2. Foxie

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The next day, January 1st 1993, 11:12am, the home:

Alan sat in the living room alone, terribly bored, for Dave had not yet woken up. Having chosen to let him sleep in following the night out they'd had, during which he had not been his usual self, Alan had spent his morning looking after the house as well as their cat, Foxie. Once all was complete, however, he was left feeling clueless as to what to do or where to go next. Part of him was hopeful that Dave would've been woken by the commotion downstairs, as he was normally a light sleeper. But today, that seemed to not be the case; he never stirred.
Thus, there he was now. Waiting. Waiting for the day to truly start as, for him, it did when he saw his lover's face.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Twenty minutes later, 11:32am, the bedroom:

Feeling the gentle tap of Foxie's paws coming into contact with his bare arm, Dave made small grunting and cooing noises as he began to finally wake. He yawned, feeling incapable of opening his eyes as that moment.
"Foxie," He whined, warranting her to move to the opposite side of the bed. "What time even is it?" He then asked outloud, though he knew he wouldn't be receiving an answer.
Upon a slow blinking open of his eyes, they met with the clock on the bedroom wall and he saw where the big hand and little hand lied.
"Oh, Jesus." He exclaimed, pushing the duvet off of himself and clambering out of bed.
After finding some clothes to put on that just reached adequacy for him, he began walking downstairs to greet his partner, with Foxie following closely behind.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Five minutes later, 11:42am, the kitchen:

"Morning," Dave yawned, entering the kitchen where Alan was now washing dishes.
Alan turned around with a smile, drying his hands with a teatowel.
"Good morning, baby." He pecked him on the cheek. "How did you sleep?"
"Oh, wonderfully, but you should've come and got me, look at the time!" His partner replied while he rubbed his forehead.
"It doesn't matter, it's new year's day; it's not like anyone's got anywhere to be." He laughed. "Anyway, are you feeling better after last night?"
And Dave froze, not at all remembering what it was Alan was referring to.
"What- What about last night?"
"... You know, you weren't too well... And you weren't drinking either, so we were all rather puzzled."
Dave didn't feel puzzled at all. In actuality, he knew the exact reason for his behaviour the night prior. His face fell, and Alan noticed it.
"What's wrong, Dave?" He brought him closer, prepared to embrace him.
"I..."
"Has something happened? Or has someone said something? Did I say something?"
"No, no and no."
"Okay. Is there something you're not telling me?"
Dave hated that question. Hated it with a burning passion. Trying to think of an answer made him feel ill again and his heart jumped into his throat.
"Baby, you've gone pale again."
Nothing.
"I need to ring the out of hours docto-"
"No."
"Why not?" Alan stood stunned and more confused than ever.
"I'm fine, I just... need to talk to you." Dave finally mustered.
"About what?"
"Last night, and right now and just, everything. Can we sit down though, please?"
"Absolutely, my love. Do you want anything though? Some water, or?"
"I'll be OK."
"Alright, if you're sure."
The two of them walked through to the living room, Alan keeping a firm grip on Dave's shoulders to affirm a sense of safety.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Six minutes later, 12:00pm, the living room:

Silence filled the room as the two of them sat across from eachother on the couch. Regret overwhelmed Dave's mind, knowing that he had been keeping something from Alan and there was nothing Alan hated more than just that.
But he had just needed time; time to process, time to understand, yet he had made no time to prepare himself for what he knew he would have to let loose from his lips.
He let out a big sigh, before blurting out "I don't know what to do."
"What'd you mean?" Alan was relieved to have had the silence broken at last. "You're really worrying me."
"I'm not trying to." His partner replied quickly. "You don't understand, I- I just-"
"Dave, if something's wrong, you've got to tell me." Alan emphasised. "Please. I'm so, so fucking worried about you, it's driving me mad."
"But you don't understand-"
"I'm not going to understand until you tell me!"
Not wanting to frustrate his lover any further, Dave took one more deep breath and gave himself permission to improvise.
"I- I was acting so weird last night, you know, saying no to you about a drink and not smoking, even though I REALLY could've gone for both of those things, because-"
Alan wanted to remain tight-lipped until Dave had finished his sentence, however he could see that he was struggling, so decided to help him along.
"Because...?"
Dave looked paler than ever, and as though he was choking on his words.
"In your own time, babe." His partner took hold of his hand as to provide him with comfort.
Another minute, another deep breath. One look into Alan's eyes lessening the anxiety enough for him to say it.
"... Because I'm pregnant."
The silence that once coated the room returned, and thicker and heavier than ever, for it included the absence of Alan's voice. Tears formed in Dave's eyes immediately; he knew what the news he had just delivered meant.
Nothing would ever be the same.
"Alan." He sniffled.
"Give me a minute." Alan got up at once and left the room, leaving him all alone.
Unbeknownst to Dave was that Alan had retreated himself back to the kitchen, where he leant over the counter, head in hands. He could now hear Dave crying from the living room, sending a wave of overwhelming guilt through him, but he could not bring himself to be at his side.
He wouldn't need to, after all, as Dave had soon followed him.
"Alan, please." He heard him beg. "I didn't mean to keep this from you, I was never-"
"You were right, I don't understand." He cut him off, turning around to look at him once more. "We always, ALWAYS did everything we could to avoid this."
"It clearly wasn't enough that time, was it?" Dave's tears began to turn from those of sadness to instead anger; he could feel an argument coming like that of a storm when a black cloud pollutes the normally blue skies.
"We can't have a baby."
"Why not?"
"Why do you think?"
"... I don't see any reason why we couldn't-"
"Then you're an idiot, Dave, because you're a fucking drug addict."
"I ca- I can get clean."
"Yeah right, you've said that hundreds of times and it's just been relapse after relapse."
Fresh tears rolled down Dave's face hearing Alan's words, each one hitting him like a thousand bricks.
"I can see you're upset, okay? And I'm sorry, you know I would never do anything to hurt you, Dave. But as upsetting as it might be to you, both of us know this isn't right. We can't have a baby." Alan began to lower his voice back down.
But Dave could no longer bear to make eye contact with him, instead looking at the ground.
"So what do I do?" He mumbled.
"I think the most sensible idea is to look into an abortion."
That word made the entirety of Dave's body shudder and his breathing stagger. Merely the idea of disposing of what had the potential to become a human being and their baby distressed him greatly. His brain felt like static and he could think of nothing more to say.
"I'm going for a cig." Alan told him with a sigh, bringing the altercation to an end.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~
One hour later, 1:37pm, the conservatory:

It was always the same after an argument. They would keep to themselves in separate rooms, and speak to eachother again once the aftermath had dissipated. Dave didn't know where Alan had decided to go, but it was not of his concern as he leaned back into one of their conservatory chairs. His eyes felt like burning splints and his head pounded from crying, and he could hear only the faint howling of the January wind on the other side of the glass.
All of a sudden, he heard the faint miaow of Foxie as she shoved one of her paws through the catflap, signalling for him to open the door.
Foxie's presence always brought a smile back to Dave's face; he got up and walked over to the door, opening it and allowing his feline companion into the conservatory with him.
"You're a big girl, aren't you?" He bent down and picked her up, for the warmth of her auburn fur brought him immense comfort. "Have we been feeding you too much, hey? You can't even fit through the catflap!" He giggled, briefly forgetting about the argument.
He then walked back over to the chair and sat down with Foxie remaining in his lap. She purred away, affectionately rubbing her head on Dave's hand, before beginning her kneading motion with her paws. Her razor sharp claws would normally be on show as she knead but, this time, she seemed particular and careful. Dave noticed she was focusing heavily on kneading his stomach.
"You never knead there." His voice cracked, still croaky from tears. "You just know, don't you? You're so clever, Foxie."

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