So I've recently discovered I have energy if I write in short bursts. Still have to force myself, still tired, but honestly, I'm trying to make it a positive discovery! 30 years disabled and still learning something new everyday.
Here's something inspired by the wonderful @comingaback amazingly gorgeous idea of a Dennis lookalike baby boy and girldads!
I could not get the idea of Hucklebabies out of my head. So here's an omegaverse futurefic take. There will be a part 2. Oh and I actually named them!
"Abbas going to kill you." Adam blinks at hearing Sara's far too delighted voice.
"No he's not" The voice is soft, more of a whine than anything else. Given the circumstances, Adam can't be blamed. His Abba doesn't even yell. Momma yells at them sometimes, but only if he, Sara and Malia are really ticking him off. Adam bites his lip in thought. Momma will definitely yell this time. He really messed up.
Uncle John opens the curtain and Sara immediately bounces over to him, as if her only brother isn't in a hospital bed dying.
"Stop being dramatic you'll be fine, right Uncle John", Malia asks. Out of any of them, it's going to be Mali that will be the Dr in this generation. She's the poster child of a modern day omega.
"No broken bones or whiplash. You got lucky kids."
If Adam could make the effort to laugh, he would. Luck and the now wrecked, new car with every safety feature known to man had helped with that. And Adam turned the car to his side before they were hit, not willing to risk being hit straight on with his baby sisters in the passenger seats. He's 17 and already messed up.
Uncle John continues looking down at the chart. "CT is clean. You have a minor concussion but you'll be fine at home with your parents keeping an eye. No screens for a while though."
Malia bites her lip it's funny, it's the same way he and Mom do. His head hurts and he's distracted and doesn't hear her start to say "Mom and Abba" -
"Are already on there way. You 3 might be paying the speeding ticket. Or there might be two wrecked cars."
Leave it to Uncle John to find this funny. Abba says he's been around Uncle Jack too long.
"Do you want to try sitting up." Adam frowns at that. Doing anything right now sounds like a bad idea.
"Well he's going to have to get up if we want out of here or we could be stuck here forever."
Adam can't even see his youngest sister but he bets she's rolling her eyes. Sara is 13 and likely going to be a Beta, but she can be as dramatic as an Alpha most days, or on days ending in Y.
Sure enough the growl that comes from Malia could only be directed towards Sara but Adam can't help bite down the urge to call back. His omega instincts stronger than ever right now. His 16 year old sister would be feeling the same.
It's not fair. His sisters are fine and he's dizzy and his head hurts and momma and abba aren't here yet. It feels like it's been hours. Why aren't they here.
Sara bounces over and before he knows it he has his arms full, as she cuddles into him she says "You told Uncle John to do the tests first, remember."
"Oh"
"And it's only been an hour", Uncle John calls out. He's back looking at Adams chart, probably triple checking so he can tell mom and abba a military operation log of tonights events. Every second accounted for.
He's startled when Sara pokes him, an instinctive 'ouch' comes out of him. It doesn't hurt that much but still. You don't poke people who've been in car crashes.
She's looking expectedly at him, the same way she did when she was little and wanted something from someone. It always works but this time Adam is too tired to really respond, he closes his eyes only to hear Malia growl again then a sudden weight leaving the bed.
He turns his head to the side and pushes some stray curls out of his eye, and sees Sara now pressed into Uncle John's side. He looks at both girls like he's watching an interesting documentary.
Sara is pouting and the expression is all Abba when he's irritated by something, as she snaps at Malia saying, "Will you stop, you're not mom. And mom said you couldn't growl at me, that you're not some feral."
Before Mali could reply something just as snarky, Uncle John swiftly intervenes with a patience that could only be learned in Nightshift at a level 1 trauma centre, "Okay, time out for you both. Go sit in the break room and wait for your parents they'll probably be here in 5 minutes."
Adams stomach feels uneasy and suddenly getting sat up seems like a good thing to prioritise. He doesn't want to scare his parents.
Uncle John says again to the girls "Go sit in the break room." He adds an incentive, "There's cookies from dayshift still left."
Both Malia and Sara visibly perk up at that. Mom brought in a massive box of homemade cookies at the start of day 1/3 dayshifts this week. There's still some spare at home, but when mom bakes for the ED, they always get the best.
His sisters are barely gone ten seconds before Uncle John starts talking. "So, we did routine bloods as well."
"I feel sick, Adam whispers."
"The concussion will do that" Uncle John's voice is well practiced neutrality, waiting for Adam to decide what words come next.
That feeling in his stomach, that pit. "It's not the concussion." Admitting that feels worse than literally being in a car crash.
Uncle John is trying to meet his eyes but Adam can't look, not yet. Not until he's talking to Adam, saying, "No I didn't think so. Funny thing, morning sickness. Not just confined to morning."
