The air of the morning was crisp, chilled with many bodies pushing past on the loud streets. Ned was held in Conor's arms, peering at all the people as they passed. Conor hummed an unnamed tune, pushing past and on the way to the college. "Think we'll bump into Daddy?"

"Probably not. He never enjoyed rugby." Ned nodded in understanding, fiddling in Conor's arms with a keychain they'd bought a couple of minutes prior. Ned had wanted something to remind him of his other parent, so they bought a keychain sporting the college's logo. When they came closer to the crowded stands, Conor put the boy down and told him to follow closely. Within seconds, a uncaring student accidentally pushed Ned over and once he'd gotten up he couldn't find his father in the crowd of people. He ran and searched around, until a familiar voice asked him, "Where's Conor?" Little Ned looked up to see the comforting presence, but even so, his eyes welled up with tears.

I.T had taken Conor a minute to realize that his child wasn't by his side because he had been fiddling with his wallet to get to some money to buy drinks, but by that point I.T was too late. Immediately, he felt his hands become clammy and his throat become dry like the Saharan desert. He pushed around the college kids, looking for any sign of Ned.

Little Ned stared up, eyes filled with blurring tears, and out of fear grasped onto Ned's leg. Ned almost toppled over out of not expecting the force, but then quickly recouped. "Hey, it's okay. We'll find him." Ned said, looking around the crowd for any signs of the tall boy. Ned picked his, unbeknownst to him, son up and carried him through the crowds as they peered around. Finally, they saw Conor frantically searching around and yelled to get his attention.

At the two squeaky voices screaming his name, he turned and felt his heart beat again like I.T had stopped. Running over, he stole his son from Ned and held him close. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, buddy. I.T won't happen again. I.T hasn't before and I.T won't again, this was a fluke."

"It's never happened?" Ned interjected, "Really? I used to get lost all the time in stores." Ned laughed, then looked at the boy's small wrist and remembered why he couldn't be left alone. "Oh."

"Yeah, and severe asthma." Conor chuckled, then looked more into the prospect of what was occurring. "What're you doing here?"

"I go to school here. I'm pretty sure you knew that."

"No, at a rugby game?"

"Oh," Ned nervously shifted, "My boyfriend is on the rugby team." Even after such a long time of denying any feelings for Ned or even of seeing Ned, Conor felt a small crack from deep within his heart. Maybe, if he'd listened closer he could've heard the noise of shattering, as the tiny crack that had been left from Ned disappearing, then from him forgetting about their relations grew. "He's number twenty six. Watch out for him."

"Right." Conor turned to continue on to the stands.

"Hey, why don't we sit together. We probably have plenty to catch up on."

Conor moves awkward back towards Ned, "Yeah. Probably."

***

There was plenty of awkward silence, more on Conor's part, but they had continuously chatted on topics they'd cared about long ago. "Basically, now I can play every chord on a guitar. Not just D." Conor smiled at Ned's cheekiness, and Little Ned looked in awe at his father. Reaching into his pocket, Ned pulled out his wallet and fumbled through the mess to get to his cash. "I'm going to buy a drink at the concession. If you guys want anything I'll bring I.T here for you...but I'd buy yours with your money. I'm a broke college student."He laughed, then a crumpled of paper was heard and Conor looked down at Ned's feet to see that a picture had dropped onto the ground.

"Just one picture."

"No. I do not like pictures."

"Right, but I just won a big game and you're my closest mate so that overpowers I.T." Ned glared at Conor, then turned to smile at Conor's phone that he had lifted to get both of them in the picture. "See, I.T wasn't so bad."

"Wasn't too good either." Ned cracked, " But, I suppose you're the star of the night. I mean, really, I might know jack shit about rugby but I've never seen a player move like that."

"Well, I owe I.T to you." Conor smiled, lightly hitting Ned with his elbow. Sitting on that chair, surrounded by people in the pub including the rest of the rugby team, they stayed secluded.

"Don't go all sentimental on me now." Ned reciprocated with a cheeky grin. "To two rockstars." Ned raised his glass, Conor repeated his wording with a smile that could've lit up the streets of a dreary night, then they hit their glasses together with clink.

Conor stared in awe, then grabbed at the picture before Ned could—looking at the detailed memory of the night that their son had been conceived. Ned tried to grab it away from him, but failed. The crowd screamed due to their team scoring a try, but Ned and Conor seemed to be trapped in their own reality. "I remember everything about that night. I mean, I won't reiterate I.T here, in front of the kid. But, I remember I.T all." Ned stared at the photo in Conor's shaky hand. "We made a mistake and I.T was one night, but apparently too much alcohol can cause some to go into a coma if their body reacts weird. Not so surprisingly, mine did. Although, you already knew that." Ned sullenly claimed, Conor looking at him in disbelief.

"We have to go." Conor pulled little Ned up and pushed forcefully past Ned.

"Wait, Dad, what-" Ned spilled, looking confusedly up at his father for an explanation. His voice was airy and his grip on Conor's hand became looser as Conor dragged him through the lane of the stand. After a moment, the grip had slipped away and Ned hit the metal, posing like a body's taped outline figure.

"Ned?" Conor kneeled down in the narrow space, lightly shaking his sons shoulders. "Ned. Come on, buddy." Conor have reassurance, then picked up the boy's heart monitor. The monitor read nothing. "No. No. No. Ned, wake up." Conor lifted him up, feeling the cold body close to him, quickly being brought to tears which he hadn't been in so long. "Someon, call an ambulance. Please! Please." Conor begged, the boy remaining limp—dead weight— in his arms.

A mother, understanding how he must feel, quickly dialed and called for an ambulance as soon as possible. Ned stood up, standing there in shock a couple of yards away from Conor. "How're you not mortified?" Conor asked like a plead, almost forgetting that Ned only remembered the night. Conor held Ned protectively, each second feeling like an infinity in his own personal hell.

***

A red cast was shining on the waiting room of the hospital, Conor sat multiple seats away from Ned. He'd been staring into space for almost an hour. Little Ned's pulse wasn't gone, but I.T had dropped to low to show up on the monitor. He was in surgery removing a blood clot, and Conor couldn't look at Ned. "Conor?" Ned spoke softly, as if he was afraid to break Conor. "I know you won't want to talk about this either, but I.T might help to occupy your mind." Conor glances in Ned's direction, "What happened in that time that I was out? I woke up, and I.T seemed that my whole world had changed. My dad thought I ran away, you disappeared, I couldn't go back to the school. I just-"

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" Conor sneered, "Asking me that now. My son is in surgery. And, to answer a small bit, he wasn't adopted but the other parent didn't remember him after having him so I have custody. I didn't choose to be a father of a four year old at twenty." Conor retorted with a bit of sourness, then considered, "Although, maybe I.T would've been best if I'd have given him up."

"Conor!"

"What? I'm a terrible father. I'm worse than my dad."

"How?"

Conor hesitates, "Because I only put him first ninety percent of the time, so the other ten is up in the air. That's what this happened. I was too angry to worry about my own child." He stared into space, then seemed to snap back, "Whereas, after I came out, my father gave near to no attention so I had no hopes for any."

"That's not being a bad father. That's being a father. You're gonna make mistakes sometimes." Ned consoled, looking at his old friend.

"Just-let's change the subject."

Ned paused, as if he was scrolling through a mental catalog of available topics, "Well, I have a weird think to say," Conor's face told that if was a cat his ears would have just perked up, "But it's a topic. I've been feeling sick in the morning and I've throw up repeatedly. I always feel full but keep eating. Plus, for some reason I hate pickles. There's not reasoning I just do. I think my senses are whacked out, and I don't know what that could mean."

Conor's skin became the shade canvas untouched by paint, he stopped moving his fingers, his eyes stayed positioned looking at one chair. "Get an ultrasound done." Connor spat, becoming oddly jealous.

"What bollocks are you spewing? Why would I need that?"

"When you went into a coma they going you had a non-cancerous tumor that could become cancerous in the future." Conor spewed nonsense to convince him. "So, they told that if you ever experienced symptoms then get an ultrasound to check the tumor."

"Right. Well, while I'm here I guess why not." Ned said darkly, leaving the chair and beginning to trudge away before Conor pulled on his wrist to keep him back.

"I'll come support you. Just Incase."

***

"Have you ever had an ultrasound done?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but who knows?"

"There's nothing in the medical records about a tumor, but I.T may have accidentally gone undocumented." The doctor readied the machine, Ned laid down staring a bit grimly at the ceiling. Conor stood next to him, nervously looking at every spect of the equipment. "This May feel a bit cold."

The man placed the stick on his stomach and rubbed until he saw...something. He squinted at the screen then, without warning, rose and left the quiet room. Ned turned towards Conor, then towards the ceiling once again.

He returned with a needle and tubes to take Ned's blood with and said, "Because of the circumstances we'll have this processed immediately." Then, vanished again.

A pit formed deep within Conor, of jealousy and worry and pity. Ned didn't speak. The man returned within a few moments, looking troubled at the clipboard. "He's pregnant." Conor spoke blankly, Ned looking angrily and accusingly towards him.

"How did you-" The man stopped after realizing, "You! I knew I remembered you. You were the one who had the son."

"You gave birth to Ned?" Ned cocked his head that way and Conor looked frustrated, but went along.

"Yeah. I did."

"Well, no. He's not pregnant. There's nothing obviously wrong, so just keep an eye on these symptoms. Especially, if this had occurred in the past."

***

Conor walked into the room, forgetting everything when he saw his sons sleepy face. "The anesthesia can make them say odd things, but the surgery went very well." Conor nodded his head, passing the nurse and taking a seat beside his son.

Conor took the boy's small hand in his own, Ned looking at him with a goofy smile. "Dad." He spoke, and Conor looked at him supportingly. "Smile. If you don't, then your teeth will disappear like the Toothless the dragon." Ned laughed out, causing Conor to give a toothy grin at his son's quirky sentence.

"Son, I just want to tell you that I will never prioritize anyone before you again. You are the most important person to me, and I'm so sorry." Conor held back tears in front of his son.

"You're the most important person to me, Dad." Conor's heart swelled with pride.

"Now, get some sleep. This has been a stressful day." Conor carefully got up, only then seeing Ned looking in on their conversation.

"Daddy?" Little Ned inquired, looking towards the tired ginger boy with helplessness. "Daddy, I once saw a penguin in a zoo and it was the size of a car."

Ned looked puzzled, then Conor pushed him out of the room and closed the door behind them. "Don't listen to him."

Ned shifted, staring at Conor's sweat jacket as if I.T were remotely interesting. "What was I.T like?"

"I don't know. Painful?" Conor responded, lifting his eyebrow as he considered I.T.

"Why didn't you say that before?"

"It's not important how he came into my life. Point is, he's here."

Ned looked up to Conor, "Four years ago? That means, I was in a coma when you went through that. I-"

"Don't apologize. You didn't choose to."

"Yeah, but I was angry when you first showed up because I thought you just didn't care enough to spend time with a sick boy. I just-"

"It's fine. I would've assumed the same." Conor rubbed Ned's shoulder, then turned and went to walk away. "Go to class. Aren't you a big time college kid now." Conor laughed, and Ned's eyes widened like he'd forgotten about a clas before he ran into the maze of hallways and rooms.

***

A few days later, Conor lifted little Ned out of his car seat in Mr. Sherry's car. The boy had slept the entire ride home, and only shifted when Conor moved him. Mr, Sherry slammed car of the parking garage and they all headed toward the apartment—Conor being especially careful with his pace. Ned laid his head on Conor's shoulder, feeling in his half-sleep that he had ruined his only chance of getting to know his other father. Considering, they planned on moving the next week because after years of saving Conor could finally afford to live on their own.

As they walked into the apartment, the familiar smell of overpriced candles and old carpeting filled their noses. Conor reaches his room, carefully placing Ned on his cot and tucking him in. Then, crawling slowly into bed. The moment he'd hit the bed, all emotions of the last few days seemed to pour out in a steady stream of salty tears. Trying to prevent too much sound, he curled up and tried to breathe properly.