You left him—pregnant, terrified, and fragile—alone. You think you can just waltz back and ask how he's doing?"
Adrian's hand pressed flat on the counter, steadying himself as much as making his point.
"If you'd had the balls to fight back, to try and help Yu then maybe I would've had more respect for you—maybe I would've let you near him but no. You choose the booze and partying. You didn't have to listen to me, you could've easily wormed your way into Yu's obit. But you didn't and for that, I'm at least thankful you're that much of a coward."
Adrian had no remorse and spewed out all his frustration on Callen that he couldn't unleash on Theo, at least for now.
"You abandoned him when he needed you most. Don't pretend you give a damn now."
Callen's jaw worked, guilt coloring his features, but his pride kept him from breaking.
"You don't know what I—what I felt. You don't know what it's like to—"
"I know what it's like to stay!"
Adrian cut in, voice like steel.
"To hold him through every panic attack. To take him to every appointment. To pick him up when he collapses from stress you and your kind of 'love' helped pile on him. You want to talk about feelings, Callen? Don't. You lost that privilege."
The words hung between them, brutal, final.
The tension thickened like storm clouds, Callen's green eyes burning with guilt and defiance. His shoulders squared, his jaw tight.
"You think I don't care?"
Callen hissed, stepping closer, chest nearly brushing Adrian's.
"You think I wanted to walk away? I—"
His voice cracked, raw with heat.
"I didn't know how to handle it, alright? I've never—never dealt with anything like this. Not to mention you have a gun, dammit! You told me to stay away! I was scared. And I didn't want to screw it up."
Adrian's lips curled into a snarl.
"So you did screw it up. By running. By leaving him to cry himself to sleep while you drowned in bottles and strangers. You want a medal for being too much of a coward to stay? Tsk, even if I were held hostage and tortured, I'd never leave Yu."
Callen's fists trembled at his sides.
"Don't you dare—"
"I was there when he begged for someone to stay…"
Adrian cut in, voice rising, eyes flashing.
"I was there when he vomited until he collapsed, when he cried that he wasn't enough, when he cursed himself for ever trusting you. I stayed. You left. That's the truth."
Something in Callen broke then—his pride shattered under the weight of truth and love clawing out of him. His words tumbled, harsh, frantic.
"I love him! You hear me? I love him! I've never loved anyone like I love Yu. Do you think I can even look at another person now?"
His voice shook, hand pressing over his groin in frustration.
"I can't even get it up with anyone else since him! You think that's just guilt? No. That's because he ruined me—in the best damn way—and I'd give anything to have him back!"
The air crackled. Adrian's eyes widened, rage and disbelief flooding through him as he stepped forward, chest to chest with Callen, fists clenched, ready to strike—
"Gentlemen!"
Both whipped their heads toward the sharp voice. A staff member stood in the hallway, brows drawn, arms crossed with authority.
"Either you both leave this office now, or I'll have security escort you out. Do you understand me?"
Adrian's jaw worked as he glared at Callen, nostrils flaring. Callen's fists uncurled, shame flushing his face as he looked away. Neither spoke, but both nodded stiffly, the promise of violence still simmering in the air between them.
The staff member's glare didn't falter until Adrian and Callen were shoved out into the crisp campus air. The heavy door shut behind them with a hollow thunk, leaving them on the steps, their anger still burning, unspent.
Callen was the first to break the silence, his voice low but sharp, words trembling with fury and desperation.
"The babies might be mine, Adrian. You hear me? Mine. And that means I've got every right to ask about Yu and how he's doing."
Adrian froze mid-step, shoulders taut, his jaw ticking. Slowly, he turned, his dark gaze cutting into Callen. His hands clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.
"No."
Adrian said, each syllable ground out like broken glass as he lied.
"It's been confirmed the babies are mine. And that means you're free. Free to keep drowning in your bars and bodies, free to keep running away when it matters. You're not going to be a father, Callen."
The words landed heavy, brutal. Callen's breath caught in his throat.
"And if you try to come back, if you dare try and get close to Yu again… I won't just "wave" my gun in the air like last time. And that's a promise."
Adrian didn't wait for a reply. He turned sharply on his heel, striding away with controlled fury, already pulling his phone out to finish the forms at home.
Callen stood frozen on the steps, the chill finally seeping into his skin. Relief trickled in—he wouldn't have to grow up, shoulder the impossible, or face fatherhood before his time. Yet the relief was hollow, leaving behind a cavern in his chest. The thought that the children growing in Yu's belly would never look at him and call him "daddy" burned deeper than he expected, and the emptiness rang louder than his excuses ever had.
Callen shoved his hands into his pockets and descended the steps, his shoes striking too loud against the pavement. The people he passed blurred into static, laughter and chatter around him like background noise. All he could hear was Adrian's voice, ringing like a curse.
"You're not going to be a father."
He replayed it, over and over, and the words carved deeper each time.
He lit a cigarette without thinking, though he hadn't smoked in months. The burn in his throat didn't soothe—it only reminded him how empty he felt. He thought about Yu, small and fragile in his arms on the couch, trembling but still clinging to him. He thought about the necklace he'd given Yu, the star pendant he'd imagined him wearing forever. He thought about how he wanted Yu like no one else before—no party, no fling, no one-night thrill compared.
Now Adrian had taken everything.
He stopped at the edge of campus, head bowed, tears stinging but refusing to fall. He muttered to himself—excuses, denials, half-formed wishes—but all that came out was a rasp.
"I love him…damn it, I really… I love him."
The cigarette slipped from his lips, forgotten, as he pressed both hands to his face. For the first time in a long time, Callen Wright felt small. Powerless. Hollow.
---
Hours later, the door to the penthouse clicked open. Adrian stepped inside, his coat still dusted with the cold. His jaw was tight, his mind replaying every word with Callen, but the moment his eyes found Yu curled up on the couch, the fury dimmed.
Yu's blanket was pulled up to his chin, his eyes glassy but softening at the sight of Adrian. The room smelled faintly of ginger tea—Joy must have left some earlier.
Adrian closed the door quietly behind him and crossed the space with deliberate calm, sinking to one knee at Yu's side. His hand brushed gently over Yu's hairline, pushing a stray strand of dark brown from his face.
"I'm back."
Adrian murmured, his voice stripped of the edge it had outside.
"Everything's taken care of. You don't need to worry about a thing."
Yu nodded faintly, his lips trembling as if to speak, but all he managed was a whisper of relief.
"You came back."
Adrian's chest tightened. He wanted to promise "always".
Instead, he pressed a kiss to Yu's lips and pulled the blanket tighter around him, as if sealing him away from the chaos clawing at their world outside.