Uhh, I don't know what to add. I hope you like this chapter. XD Pleases and thank you's. Thank you for all these reviewers and alerters. Let's get into 100 reviews.^^ Warnings and disclaimers apply to this chapter. This is unbeta'd. Sorry for mistakes, hope it's still readable. NEW CALENDER NEXT CHAPTER.


Sixteen and Pregnant


Chapter Twelve: Pain


"Stan, are you okay?" Kenny asked for the umpteenth time during their shared third period. Stan nodded, trying to hide his grimace. He sent a smile in Kenny's direction to reassure the blond. Kenny returned the smile and continued to watch Finding Nemo (their teacher had put it on for their last day in school). Once Stan was sure Kenny's total attention was on the movie, he let his face fall. His hand crept up his shirt and began rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

Truthfully, he wasn't okay. For a few days he had been experiencing bouts of pain near his lower back. Not to mention he had been spotting a bit heavily lately, so he'd been force to be return to that damn maxi-pad. He still hadn't gotten around to telling his mother that he had period. As far as she was concerned Stan was an extremely rare hermaphrodite. In which case, instead of having a vagina (alongside a dick), long hair, and effeminate features, he was gifted with a fully-functioning uterus. Stan wished it were that simple.

Stan groaned in the dark as a stab of pain shot at him. "Oh," he mumbled under his breath, his fingertips doing little to alleviate the pain. The dark brunet resigned himself to just wait until next period, where he would go to the clinic for an icy hot and possibly bribe the nurse into giving him some aspirin. His hand limply fell to his side. His leaned forward, putting his head on the task, waiting for the class to be over.

Few seconds passed when he felt a cool hand under his shirt. It took everything in him not to jump straight up. He glanced at Kenny whom only winked, rubbing where Stan had, and doing a much better job. "You don't have to do this," Stan whispered.

"On the contrary, Stanny, why didn't you tell me you were in pain?"

Stan shrugged. "I didn't feel like bothering you. I'm not a helpless person. I can take care of myself."

Kenny nodded. "True, but you should tell me, especially, when you're carrying our daughter. Your safety and her safety matter."

Stan shook his head, a soft smile curling on his lips. Damn Kenny for being such a caring guy. "Speaking of our daughter, we haven't thought of any names for her." Kenny's hands stopped at the mention of it. Stan imagined the blond wore a serious expression, seriously thinking about the topic or maybe he thought it was silly. Perhaps, it was too early for such a thought. Stan fidgeted at the awkward silence. "Forget it. We don–,"

"Not so fast, I think we should name our daughter something that starts with a K for my name and her middle name should be something that begins with S. Also, since I'm the daddy, her surname would be McCormick."

"Whoa," Stan perked up, glaring at Kenny. "How come her first name has to start with a K, why not an S, and secondly, who says, it has to McCormick! I'm the one carrying her. I say Marsh for the last name." Kenny bristled as did Stan.

"I'm her father. Therefore she gets my last name. It's been that way for centuries. As for the name, it's a McCormick tradition, on my Mom's side, to name their children with K's. I did the S-thing for you," Kenny said. His eyebrows furrowed under his orange hood.

"Well, it's a Marsh tradition to name their children with an S, and I'm her father too." Stan crossed his arms. Just because he was carrying the baby did not mean he was any less of a man, goddammit.

"But you're the mommy in this. You are carrying her."

"Thank you for that, Kenny. That's even more leverage for me. I'm the one carrying her, so, I get to name her."

"Stan, stop being difficult! You can have her first name. I admit that I'm taking away some of your rights to name her too… but, I really want McCormick as my—our daughter's last name. Please…" Kenny stroked Stan back, glancing at the dark brunet from under his eyelashes.

Stan sighed, feeling the urge to pinch his nose. He could sense a headache creeping up on him, and the pain he was having near his lower back was starting to rise in level. He didn't have the energy to fight with Kenny about names any longer. For now, he would muster up a cordial smile. "We can decide names and everything when the due date gets closer. Agree?"

Kenny nodded rapidly. "Agree," he said softly.

Stan sent one more look over to the blond before readjusting himself in his plastic chair, and giving way to the movie.


Stan breathed in deeply, wincing at how his sides felt; they were extra sore and painful to even the lightest touch. He tried to slip his maternity shirt on as gently as possible. It seemed as if every movement he made hurt him in one way or another. The brunet grimaced… he hurt. Everything he did sent acute pains at his stomach. Gods, he couldn't wait for his weekly appointment at the clinic.

Stan opened his bedroom door, heading downstairs: one step at the time. This was becoming increasingly difficult. He needed a chair or something to get him downstairs without walking. Jesus Christ. Every fucking jostle… he took a calming breath rubbing his stomach. "Please calm down, baby," Stan tried to appeal to his stomach. "Daddy hurts," he groaned: one step, just one step, until he would finally be in his living room. He took one more step, gasping when he saw all the people seated in living room. His friends and friends of friends were all squashed onto the furniture. His mom, dad, and Kenny were standing in front wearing happy, but stretched grins.

Mismatched boxes sat on the single living table in a large tower. Streamers and balloons all colored a soft baby pink decorated the room; it was baby shower. He trudged toward the party, wearing a smile that mirrored his parents. "Wow, you guys…" his words slurred together: pain! He registered major pain in his stomach area.

He fell to his knees with a resounding thud, his heart beating madly in his chest, and blood roaring his ears. His sight was bespectacled with dark spots. He heard gasps of his name and people running to catch him. He couldn't get his words out. Excruciating agony was the only thing he felt! He tried, really he did, to keep his vision clear and to stay in the conscious world, but be couldn't. He clutched his stomach; falling into a sea of darkness.