Chapter One: Facing the Night alone

Conrad Weller awoke with a start. It took him a few moments longer than usual to get himself back under control. He'd had that nightmare again… the same one he'd been having multiple times almost every night for the past 17 months.

Great One but he hated this.

He shifted slightly, in a vain attempt to get comfortable and alleviate the pain in his lower back. Not an easy thing to do when one was less than a month away from giving birth to their first child. Beside him his Husband shifted, the well muscled arm slung across his hips tightening slightly around him. Conrad smiled, his husband was a great man and he loved him dearly, but the restraining arm was making him uncomfortable.

Damned nightmares!

Damned Aisen.

Damned memories!

He sighed, between remembered nightmares, the pain in his lower back and the utterly ridiculous craving for Almond Pocky and pineapple (of all things) he wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon. His husband's hand resting lightly across the swollen mound of his stomach was going to make it difficult to escape without waking the man. Carefully he lifted the man's hand with its gleaming gold ring, and slid out of bed. Deftly he pulled the covers up around his sleeping mate and positioned the man's hand neatly on his pillow. He smiled slightly, watching as his husband cuddled up to his pillow in the absence of his warmth.

Conrad's stomach rolled as soon he stood up, and it was a struggle to keep anything down.

Forget the Pocky, he was going to get himself a cup of tea! His decision made, he … waddled (for lack of a better term) into their living room, his stomach and his unborn child protesting the slight walk and the rigors of remaining vertical. It was times like this when he hated being pregnant.

Hated Aisen for doing this to him.

Hated that in the course of one night he'd completely lost his control over the course of his life.

He closed his eyes briefly, ignored the pain in his back, and leaned into the wall for support. It took a moment but the pain soon passed, he didn't think anything of it, he wasn't 'due' for another month. He'd been experiencing these little spasms of pain for the past month – but Gisela informed him that they were normal – particularly for his first pregnancy. With a sigh he continued on, bound for the little bar by the window in his living room and eventually his couch.

It took him a moment to gather the supplies for his tea but soon he'd mixed together the peppermint, lavender and chamomile leaves and had the tea steeping. Another twinge as he was adding honey to his drink made him groan, he didn't think he could do this ever again – he simply wasn't strong enough.

This pregnancy had been very difficult. So far it was shaping out to be 18 months of hell!

Finally he made it to his couch and sat down. Shifting the overstuffed pillows around so that they cradled his back – it was here away from his husband's tender loving embrace that his mind wandered. He couldn't help it, usually all he wanted was for his child to be born safe and healthy. Normally he didn't care what it looked like or which parent its looks favored. However, here in the dark night, when his husband wasn't there to rescue him from such thoughts – he hoped the child looked exactly like he did.

It wasn't his Vanity.

Really it wasn't.

Simply that it would be much easier to pass the child off as his husband's if it looked nothing like its father. Part of him never wanted the child to know that his husband wasn't its sire, but the practical part of his mind knew that sooner or later the truth would come out. It always did, and always at the least convenient moment. But honestly how and when should he tell his child this? How did one tell a child that their father wasn't really their father?

He closed his eyes, feeling tears slide down his cheeks. It would be hard to explain Aisen's thatch yellow hair, and harder still to explain the man's purple eyes, nearly impossible to explain the cleft chin.

Great One but he hated himself!

At time like this when he was alone, and had time to think he hated himself.

Hated Aisen for the mess he'd gotten him into.

He simply couldn't understand how his husband had been so understanding, so gentle, and so kind to him.

After he'd betrayed him, violated his trust and slept with another man.

He reached out without thinking and clutched the sliver pendent hanging at his throat. It had been a gift from his husband shortly before their wedding. It had been given to him when his husband had asked for the right to publically court him with the intent of marriage. He'd gazed at the inscription on the back so many times that he knew it by heart.

'I'm always here for you, past, present and future my heart beats for you and you alone –promise.'

His beloved husband had made good on that promise, he'd stayed by him through everything. Helped him through every bump and hurtle on the way. Taken care of him and his – their unborn child, through a very, very difficult pregnancy, stayed with him through every embarrassing exam, listened to every lecture on child birth, and the first few months Gisela could throw at them, and never once accused him of being unfaithful. The man had been with him through more crap then Conrad could have asked him to endure.

The other man was constantly reminding him of his love. Reassuring him, again and again that he was loved, that none of this was his fault, gently reminding him that he was safe when he felt nothing but lost, vulnerable and so filthy he was sure he would never be clean again.

He took a sip of his tea and tried to shake of the memories that invariably accompanied thoughts of his infidelity, but after a few minutes of struggling, he lost the battle with his thoughts and slipped beneath the surface and was carried away by a riptide of memories.

Memories of the events leading up to his infidelity

Memories of how his child was conceived

Of the gaping wounds that night had left behind

In his self image

In his confidence and security

Wounds that were still healing

Slowly, slowly healing