Chapter Text
Blue had gone stock still, the sound of Lime's rambling fading into the background as their vision starts to unfocus. All of their symptoms suddenly make so much sense, and Blue feels like the stupidest doctor in the Polus system.
How could they not figure out simple signs of pregnancy?
Blue is pregnant, and has been for this long without realizing it. The cramps that they'd felt had likely been their flower depositing the beans into their backpack after they'd grown large enough to need more space, which is why said backpack grew so noticeably afterwards. Blue wants to silently thank whatever higher being may exist that they didn't go through with taking their backpack off to check it, as it would've harmed or even killed the beans that had just moved there, depriving them of the necessary oxygen and nutrients that Blue's flower produced for them up until they were ready to emerge at around 22 weeks. Blue could have killed their beans by neglecting their health for this long.
No, not just their's — their's and Lime's.
Lime was going to be a parent and they didn't even know.
And Blue had no idea how to tell them.
“Blue? You here with me?”
They snap back to attention, Lime's visor only a few inches away from theirs.
“You were kinda... out of it. The worms gettin' to you?” Lime jokes, but the concern in their tone is clear.
“Lime- I-” Blue stammers, unsure of what to possibly respond with. Their hands instinctively want to go to rest against the sides of their backpack now that they know, but they stop themselves and put them away completely instead. “I'm going to be doing my scan. Promptly.”
“Great choice, Big Dog. You'll have to tell me what to do to help since I don't know–”
“No!” Blue shouts, body tensing. At Lime's shocked jump, Blue takes a deep breath, taking a small step away from their partner. “I'm sorry. It's just something I need to do myself. To ensure accuracy.” The explanation comes out hesitantly, and Lime isn't dumb by any means, so Blue can tell that they know that Blue is lying. “I love you, Lime. I promise you that I will be doing my scan, but it's something that I believe I want some privacy for.”
Lime sighs. “You've been acting so damn weird lately. If that scan shows something important, you tell me first, alright? You gotta promise that too.”
“...I promise. I'll tell you as soon as I'm able to.”
They nod, stepping forward and clinking their visor against Blue's. “I care about you more than you know, that means your health too. Especially when we're on a government owned ship probably filled to the brim with extraterrestrial life forms–”
“Lime.” Blue nudges their visors together again. “We're okay.”
“Whatever.” Lime shakes off their position, swiftly becoming flustered and separating themselves from Blue. “Holler if you need me. Or if a serial killer disguised as one of us gets in. The chances of it happening are never zero!”
Blue shakes their head at their partner's antics, letting out an amused exhale as they duck back down into their ventilation system instead of simply using the door. Once their telltale rattling in the vent fades out, Blue's posture slumps over, the weight against their back feeling ten times as heavy as it had before they knew. They had no idea how many they were even having, as typical litters can range from one up to five beans, and from how much their backpack has expanded it wouldn't be hard to believe it to be a larger group.
That's where the body scan will be helpful, at least. Now that they've descended from the flower, their bone will have begun growing in and would show up on the scan, allowing Blue to count how many there are. Hopefully they're in decent positions to be able to spot them all.
Before readying the scanner, Blue locks the door to the medbay and double-checks the vent, reassuring themselves that no one is going to be barging in to interrupt the process. Lime stayed fairly close — Blue could hear them banging around towards the electrical room, so if something were to go wrong, they'd be able to hear Blue scream and either come get them or alert Purple from the adjacent vent. While Blue didn't have the map of the vent blueprints, Lime informed them of enough so that they'd have a basic understanding of the ship's inner workings. They remember laughing over Lime telling them about their captain's gaming habit, as apparently there are two easily accessible vents into the cockpit.
The scanner whirs to life, its emerald light flickering and the screen on the wall blinking awake. Blue hasn't had to use it too many times, nonetheless on themselves, so they take an anxious breath before stepping onto the platform, listening to its rapid beeping once it registers their weight. From trying to stand still they only become more aware of their trembling legs, wishing that they could come anywhere as close to as good at soothing their anxiety as they were at calming down patients. Then again, this would be a major change in both them and Lime's life, and if the due date is accurate, Blue could very well still be on the ship when their babies are born as the only crewmate who knows anything about proper healthcare and delivery. Even if the ship gets to Industria in time, giving birth on a completely different planet doesn't sound too great either.
Blue's visor is filling with tears again as the scanner clicks off, and the new noise of the printer feeding paper through itself fills the space. They're not upset about the babies, they never could be — but why did it have to be now? On the ship, away from home, when them and Lime hadn't even properly discussed a family yet? They know that, realistically, Lime will be supportive of the pregnancy and the kids, but will they be happy? They've never been a fan of being around kids, calling them worse than gremlins, though Blue knows that Lime did grow up with several siblings. If anything, Lime should have more experience with taking care of children compared to Blue, who was born and raised an only child. Only later in Blue's life did they discover that their birth parent had a deformity in their flower, though it never stopped them from showing Blue the love that they had grown for the ones who came before but didn't make it. It's how Blue wants to care for their beans; with patience, compassion, and joy. They can only hope that maybe Lime will agree.
They end up waiting around twenty minutes, standing on the scanner and sucking in deep breaths before working up the courage to check the printer. On top lies the front of Blue's scan, showing a healthy inner bone and cartilage, as Blue already knew. The second paper beneath it would show Blue's back.
With a shaky inhale and even shakier hands, Blue slides the first sheet out of the way.
At a first glance, it looks typical. The backside of Blue's bone can be seen, just as bright and solid as the front, no disturbed cartilage or tumors — but Blue knows better, and they lean in for a closer look, observing the spot where their backpack rests. Even on the scan, the thickened tissue of it can be seen, another clear indication of what Blue is positive of, as the backpack will grow the needed inner cushioning in early stages of pregnancy. Amongst that tissue, minuscule this early on, are four white dots. The beginnings of four bones.
Blue stifles an elated sob.
Four babies, safe and healthy, developing in Blue's pack. They wouldn't even have their visors yet.
...Blue really can't suppress that sob for long.
They're having Lime's beans, four of them, all beautiful and growing well, ready to emerge in just over two month's time. They'll be stunning, likely coming out as different shades of either a combined teal or one of their parents' colors. Blue hopes that at least one will take after Lime's gorgeous color, which is likely, as with parents of a primary and tertiary color, the babies will tend to pick up the tertiary pigment easier. Primaries are a rare recessive gene, something that Blue was constantly told as a child and another reason why so many find them attractive, though Blue never found themselves caring much about things like that other than from a biological perspective. They couldn't care less if their children came out as primaries, secondaries, tertiaries, or achromatic. They'll all be loved either way, by Blue and–
Lime.
Blue has to tell Lime.
They fold up the second scan and put it in their coat pocket.
They'll tell Lime when the right time comes.