| This  choice:  "Where's my family? I want to see my family."  •  Go Back...Chapter #6"Where's my family? I want to see my fa...by: Wassel    "Where's my family?" you asked. "I want to see my family." Despite your earlier dread, having never wanted to see them as much as you did right now. Knowing how much you'd missed and how worried they would be. ...Or at least you hoped they were and didn't see you as some kind of freak. Kind of feeling that way yourself.
 "Oh don't worry, they've been visiting you almost every single day," the doctor told you. "In fact, your father is outside in the waiting room right now. He wanted to be here when you awoke. To help get you up to speed with the, um... nature of things."
 
 "The nature of things?"
 
 "Yes, well, due to how upset you were the last time you woke,  we didn't feel it appropriate to overburden you with the full details of the procedure and what exactly it would mean for your future." The doctor taking a seat beside your bed then. "As previously mentioned, the transplant which saved your life was experimental and therefore was not officially sanctioned to be performed on humans yet." Not liking the sound of where this was going one bit. "Dr. Kerry and I...  Well, we had to choose between breaking the law to save you and your baby sister's life or letting you die, so we did what we thought was right. I hope you understand."
 
 "I... I do," you assured him. Recognizing the fact that you owed him and the other doctor everything. If it wasn't for them you'd be dead now. Just like your mom, and as unsettling as this whole thing was, at least you were still alive. At least you had that. Apologizing if you seemed in anyway ungrateful and promising not to do anything that would get either of them into trouble.
 
 "Well, I'm glad you feel that way, Tim," Saunders replied, forcing a smile. "I know you didn't ask for any of this, but there are some consequences you and your family are unfortunately going to have to deal with." Handing you a stack of papers from the clipboard he was carrying then.
 
 Leading you to ask, "What's this?"
 
 "It's a non-disclosure agreement," he explained. "In the interest of protecting ourselves, the assets of this hospital, and you and your family, you are going to have to fully assume the identity of Jennifer Connors, your mother." The doctor cleared his throat. "Son, I know this has to be last on the list things a teenage boy wants to hear, but before you get too worked up by the idea I want you to know that this simply means in public. How you and your family choose to handle this behind closed doors is entirely up to you. We just don't want any kind of media attention swarming about and I'm assuming neither do you."
 
 Ain't that the truth... you thought. Imagining that all the news stations would totally freak out over something like this. Picturing the headlines now; 'Teenage boy becomes his own mother and has to give birth to his little sister'. This last part making you cringe.
 
 "It isn't all doom and gloom though," Saunders continued. "Part of the contract stipulates that you'll be entitled to monetary compensation for your compliance. You won't be a millionaire by any means, but it should be more than enough to significantly increase the lifestyle of your family."
 
 Ignoring this incentive for now though (your life being more than just a number on a check) you had to ask, "What... What did the others say about this? David... Tabitha... My dad?"
 
 The doctor replying that all three of them had already agreed and signed the NDA a good month and a half a go. A revelation that, although to be expected (they did have a lot longer to process all this than you'd had) still felt rather crushing. Having not even waited for you to wake before seemingly signing your entire life away. Your very identity. At least in public. This naturally putting even more pressure on you to sign his agreement as well. Sighing, "And... And there's really no other choice? No other way out of this?"
 
 "No, Tim. I'm afraid not," said Saunders, sadly. "As far as the world is concerned, you died two months ago. They already held your funeral." The news that somewhere, your body was dead and buried, hitting you like a ton of bricks and causing that queasy feeling within your stomach to return. A stomach that the seemingly increased size of now made a whole lot more sense. Being seven months pregnant instead of five. Two months closer to the birth.
 
 Although a part of you wanted to tell him where to shove his deal, you knew fine well you could not. That this was how things had to be now, and so rather reluctantly you signed. Noticing as you did that you no longer possessed your usual chicken scratch, but instead your mother's much more refined script. The doctor informing you that this was a side effect of the surgery. Now having your mother's muscle memory as well as a much larger part of her brain attached to yours, meaning that you should be able to access her subconscious as well. "Which should help with day to day things, as well as convincing others that you really are her. It's quite remarkable really."
 
 Yeah, "remarkable"... you sarcastically thought. Not entirely sure you shared his enthusiasm. It only adding to the overall weirdness. Praying that you didn't actually start thinking and acting like her too?
 
 Sensing this, Saunders placed a hand on your shoulder and told you to "hang on in there". Offering his and Dr. Kerry's services for anything you might need. "...In addition to your regular check ups of course."
 
 "You mean I can leave?" you asked. It kind of sounding like he was saying that. Feeling rather excited about getting away from these four stark hospital walls.
 
 "Yes, of course," he chuckled. "As I said before, you are in perfect physical health and we've already ran all the tests we need." Taking the NDA back off you again as he got up. "Now would you like me to send your father in? I imagine you're eager to get going."
 
 "Yes, please," you nodded. Figuring that the sooner you were out of here the better.
 
 Telling you to take care of yourself, he shook your now slim, feminine hand (having barely had time to notice the half inch long fingernails that now adorned them) and told you he'd see you soon, before turning then to leave. The thought of seeing your father again exciting you greatly. Really needing to see a familiar and friendly face right now after what you'd just been through. Sighing that document having been most unpleasant indeed.
 
 ...Or at least you had felt excited. That was until you heard another knock on the door a few minutes later. Your nerves suddenly getting the best of you as you worried how exactly he was going to react on seeing you now. Would he see you, Tim Connors, his son? Or would he only see Jennifer Connors, his wife? The latter disturbing you greatly. Knowing full well however that no matter how he looked upon you now, technically, as well as legally, you were his wife. You were the mother of his unborn child. It being so damn wrong and creepy for words. Silently lamenting, Oh no, as the door suddenly opened and in he came...
 
 "Tim!" he immediately called out to you, wearing a joyful smile as he hurried towards you. Having zero time to react before he'd leaned in and warmly embraced your body. Being noticeably larger than you now. "I'm so glad you're alright, son."
 
 Hearing this, relief instantly washed over you. Your fears being assuaged. Son, you thought. I'm his son.
 
 Slowly, he released you from the hug, taking the seat previously occupied by Dr. Saunders. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
 
 You shrugged. "I... I don't know, Dad. Okay, I guess." Pretty much saying the exact same thing to him as you had to the doctor. It definitely feeling strange talking to him like this, with your mom's face and body, but you soldiered on. "This whole thing is just so fucking crazy..." Pausing then as you watched him shake his head. "Sorry."
 
 "That's alright, Tim. No need to apologize. You're an adult now," he told you, "You can say whatever you want!" Obviously trying to make light of the situation. It being a little awkward, but you did appreciate the attempt.
 
 "So... where's Tabitha and David?"
 
 "They're in school. School's back in session," he explained.
 
 "So much for my summer break," you joked weakly. Your dad gave a forced laugh. "Um... are they handling things okay? You know, about my situation and all?"
 
 "Well, losing your mother has been hard on us all, Tim," he explained, palming the back of his neck. "We all miss her. And you. David's been his usual less than talkative self. Spending a lot of time at his girlfriend's. But Tabitha at least seems like she's adjusting pretty well. She's even volunteered her services to teach you all about, um...", he paused uncomfortably, "...being a woman. And we also looked out plenty of literature for you about the pregnancy. You know, to get you up to speed. I know that part is going to be particularity tough on you and I'm real sorry it had to be this way."
 
 "Yeah..." you muttered. Tough not really being the word. Gazing down again at the huge bulge pushing out from beneath your hospital gown. Still not wanting to think about that right now. Asking instead, "How, uh, how was my funeral?" Never imagining that'd be a question you'd actually be alive to hear.
 
 
 
 **Based on an original chapter add by enigma (UN: fused36 at Writing.Com).**
|   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. | 
 | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed  to these: |