It has been almost two whole months since Ryan told William. In the process Ryan has learned to forgive Pete (but refuses to be near him or even in the same room as him and he sure as hell won't let him around the baby), Hobo became a permanent member of the household (William eventually grew attached to her and sometimes even lets her sleep in their bed), Ryan decided Hobo looked lonely so he went out and got another dog (to which William named Shotgun. Pure genius.), and Ryan also decided that maybe he was going to have to start thinking of names soon. Soon, but not too soon.
William found a hospital in New Jersey that supposedly had the best physicians anyone could ask for and practically demanded Ryan went until the baby was born. They both had searched for apartments online for God knows how long and called Spencer to watch the dogs for them.
Ryan sighs after placing the last of his belongings he was bringing with him in a box. William told him to bring whatever he needed to feel comfortable, so that pretty much meant almost the entire room. Of course, they'd have to repack when Ryan has his child, then bring it all back, and unpack it again. Fun times were in store for him, fun times indeed.
He calls for William to tell him that he's ready to go before taking a look around the room. It looks so bare. So not lived in. Ryan doesn't like it at all. He glances over at the clock and groans when he realizes what time it is.
Luckily for him, they have to leave at the absolute ungodly hour of 7:30. Oh joy. All Ryan has to do now was pray to whatever was up there that he doesn't get sick whilst in the air. Not only was he experiencing morning sickness, but but he has never been great on planes. Ryan hates puking (This has been mentioned before). He was skinny enough as it was and puking only made you skinnier. Plus it always tasted horrible, which makes him want to puke more, which is obviously never pleasant.
William walks up the stairs and hands Ryan his jacket, not before running his fingertips across Ryan's stomach (and Ryan can swear he can feel William's heartbeat just from the small contact). Ryan almost growls at William, who laughs and kisses his forehead before heading back downstairs to start the car.
The flight from Las Vegas to Atlantic City is 14 (give or take a few) excruciating hours of William's headphones being too loud and some kid kicking Ryan's chair every five minutes. He was absolutely exhausted. Although, he was happy to be on the ground again. The nice, stable ground where there's no babies crying or kangaroo kids or fat tourists crowding the aisle way. He has puked a total of three times by now. Three. Fucking. Times. The taste of regurgitated airplane food is still stuck in his mouth and he longs for a hot, relaxing shower. He definitely wasn't in the mood to be out in public, so a crowded airport wasn't the place for him right now. But at least, there was a coffee shop that sold Iced Cappuccinos. At of all the things Ryan hated, Starbucks was not one of them. In fact, he could say he was in love with Starbucks. Well he would love anything that gets the taste of disgusting vomit out of his mouth.
By the time they get to the hospital Ryan is worn out, leaning into William when he walks up the stairs, and ready for sleep. They settle down in the blue chairs of the waiting room. They're hard, they're made of plastic, and they have no arms, but at the moment they're the most comfortable thing Ryan feels like he's ever sat in.
"Ryan," William strokes his hair and shakes him awake. Ryan 'hmm's to show (even though he's half asleep) he's listening and realizes that he's been sleeping on William's shoulder this whole time and maybe that's why he's so comfortable, "come on." William had called in advanced and explained their situation. No questions were asked, but they promised Ryan would get the best doctor there was. William stood up first, making sure to steady the younger so he wouldn't fall into the way or something on the way back to the room.