Chapter Twenty Six

                                    

                                          
Louis POV
                          
"Eleanor Calder?" The nurse called from the front desk. I took Eleanor's hand as we followed the nurse into the pink hospital room for her checkup.
                          
"How are you doing today Miss Calder? Who's this with you?" The nurse questioned. "I'm alright. This is my boyfriend Louis." She smiled at the nurse. "Nice to meet you Louis. You've got a wonderful girl here. The doctor will be in with you two in a minute." She said before exiting. Eleanor was making herself comfortable on the awkward hospital bed, when I got a text from Harry.
                          
From Hazza: 
Hey Lou, is there any chance I can have the room to myself tonight? Michael's coming over...
                          
Of course Michael was coming over. I sighed frustrated, running my hands over my face. "What's wrong Louis?" El asked. "Nothing. Do you mind if I stay over yours tonight? I guess Harry and Michael need the room." I spoke bitterly. "Why are you letting it bother you babe? They're great together." She smiled. "Exactly." I muttered under my breath. Just then, the doctor walked in.
                          
"Good afternoon Miss Calder! Are we ready to find out the gender of your little one?" She smiled enthusiastically. "Yes, I am." Eleanor sighed relieved. The doctor sat in the chair next to the bed, before lifting Eleanor's shirt and applying a weird blue gel to her baby bump.
                          
The doctor waived a wand over her belly for a few moments, the only sound being the adorable heartbeat coming from my baby. "Alright, there's your baby right there!" She pointed to the screen. The baby was getting so big. "Ok here we are!" She spoke. "You see that right there? Congratulations you two, you're having a baby boy." She announced.
                          
A boy.
                          
She was having a boy.
                          
That's my son.
                          
Flashback
                          
"Hey Dad? Can I talk to you for a second?" I asked my Father where he sat in his chair watching football. "What do you want Louis? The game's on." He muttered taking another sip of his beer.
                          
"Well, I was just wondering, since it's summer can my friend Harry come stay with us for a week? He lives in Holmes Chapel." I stuttered out afraid of his reaction.
                          
"Harry huh? Who's he?" He asked. "He's my best friend from school. He's really cool Dad. He's 15, he's super tall, and he's like really good at music. I mean really good...you should hear his voice! I miss him a lot so I was hoping-" I began. "Sounds like you have some kind of faggot crush on him or something." He scoffed, taking another sip.
                          
"I do." I spoke, wavering away slightly.
                          
"You better be fucking joking with me right now." He placed his beer down, and sat upright facing me. "I'm not. Dad, please don't hate me. I'm not gay, really...I don't think. I just kind of really like Harry. I think you'd like him too actually." I stuttered, twiddling my thumbs. "Like him?!? No son of mine is a faggot!" He screamed, now standing in my face.
                          
That was that. Fifteen minutes, two concerned neighbors, three police officers, six broken bones and ten days in a hospital bed later, and my father was arrested and placed in jail for the attempted murder of his seventeen year old son.
                          
Since that hot July afternoon, I vowed to one day be a better father than mine ever was to me.
                          
End Flashback
                          
"Alright you two, here's a new picture of your son. Congratulations and we will see you next week Miss Calder." The doctor said, handing us the newly printed sonogram.
                          
I took the small picture in my hands and admired my adorable son for what seemed like an eternity. I glanced over to find Eleanor silently sobbing, whilst looking at her small bump. 
                          
"What wrong El?" I asked, grabbing her small hand. "Lou. I'm going to give him up for adoption." She sniffled out, peering up at me bravely. It was then that I felt my world shatter. 
                          
"What? El-no what are you talking about?! You can't give him up!" I panicked, tears rimming my eyes. "I have to Louis. I need to do what's best for him...and for me. I had plans after school! I was going to move to New York and work in fashion. New York City is no place to raise a baby Louis! Then there's you!" She raised her voice. 
                          
"Me?! What the fuck El! I'm here, I've been here since the beginning and I'm not going anywhere! What's this New York shit? You haven't even told me about this!" I yelled back. "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you Lewis because every fucking second I glance over at you all I can see is a sad homosexual who wants nothing more than to fuck his roommate!" She screamed, and by now I knew the whole hospital floor probably heard her loud mouth. 
                          
"So that's what this is about." I scoffed. "Yeah Louis. That's what this is about. I can't start a family with a gay guy who's in love with someone else." She whispered, wiping her tears. "I'm giving him up. I need to go to New York, and I can't raise him alone knowing that every time I look in his undoubtedly blue eyes I will see the man I once loved, who never really loved me back." She cried once more. 
                          
"Let me do it." I spoke sternly. "What?" She asked baffled. "Let me raise him. Give up your rights, and I'll raise him myself." I continued. "That's stupid Louis...you have a future, plans, let him be with people who will love and cherish him." She spoke. 
                          
"Eleanor. That baby is my future. He is my plan. He became my everything, my responsibility the second I made the decision not to wear a condom. He is my son, and nobody will ever love and cherish him more than I can." I whispered, a single tear falling from my eyes. "Please." I finished. 
                          
"Ok." She answered. "Ok Lou, he's yours." She took my hand. "Thank you El." I stood up, and kissed her forehead before exiting the room to take a walk and clear my head. 
                          
So that was it. I was now facing the reality that I would be a single father, and somehow that was okay with me, because I loved him already.
                          
I sank into one of the ugly wall lined chairs, collapsing my head in my hands. Taking deep breaths, I suddenly became aware of my hospital surroundings. I had somehow found my way into the pediatric oncology center, and became focused on the small, bald, yet beautiful little girl sitting with her mom a few chairs down.
                          
I couldn't begin to imagine the pain that a parent must feel having to go through something like their child having cancer. Imagine bringing something so perfect and beautiful into this world, only to have it ripped from your grasp far too soon. I hoped and prayed that I would never have to endure that. That my baby boy would be perfectly healthy for as long as I lived. 
                          
I suddenly heard a conversation around the corner of a Doctor talking to what seemed like one of his pediatric patients. "I think it's best we start putting you on chemo now. If you continue to deny it, I'm afraid you only have a little while left." The Doctor spoke boldly to the poor kid. Ouch. 
                          
"I don't want it! I'm sorry but when my time is up that's it. Just let me live whatever time I have left happy!" The teenage voice shouted back at the doctor. I stood up quickly, trying to wrap my head around what I just heard.
                          
This teenage boy had cancer and was refusing treatment. He only had a little time left, according to the Doctor. What really got me though? This teenage boys voice; I would recognize that accent anywhere. 
                          
I stood in shock in the cold oncology corridor just as Michael Clifford rounded the corner, tears fresh in his pale green eyes. He stared at me blankly, mouth agape in a silent plea. 
                          
"You have to tell him." I sadly demanded. "I know." He whispered, a tear falling from his eye, as he disappeared down the hospital hallway.