Time Isn't an Ally [Book 3, BoyxBoy]

Time Isn't an Ally [Chapter 19]

Hey guys, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, HAPPY HOLIDAYS IN GENERAL! How you been? You doing good? Yeah? Awesome! Here's the next chapter :D 

Sams POV

Izazya sat down at my side, looking at me; his green eyes wide. I gave him a small smile.

"We need to talk about this like adults," I said slowly. "You aren't a child anymore, Izzy."

"Izzy," he murmered. "You haven't called me that for a while." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he looked at the bed sheets; tracing patterns on them with his fingertips.

"I know," I laughed quietly. "Shall we talk then?"

"Tell me whatever I need to know." He replied sharply, an eager tone underlying his almost emotionless one. I heard it, even if other wouldn't have.

"Okay," I said, and began the story.

Things hadn't always been the way they were these days; Damon had been happy, and Gabriel was the one who was seen as mysterious. Neither of them really got on from the start, it had been that way since they were younger. The only difference? Damon and I. We were an item... More than that. We were soul mates and we knew it. We fit into each others lives perfectly; like two jigsaw pieces.

Back then, Damon had been interested in art, but all he would ever paint, draw or sketch was me. He carried his sketch book with everywhere with him and would always catch me out unexpectedly with a drawing; whether we were in the garden or the local park. Either way; his drawings were perfect.

Things got serious very quickly, we got engaged and soon, I had news to break to him.

"Damon, we need to talk." I had said, sitting down on a bench in the extensive garden.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sitting beside me and taking my hand as a soft gesture of comfort. I looked at him, taking in a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant, Damon." I whispered, "we're having a baby."

It was rare to see Damon in a fragile state, but this was one of those occasions. His eyes widened and his breathing stopped for a millisecond. His eyes met mine; welling up with tears.

"Sam..." he mumbled, pausing for a second. "Sam!" he laughed, standing up and picking me up, spinning me around. I giggled, screaming for him to put me down. After a couple more twirls, he did. He took my face in his hands and kissed me, an urgent kiss filled with love and happiness.

"This is brilliant," he whispered, laughing breathlessly. "Completely brilliant."

"You're happy, then?" I asked. He nodded enthusiastically. I grinned and he returned it, before we embraced.

The next few months was spent with Damon being busy decorating the house and making everything baby-proof; sharp objects were blunted and baby-gates were on every doorway. The floor in the spare room was ripped up; the floorboards replaced and a plush carpet was fitted. The walls were painted white and Damon put his artistic talents to work; cartoon characters and animals were painted on every wall, brightening the whole appearance of the room itself.

Nine months later, the baby arrived. No-one noticed anything unusual about the baby's blond locks or blue eyes-

"Sam," Izazya stopped me. "You're not trying to tell me in a very long way that Joe's related to me, are you?" I heard the fear in his voice. I smiled and shook my head.

"No, don't worry." I laughed. He smiled and nodded.

Damon was ecstatic with joy that he finally had a son, the son he had always dreamed of having. He spent time with him constantly; taught him his first words, read books to him and taught him to walk. He was a true father figure. It wasn't until two years later that everything became shambles.