Cut Ties (Paultryck Mpreg)

Part 5

((Hi, this one is long, might wanna reread everything to refresh your memory. Sorry it's been literally three years :"3 i didnt know anyone was still interested in this one until a few days ago))

"Hey Paul?"

The man in question hummed softly, turning to face Patryck. The Polish man was facing the closet still, but rather than getting dressed, he was perfectly motionless, his hand on his hanging coat. He sighed, thumbing the imprints on his name tag.

"...Mom thinks I should come home much sooner than I planned."

Paul sat up straighter at that. "How much are we talking?"

"She's saying as soon as possible, but I managed to push her back to next week."

Paul glanced at Clara's bed, thankful that she was still sound asleep. He was honestly surprised that the gasp he let out didn't wake her up.

"Why's she being so pushy?" Sure, Paul was more than happy to get his family out of the base, but Patryck's agreement with Tord stressed that he would be allowed to leave at seven months, no earlier. He was barely hitting six, but getting Tord to budge seemed like an impossible feat.

...Especially since Paul was still too nervous about getting permission to tag along yet. It felt like such a stupid problem to have, asking permission to go with his family, but this was a problem the Red Army hadn't had before.

Patryck finally let go of the coat, turning to face Paul with his arms tightly crossed. "I was on the phone with her, and I joked that holding it to my cheek hurt because of..." He broke out into mumbles, not wanting to remind himself of his cheek. "...She freaked out on me. She wants me out of here and away from Tord."

Paul agreed with her, but he knew he couldn't voice it. Patryck loved this job more than anything, and probably saw all of this this as an overreaction.

"She's acting like he's gonna break a table over my head..." Pat mumbled, turning back to his coat and shimmying it off the hanger. "I mean, he's on good terms with Clara, he's calming down, the threat is gone."

"But the cut is still there."

Patryck finished putting on his coat in silence, not bothering to face Paul as he did so. He smoothed the front of it before his hands slowed, falling to his sides with a small shift of fabric.

"Paul, I'm staying here. Tord needs us."

"Why can't we just go?" Paul blurted, his face tensing. He groaned, dropping his hands to his lap. "It's gonna be impossible juggling all of this bullshit once the baby gets here, I hate seeing you get hurt, and I'm stressing over your safety all the time! Why can't we just leave?"

Patryck turned around, running a hand through his hair as he let a weak laugh escape. "You're freaking out over nothing. It's only one more month, then we're with my mother." He paused, adjusting his coat nervously. "I'm not leaving when she wants me to, I'm leaving when I want to."

"Are you sure we can't haggle with Tord? Next week is only...three weeks before the original plan."

Patryck shook his head. "We're working on a very big project right now, I can't leave yet, even if I wanted to."

"Well...what is it?"

"Tord wanted to revisit an old experiment, but I-..." He paused, his voice lowering. "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Pat, I'm not gonna tell anybody, who do you think I am?"

Patryck huffed shortly, turning on his heel and slowly walking towards Clara's bed.