Chapter Text
Alex leaned over the toilet and threw up his lunch. The chunks of pineapple and spam mixed with rice that seemed so tasty a half an hour ago now caused his stomach to heave and roll. Placing his head against the cold porcelain of the bowl, he wondered if maybe he had food poisoning, but then dismissed the idea. The craft service company that worked for 101st Street Television Productions was the best on the island and had worked for other television shows filmed in Honolulu. There was no way they'd let their food go bad and then serve it to the crew. That was a lawsuit waiting to happen. It had to be something else.
Perhaps he was coming down with stomach flu? If that was the case he was screwed. They had another six days of filming the season one finale and if he had to call out sick and shut production down, CBS and the brass were not going to be pleased. Plus Scott would have his head if they didn't fly back to Los Angeles this Saturday as they had plans to have dinner with Scott's dad and stepmother.
It was in fact the dinner. Alex knew Scott planned to tell his dad that they were a couple. He knew Scott was nervous about the dinner, even though his father knew Scott was bisexual; Scott had exclusively dated women the last ten years since he'd broken up with his last serious boyfriend, Ross. While Alex had been with other men before Scott, he'd never been serious with any of them. It had been something completely casual. Scotty was his first serious relationship since he'd broken up with Holly.
As another wave of nausea overtook him, this time accompanied by a searing pain in his stomach, Alex realized he needed a doctor. Staggering to his feet, he gripped the doorjamb and slowly made his way into the main living area of his trailer. As he got closer to the door, he started to feel lightheaded.
Before he hit the ground, he hoped Scott wouldn't be too pissed at him...but it looked like they weren't going to make that dinner.
Alex opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as the bright overhead lights burned his vision. Finally after adjusting, he saw Scott reclining in a chair by his bed. He was asleep.
Looking around his surroundings, Alex realized he was in the hospital. He saw his left arm was connected to an IV and there was some sort of monitor hooked up to his stomach. All this for a little food poisoning?
Suddenly Scott woke up and glanced over at him, his face tinged with concern as he saw Alex was also awake.
“How you feeling, babe?” he asked quietly.
Alex pondered the question. He did feel a little bit better. At least his stomach seemed to have settled down and he no longer felt lightheaded.
He answered, “Better than this afternoon. How long have I been here?”
“About three hours. You were in and out of consciousness for most of it. You had me worried.”
Alex smiled slightly at Scott's response. His boyfriend was a mother hen on good days and on bad, he was an obnoxious helicopter mother on steroids. “Sorry. Did they have to shut down production?”
“Nah. They moved the schedule around. They're shooting some of Grace and Daniel's scenes instead. Don't worry about the show, babe, it'll be fine without you. You gotta focus on getting better.”
“So did I eat something bad? Stomach flu? What was this?” Alex inquired.
Scott shook his head and shrugged. “I don't know yet. They did a whole bunch of tests, but wouldn't tell me what was wrong. They said I wasn't next of kin so they kept me in the dark. Needless to say, I wasn't too happy about that.”
Alex laughed, but then stopped quickly as the movement jarred his still sensitive stomach. He could only imagine his boyfriend's antics when told he wasn't allowed to know Alex's condition.
“Were the cops involved and are you going to wind up on Page Six again?” Alex joked.
“Hardee-har-har. No, the police were not involved and I kept my calm. I have been known on occasion to be cool-headed.”
“Really? When?”
Scott stuttered, “I am not a hot-head. Need I remind you-”
Their banter was interrupted by the arrival of a thin red-headed man who introduced himself as Doctor Doolittle.
At that Scott and Alex tried to hide mutual snickers and stared at each other in disbelief.
The doctor looked bored. “Yes, I've heard all the jokes. Moving along.”
“Mr. O'Loughlin, glad to see you're awake.” He then shined a light into Alex's eyes and noted the response on his chart.
“So what's the verdict, Doc? Food poisoning? Stomach bug?” Scott asked.
The doctor looked uncomfortable. Finally he said, “I'd really like to discuss your condition in private, Mr. O'Loughlin.” He glanced in Scott's direction.
Alex sighed in exasperation. “Dr. Doolittle, anything you say you can say in front of Scott. He's not just my co-worker, he's my partner.”
A light seemed to go off in the doctor's eyes and he exclaimed, “Oh. Okay. That's just perfect that he's here then.”
He continued, “But to answer your partner's question. No you don't have food poisoning or the stomach flu. It's something a little more serious.”
“Serious.” Alex swallowed hard. Cancer? Brain tumor?
“What is it?” He asked as Scott took the hand not hooked up to the IV and squeezed tightly conveying his support without words.
The doctor pulled out what looked to be an x-ray from his chart and held it up in the light.
“See that?”
“What?” Alex and Scott asked together, clueless to what was in the x-ray.
“This is a sonogram image and that is a mass attached to your stomach lining, Mr. O'Loughlin.”
Dear Lord, he had a tumor. He stared into Scott's face in fear.
“So I have cancer?”
The doctor looked shocked. “No. Where did you ever get that idea? No, the mass is not cancer, I'm sorry if I led you to believe it was.”
Alex sighed in relief. “Then what is it?”
“That, gentlemen, is your baby.”