Cut Ties (Paultryck Mpreg)

Part 2

"Sir, we have to hurry! I'll give you the baby and I'll carry Pat, but please, we need to get moving!"

Tord ignored this, keeping his focus on The communicator as Winston verified the number.

"...618254 - Patryck Ivanovich Duncalfe? Is that who's hurt?"

"Yes, that's him, now if you excuse me, I have to take something. We'll be there in a minute." Tord turned off the communicator, rushing to the back of the room to take the baby from Paul.

Now with free hands, Paul took off his coat, censoring Pat's lower half before  hooking his arms under Pat's legs and under his back. He stood up carefully, lifting the taller man into a bridal carry and quickly looking to Tord.

"Everything is almost ready," Winston said, "Where in the base are you coming from so I can send aid?"

"West wing, by the drawing room."

Paul didn't want to waste any more time, tucking Patryck's face against his chest and breaking into a sprint. Tord followed moments after with the baby.

Patryck, bless his heart, gained a bit of consciousness back, his hands weakly gripping Paul's sweater. Paul looked down, letting a quiet sob escape. "Pat, are you there?"

A weak, slow nod.

"Oh thank God, how are you feeling?"

Patryck didn't say anything, his eyes blank as he stared at nothing in particular.

"Pat, talk to me, please..."

"He's going into shock, don't force him to talk." Tord ordered, adjusting his hold on the baby to get a better look.

"We're almost there Pat, hang on for me."

There was silence for a good hundred feet as Tord stared down at the whimpering infant. "Just in case anything happens to Duncalfe, I want you to know that the baby has his eyes."

"Nothing's going to happen to him, don't talk like that!" Paul barked, holding Patryck a little closer to his body.

Even as he said it, Paul knew that he could be wrong. Patryck had lost a lot of blood, he could die before they even reach Winston. He could die, leaving Paul with a baby that had his radiant green eyes, which would mock him with their beauty to the end of his days.

He couldn't let Pat die.

A group of four nurses were waiting in the hall outside the med bay, and all began to chatter at once when they saw Paul and Tord turn the corner. Each of them said something different, and assaulted Paul's ears with far too many words at once.

"The room's ready!"
"Did you try and stop the bleeding?" "Where is he bleeding?"
"I'll take him off your hands!"
"Someone make sure the iv is ready, come on!"

Paul rushed past them, ignoring their good intention and running straight to Winston.

Winston was in full dress - gloves, goggles, and all - and immediately began to help Paul ease Patryck onto the examination table.

"So what happened?" He asked, taking tool after tool out of every pocket to examine Patryck's upper body.

"He just had a baby, he's bleeding down there. It's a lot."

Winston seemed oddly unphased, immediately moving to look between Pat's legs.

God, did this guy have any sense of privacy?

He turned to look at one of the nurses, speaking to them. "The umbilical cord is still inside," after she nodded, Winston turned back to Paul. "What came out with the baby?"