by Aiden Bates
The entire Idoni family—Rhoda, Winston, Sarah, and Martin—came up to Syracuse to visit and to help out. Rhoda was beside herself with joy at the sight of her granddaughter and often stared into Angela's unfocused eyes. "She looks just like Toby."
Finn couldn't quite see it that way. He tended to think all newborns looked more or less the same. If it brought his mother-in-law some consolation, though, he'd take it.
Their family was complete now. They might add to it, although Finn would prefer not to risk it with Carter's health. He had everything he needed right there.
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Deliver Me – Bonus Chapter
Carter looked around the hotel ballroom and licked his lips. This wasn't his usual crowd. No one wore a white coat, unless they were up on the stage with him. Everyone carried some grief on their face. Some of the guests were older. Some were young. Some didn't even look like they were out of their teens. "All right, everyone. We're all here for the workshop on pregnancy loss. If you're looking for the panel talk on infertility you want the Pacific ballroom, and if you're looking for the discussion on adoption you want the Atlantic. The discussion on financing treatment is in the Caribbean room, which should tell you a lot." One or two people left the room.
Carter took a breath and continued. "All right. Now that we're all sure that we're here for the same reason. My name is Carter Idoni. I'm the CMO at Silver Oak Medical Center here in Syracuse, and I'm also an obstetrician and gynecologist by trade. I've attended hundreds of miscarriages and stillbirths. I've had to terminate pregnancies that endangered the life of the carrier parent." He picked his head up, even though he wanted to leave it down. "My older brother died during a miscarriage, when he was eighteen. That's what made me want to go into medicine in the first place. And I've gone through two miscarriages of my own. This is a subject that I know very, very well.
"That said, every miscarriage is unique. My first miscarriage almost killed me. I was up on my feet and back at work two days after the second one. There is no right way to miscarry, and there is no wrong way to respond. There's no wrong way to grieve. I mean there are healthy ways to respond, sure, just like there are healthy or unhealthy ways to respond to any loss." Carter shrugged. "That's what you're doing, you're going through a loss. Even when it's something you knew was coming, even when you've had time to plan for it, it's still a loss, and that still affects you. And that's without all of the hormonal factors."
Carter pulled the mic out of its stand and stepped away from the podium. "What we're here to do isn't just to cover a few medical basics. You can look that up on the Internet for yourselves; you're all grown adults. What we're here to do is to break down some of the myths, stereotypes, and stigmas about this thing that we've all endured, or maybe we've known people who've endured it. Maybe we're afraid of it. I was. I still am.
"Before we get started, though, I want you to look around." He waved his hand over the crowd. "When I went through my first miscarriage, I felt like I was completely alone in the world. I mean, I knew that I wasn't. I'd helped patients through countless events just like mine. I'd taught the doctor who helped me through mine!" He chuckled, and the crowd seemed to relax with him. "But that didn't change the fact that afterward, I didn't feel like there was anyone I could go to. Even though I knew better, I still had that kind of sludgy feeling of shame that I was carrying around with me. That person sitting next to you? They've been through what you've been through. The person on your other side, the person behind you, the person in front of you? They're in this boat with you. And so am I. There is no shame in this room. There is no stigma, in this room. You are free."
He glanced at the other panelists, who nodded. "All right," he said and gestured. "Let's get started. Does anyone have any questions to get us going, or should we start with some canned material?"
One woman, a young woman who hadn't lost all of her baby weight yet, stood up, and they were off to the races. Carter called on her, but he let Allen answer her question about incompetent cervix. Once she'd asked her question the floodgates were open, and the two-hour panel sped by. By the end of it, Carter felt like he'd just fought a title bout. He was grinning like a maniac, and he handed out and accepted cards and email addresses from audience members with true pleasure.
That was where Finn and Angie found him after they escaped from the finance panel. Angie looked so grown up at four, walking along with her hand in her dad's. She'd dressed just like Carter, right down to the little white lab coat over her black clothes. Carter's heart caught in his chest, just like it did every time he saw her.
His mother was right. She really did look like Toby.
She dropped Finn's hand and raced toward him when she saw him, shrieking "Daddy!" at the top of her tiny little lungs. He picked her up and spun her around as soon as she got within range, ending by holding her close to himself. "Did you have a good day in your panel, sugar plum?" he asked her.
She nodded and gave him a pin that read, Ask Me About Financing. "They had stuff!"
"Awesome!" he said. "I bet they loved you!"
"Everyone loves me." She put her hands on her hips before throwing her arms back around him. "Can we go home now?"
"You betcha." Finn gave Carter a decorous peck on the cheek. The pat on the ass could have been almost overlooked by anyone around him, which sent a silent thrill up Carter's spine. They'd both gotten better about being openly affectionate, and it was incredible if he did say so himself.
They drove back to the house as quickly as they could and ate a quick dinner. They could have stayed at the conference for dinner, but Finn hadn't wanted to register for that. He didn't think that it was right to challenge Angie's good behavior so far, and Carter agreed with him. Home it was, and a home-cooked meal to boot.
They played with Angie for a little while after dinner, and then they read a story to her and put her to bed. She didn't fight it. It had been a long day for her at a conference that had little to interest a small child. She'd been cheerful and good, just as she usually was, but it had been an exhausting day.
Once Angie was ready for sleep, Carter and Finn retired to their room. Soon Martin would be here. He'd aged out of the foster system in Tennessee, but Carter's parents would no more put him out on the street than they'd eat their own shoes. He'd been accepted to Syracuse University, with the help of scholarships and some help from his older foster brother. For now, though, it was just their nuclear family. Even the nanny had the day off.
Carter started a fire in the fireplace, Finn fixed them both martinis, and they put their feet up to relax.
"Did you have a good time today?" Finn asked him, passing Carter his martini.
Carter considered, letting the gin caress his mouth. "Oh, that's nice. I think… I mean, the topics I had were difficult ones, so I think that saying it was a good time would be a bit of a challenge. But I think it was worthwhile, and I'm glad we put this one together. And I'm doubly glad that I led that panel at the end there."
"Yikes." Finn winced. "I'm kind of glad that I missed it. It wouldn't have been appropriate for Angie, and I'd feel like even more of an ass for how I behaved."
"You were grieving too." Carter linked their free hands and fell silent for a moment. He enjoyed the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the house settling in around them. "It was a hard topic. When I first put it on the calendar, I wondered if anyone would want to come at all. I was surprised when the room was full, but I guess I shouldn't be. It's a sad topic, but I wasn't sad when I came out of there. It was like… I was energized. I felt alive. I felt like we had a community, and we were doing good work helping others to heal. Does that make sense at all?"
"I guess." Finn looked down into his glass. "Do you ever wish we could have another one?"
Carter contemplated his drink. "Sometimes," he admitted in a quiet voice. He sipped his drink and continued. "But I get that it's not healthy for me at this point. The risks outweigh the potential rewards. And honestly, Angie was so in
credible from the time we brought her home, I don't want to chance it either. You don't get that lucky twice."
Finn laughed, which had been Carter's goal. Sure, Carter sometimes regretted that he'd had to get himself voluntarily sterilized. He hadn't really had much choice in the matter. The consequences of another miscarriage would have been too dangerous. Dwelling on it wouldn't do either of them any good, though. He had Finn, and he had Angie. That was enough for him, and more than he'd ever thought he could have.
Carter let his head rest on Finn's shoulder, lifting it only to sip from his drink. "Do you regret staying in Syracuse?" he asked. "I know you could probably make more money if we moved back to Cleveland."
Finn shook his head. "Before you, maybe. Before you, I was only part of a company. I wasn't part of a community. Now I've got you and Angie, sure, and she'll be going to MPH next year. But we've also got Paul and the kids. We've got Martin starting at SU, and we've got everyone around here. I spent my whole life pursuing more money, nothing but money. Now I have a place." He dropped a kiss, long and lingering, onto Carter's lips. "And that place is by your side."
"And in my bed." Carter shot his husband a teasing grin and put his empty glass onto the bedside table.
"There too," Finn added with a chuckle. He unbuttoned Carter's shirt and helped him off with it, making Carter feel like a present being unwrapped. Carter loved that feeling, as the cool air caressed his skin and his body was exposed to his husband's gaze. He had no shame, not with Finn, and he let out a little moan of appreciation as Finn's fingertips brushed across his hard nipples.
"Someone's a little eager." Finn peeled Carter's undershirt off and licked his lips.
"Looks like I'm not the only one." He propped himself up against the pillows and lifted his hips.
Finn took the hint and took off Carter's dress pants. He got rid of Carter's underwear too, leaving him bare to the room. Before he went any further, or did anything about it, Finn went and locked the doors to their bedroom. The nanny, Grace, wasn't due back at home until the next day and no one wanted Angie to walk in and see something unseemly.
Finn stripped off his designer shirt, a floral monstrosity that Carter had tried to hide in the back of the closet four times, and slipped into bed at the bottom. He mouthed his way up Carter's leg from the ankle to the knee, sucking little marks into the flesh as he worked. He moved so slowly that Carter found himself grabbing the sheets in frustration, even though he was getting so hot that the last thing he wanted was more cloth.
As Finn's mouth moved farther up Carter's body, nibbling up the inside of his thigh, Finn's body settled in between his legs. Carter had already been half hard, but now he positively ached with need. "Christ," he whispered, through gritted teeth.
Finn was not to be rushed. He grabbed the lube from the nightstand as he mouthed along Carter's cock at the same patient, tantalizing pace he'd worked Carter's leg. Carter was panting by the time Finn got his mouth onto the head, and he couldn't resist bucking his hips just a bit.
Finn put a gentle arm across his hips and kept going. Carter restrained himself after that, although he had no idea how he managed to do it. He didn't think his brain was entirely functioning on all cylinders at the moment, but he just lay there and spread his legs a little wider for his husband.
Finn stretched him out good and slow while using his mouth to short out all of Carter's brain cells. Only when Carter was fully ready to go did Finn take off any of his own clothes. He pulled off of Carter with a pop and stripped off quickly. Carter could see that he was almost painfully hard. When Finn slicked himself up and pushed into Carter, working his way into his body with short shallow thrusts, Carter cried out at the perfection of that moment.
He had no idea how long he lasted. He'd been close anyway, and he'd found that ever since they stopped using condoms he tended to finish a lot sooner. There was something about the way that Finn felt inside him, bare to him, that just sent him over the edge every time and that was okay. Finn could keep going, thrusting away inside of him like there was no tomorrow, and Carter would still love every minute of it.
When Finn lost the rhythm, Carter held on tight and helped him through the aftershocks. He loved this feeling almost as much as that first moment of penetration. He loved how it felt to have Finn finish inside of him, with nothing between them. It wasn't something that he could explain, but it always brought a happy little smile and hum to his face.
They lay together for a long moment, and then they got up to clean themselves off. When they dried off, they donned pajama pants and unlocked the doors before crawling back into bed.
Carter shifted his position so that he could lie with his head pillowed on Finn's chest. He rested his hand on Finn's belly, and Finn held his hand. Their rings touched, and Finn smiled down at him. "Did you ever think we'd wind up here?"
Carter shook his head. "No. But I'm glad we did."
"Me too." Finn kissed his forehead, and they dropped off to sleep.
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Preview Chapter: Daring the Devil
Dylan balanced on top of one of the roofs. He didn't like this. He didn't understand why they were filming in Syracuse in the first place. Wouldn't it have made more sense to film in someplace like Vancouver? They would still have gotten the right amount of seasons, and the crew would have gotten healthcare. It would have been simple, but no. Apparently the director had some kind of emotional ties to the old rust belt city or something like that, so here they were.
Or rather, here Dylan was, in a pair of fake-leather breeches that didn't look anything at all like what someone would have worn in the 1790s and nothing else, carrying a heavy sword on a slanted surface that still had ice on it. Ice, for crying out loud. There wouldn't be ice on the roof in Vancouver. If they were in Vancouver, they'd be filming on a sound stage.
He brandished the ridiculous sword, whose only purpose was to emphasize the definition in his arms and shoulders. "Richards, you coward! Give her back!"
A loudspeaker called back to him in Tino's voice. "Come and get her, you Barbary louse!" Of course, Tino didn't have to be out here in this. Tino wasn't the one out on display like a piece of meat. Tino was five years older and didn't have the same kind of pull in his contract. Tino was in his trailer, warm and dry and reading Wine Spectator or something.
Dylan knew what he needed to do next. He'd practiced the stunt with the stunt coordinator enough times. All he had to do was lunge forward in a furious rage, swinging his sword in a way that would convince ninety percent of the people watching the movie at home that he knew what he was doing and could successfully cause serious bodily harm to an English soldier.
Dylan lunged. His foot slipped, but he recovered. Damn, but the roof was icy. "That was for my father, you pig!" Dylan cried.
"Cut!" Charlie, the director, stood up from his rapidly sinking folding chair. The PA whose whole job it was to hold the umbrella over him held it a little higher and chased after Charlie while he waddled over. "Ugh. What's wrong with you, Dylan? This is a very simple scene, you've practiced it a hundred times in the studio. You should be able to get it right in one take. No real Barbary pirate would slip on a rooftop. Barbary pirates have perfect footwork."
Dylan held his tongue. Barbary pirates wouldn't have been caught dead in upstate New York, either. They would absolutely have had more sense than to have gone running around all but naked in November, barefoot on rooftops. Someday, he was going to be the kind of big-name star that had the clout to point these things out. For now, he had to bite his tongue and do what he was told.
At least he was getting paid, and getting paid well.
"We can do it again." He took a deep breath and forced a smile. The great thing about gritting his teeth and bearing it was that it kept his teeth from chattering in the cold.
They set the scene up again, which took half an hour. No one offered him a blanket, or even a place out of the rain. It would have surprised Dylan if they had. They'd decided to film her
e for the "true, authentic experience," after all.
The next time they ran the shot, Dylan did his part just fine, but the loudspeaker malfunctioned. Dylan thought that he'd timed his part fine anyway, and they could edit in the sound later just like they were going to edit in the actual fight scene, but no, that wouldn't do. Once again, Dylan had to run the scene again. Once again, that meant another half hour of standing out in the rain while people ran and did things. By this point, Dylan was starting to wonder how much cold a mostly-naked person could take in one day.
He shivered as he climbed back up onto the roof. Charlie waddled through the mud and shouted up to Dylan. "Dylan, I want you to do something a little flashier than you've been doing for that attack sequence. I mean you're a pirate for crying out loud, not some useless grunt! Act like it!"
Charlie looked at the spots of ice still on the roof. "It's a little slick up here, sir."
Charlie threw his hands up in the air. "So don't slip, Dylan. Honestly, what are you, twelve? I can't tell you everything. Next time I talk to Phil, your agent, I'm going to tell him to make sure that he doesn't send me children, only serious men who are ready to do a serious job. Get into your damn position and get set."
