by Wolfe, H. M.
The assuring tone, the doctor, spoke in made the raven-haired man relax a little and to lay back on the bed. With gentle hands, Rayne started to touch him in different areas of the body, asking him from time to time if he felt any discomfort. After every answer, the doctor noted it down in a chart. The examination took about fifteen minutes, but to Daniel, it seemed an eternity.
”Well, as far as I could see, there's nothing wrong with you,” Rayne grinned. ”However,” he abandoned the relaxed attitude, replacing it with a professional one, ”I can't diagnose you based only on the physical examination, so I'll collect a blood sample from you to send it to New York General Hospital for a complete set of tests.”
”When will you have the results?” Daniel anxiously asked, while rolling the sleeve up to his elbow so that Rayne could collect the blood sample.
”Well, they work fast there, so I should have the information on Monday evening, if not earlier. If your gut feeling is right, we'll have more than one reason to celebrate,” the doctor smiled weakly.
”I know it's right. Great-Uncle Alastair calls it the Stark instinct,” Daniel grinned. ”For your information, he has the same feeling about the custody business.”
Rayne remembered the conversation he and the older of the Bloom heirs had then, while he was waiting in the corridor outside the hearing room, waiting to be called. He was flanked by Richard Benard, a specialist in divorces and custody cases, and Elliott, who insisted on representing him, too.
From the corner of his eye, Rayne saw his ex-husband, the great Conroy Winters himself, surrounded by a whole team of lawyers, all of them bursting with confidence and arrogance. Suddenly, Conroy left the group, heading straight to him.
”Hello, Rayne,” he said, the cold, intimidating smile the younger man knew too well playing on his lips, ”you are looking very well. I came with peaceful thoughts, so can I have a word with you? Alone,” he said, the coldness in his voice even more apparent.
”Sure,” Rayne smiled tiredly. ”See you in a few minutes, guys,” the doctor turned to the two lawyers then started to walk down the hall. ”What do you want, Conroy?” he asked a sudden coldness in his voice.
”Look, let's be realistic, you'll never have the boy. I won't let you have him, because I need the whiny little shit to control you. To keep your leash short. I always get what I want, you know that better than anyone, so why don't you quit while you still have the chance?”
”Listen, Conroy Winters,” Rayne hissed, his dark green eyes going almost black and narrowing dangerously, ”I let you play your dirty little game for too long, but now it's over. Today is the day I'll put you into the ground with my own two hands. Quitting? You don't know me, Winters. You don't have any idea who you messed with when you took my son away from me. Wait, see and learn, my friend!”
CHAPTER 35
The atmosphere in the courtroom was a heated one, with the lawyers of the two parties not losing any occasion to jump at each other's throats, like blood-thirsty beasts. The judge had already warned each team of attorneys, twice, even threatening to evict them from the courtroom, if they continued to act that way.
Every time the opponents cooled down, Conroy was there to rile them up again, throwing out an innocent remark his lawyers clung to, pointing to Rayne's flaws as a husband and parent for Gerrard. That was also the current case.
"Your Honor," Flint Cassidy, one of Conroy's lawyers spoke, "with all due respect, but Mister Calhoun, with his busy schedule, is not the best parent, as he doesn't have much time to spend in the company of his son."
"With all due respect for his professional competence, Your Honor. My distinguished colleague here, Mister Cassidy, seems to forget that his client is equally as busy, if not busier, than mine," Elliott intervened. "He wasn't concerned at all about Gerrard's well being or progress at school. All school reports are sent directly to my client, Doctor Calhoun.”
"Speaking about the child's well-being. Who was the one who paid for everything he needed, all these years? The food on his plate, the roof over his head, the clothes on his back, the expensive private school where he studied, the books he read, everything's paid for from Doctor Winters' pocket."
"And where did all that money came from, if not from the long hours' Doctor Calhoun spent in that lab, doing research, conducting experiments, combining substances, inventing new cures while his husband was attending fancy parties, taking credit he didn't deserve?" Richard Benard spat.
"Your Honor," Robert Dale, another attorney from Conroy's team, spoke, "my much younger colleague here seems to know exactly how certain things happened. Why is he so sure? Was he there?"
With a satisfied grin on his face, Conroy looked over his shoulder to where Rayne sat, his lips tightly sealed and a concentrated expression on his face. Doctor Winters was disappointed by his ex-husband's non-combat attitude, as he expected to see more aggressiveness after the little show he’d put on in the courthouse's hall.
Then again, once a scared, little mouse, always a scared, little mouse, Conroy huffed with arrogance. Although the man had to admit, Rayne had changed very much over the last year and a half, since he'd last seen him. The melancholic air he had, added a touch of mystery to the redhead's beautiful chiseled features, making him even more desirable. And that sexy, husky voice...
”Your Honor,” Rayne rose from his seat, starting to speak, ”with your permission, I would like to say a few words.”
"Please, Mister Calhoun," Judge Matthews said, "proceed."
"Thank you," the redhead dipped his head. "Over the last hour or so, all the people in this courtroom have assisted in a heated legal debate, designed to establish how fit of a parent I am for my son Gerrard. It is your job, Your Honor, to decide that, and I don't intend to influence in any way that decision. All I want to do is to publicly thank my ex-husband, Conroy, for making me the man I am today."
For a moment, everyone, the five attorneys included, stared at Rayne in disbelief. ”Cheap drama, Your Honor,” Flint Cassidy was the first to react.
“Counsellor Cassidy, show some respect, please," Judge Matthews coldly replied, "I don't recall Doctor Calhoun interrupting you, so I expect you do the same. Do continue, Doctor Calhoun."
"Thank you again, Your Honor," Rayne spoke in the same calm voice. "When I met Conroy, I naively fell in love with him, but he deemed my feelings as meaningless, throwing them away. By doing this, he taught me to carefully and wisely choose the people I invested my feelings in. He took almost all the money I made, making me learn how to make more from less, another lesson I'm eternally grateful to him for."
"These are beautiful words, Judge Matthews, but they are irrelevant for the case, they don't prove how capable my ex-husband is of taking care of a thirteen-year-old boy," Conroy spoke in the usual dismissive voice he used with his much younger husband.
Just then, a soft knock on the door put an abrupt stop to the judge's intention of offering Winters a reply. A young court clerk entered, giving Matthews two sealed envelopes. Thanking the young man, who quickly left, the judge opened one of them and looked over the document inside, his brows raising. Then, the judge's eyes widened in surprise when he read the paper in the second envelope.
"The only one in this room who decides what's relevant and what's not is me, Mister Winters. One more un-requested intervention and you are out of this courtroom. Understand?”
”Yes, Your Honor,” Conroy reluctantly grumbled.
"Now, that we are clear, you can continue, Doctor Calhoun."
"Thank you, Judge Matthews," Rayne calmly spoke, fighting hard to keep his emotions under control. I'm forever indebted to my husband for dismissing most of my theories and studies and for not believing me when I said I was too tired or sick to work. His actions made me study more, to push myself more, to become a better man, a more dedicated scientist."
At that moment, Conroy felt the battle was lost for him, that Rayne had brilliantly outwitted him. He still had hope, if the principal of the school
where Gerrard studied didn't show up. He was on the younger man's side, but Conroy had bribed him with a substantial donation made to the school.
Inhaling sharply, Rayne continued. "Also, I'm grateful he enrolled Gerrard in a boarding school, so my son couldn't see when I was constantly humiliated for being a sorry excuse of a husband, for not being able to fulfill his fantasies in bed. But now it's over, I learned my lessons, and I'm more than ready to be the parent Gerrard needs. To be someone who could teach him what love, respect and friendship are. Someone who could be there for him, to praise and support him. To offer him the affection he was deprived for so long of."
As he finished speaking, Rayne let out a long exhale and sat down on the chair. There was pretty much nothing else for him to do, except patiently waiting for the judge to decide. The doctor took his head in hands, elbows propped on the desk, eyes closed, thinking of all those who'd helped him through that hearing.
Daniel, Tarquin, Eugene, Elizabeth, Christine, Martin Cornelius, Liam...Rayne could feel their presence. Even if they weren't with him, in that room, he could feel the strength and encouragements coming from them. Could hear their silent prayers.
There was, of course, Alastair Stark, whose discreet, but constant presence Rayne relied upon in the darkest moments, when doubt took over his soul, trying to drag him back into the black ocean of despair.
"I will hear from one last person, and then I will let you all know my final decision," Judge Matthews spoke, getting the attention of everyone in the room. "Will you please send the gentleman in," he said to the bailiff, who nodded, opening the door.
Just as Rayne wondered who that person might be, Dirk Hamilton, the principal from Gerrard's school, stepped inside, to Conroy's immense surprise. Doctor Winters was downright furious, thinking he had the man deep in his pocket, after the fifty thousand dollar donation he'd made a week earlier.
”Your Honor, with your permission, I would like to show something to my client,” Flint Cassidy spoke, his eyes widened in shock.
"By all means, Counsellor Cassidy, by all means," Judge Matthews approved with a hint of amusement in his tone.
When his attorney showed him the fax, Conroy knew that he'd lost the custody war. The weasel of a principal had returned the money, and it had been wired into the law firm's account that morning, a couple of hours before the hearing started. His ex, with that silver tongue of his, had convinced the bastard to do that, and he was there, in the courtroom, telling everyone about how great of a father Rayne was.
The younger man, on the other hand, was the embodiment of confusion, as if he couldn't find any logical explanation for the presence of the school's principal there. According to the information Elliott and Benard had, Conroy had donated a large sum of money to the school, and everyone knew what that meant. However, Alastair had encouraged Rayne, telling him not to give up hope, and in the end, he was right.
"Thank you, Mister Hamilton," Judge Matthews' voice stopped the young doctor's thought trail, bringing him back into the eye of the storm. "The things you said, as enlightening as they were, haven't influenced my decision in any way," he looked to the man who was about to leave the room.
As principal Hamilton opened the door, Rayne could see everyone, young Luca Moretti included, waiting for the judge to decide who would get custody of Gerrard. They had confident smiles on their faces. They were giving him something with their positive energy. As the door closed behind the man, Rayne caught a glimpse of Alastair, his look radiating warmth and something else he couldn't pinpoint.
"Today, in this room, I saw two men," Judge Matthews started to talk. "One of them noisily claimed his rights, while the other humbly sat in silence, asking for permission to speak. One of the two men has a solid professional reputation, while the other, until this morning, had nothing, except a brilliant mind, dedication, and thirst for knowledge. One of these men has money, power, and influence, the other a heart filled with love and the will to fight until the bitter end."
The judge stopped for a moment to catch his breath, and the room went so silent, that those present there could hear the beating of each other's hearts. Fingers intertwined, elbows propped on the desk, Rayne prayed with all his heart and soul to all the deities above, to protect the child of his heart. To make him strong, in the face of adversities.
"As I said, there were two men here today, but only one of them is fit to fill the role of father for young Gerrard. Only one of them, a real parent. Doctor Calhoun, I declare you the sole guardian of your son. The only parent to be responsible for taking care of all his needs and well-being. Oh, one more thing: congratulations on your promotion, you fully deserve it."
Conroy cast Rayne a frustrated, helpless, furious look, but the redhead didn't bother to answer him in any way. Instead, he went to the judge, shaking hands with him, then headed to his two lawyers for a group hug. As soon as he stepped outside, his friends surrounded the young doctor, each of them wanting a little piece of him to hug, kiss, shake or pat.
But there was someone else Rayne was looking for in the crowd, and he finally spotted him. He was standing a little further behind, patiently waiting for his turn. Without saying a word, Alastair went to his son, taking him into his loving arms and gently stroking his wavy, red hair with his fingers.
"Everything will be just fine. The hard times are over for you," the former Supreme Dragon whispered in Rayne's ear, releasing him from the embrace and looking into his eyes.
"It's time to celebrate," Daniel joined the two redheads, "the party's this evening, at the mansion. Be there," he pointed to the doctor.
"I don't think I have any choice, do I?" the man grinned. "I'll be there for sure, you can count on me," he added. Then, turning to Alastair, Rayne smiled shyly. "Would you like to give me a ride to the clinic? I have something to pick up from there and..."
"Of course, it will be my pleasure, son," the Stark clan's patriarch smiled, but the next second his expression saddened. "I'm sorry, I realize you may be offended, I... " he stopped abruptly.
"It's all right, Grandpa Alastair," Rayne grinned. "You better get used to me calling you that, because your grandson is going to live with me forever, and yeah, that is what you are, a grandfather."
The ride to the clinic was silent, but it was a comfortable kind of silence — the two men enjoying one another's presence, without any venomous looks or sighs of annoyance. The halt at the clinic was a short one, Rayne needing less than five minutes to get in and out.
The results of the tests were a momentous surprise for the redhead doctor, but at the same time, he was relieved that it wasn't something far more severe. However, he was nervous thinking about how Tarquin was going to take the news. Especially after the conversation the two of them had the day Eugene brought Gerrard to New York.
"Guys, I want to talk to you for a moment," Rayne said to Daniel and Tarquin a few hours later, spotting them isolated on a love seat among all the others, who were still partying. "The matter concerns Daniel, but it's better the both of you hear this."
"Good, because I also meant to talk to you," Tarquin replied, a worried look in his eyes. "Daniel hasn't felt well lately, and I wanted to ask you to run some tests on him. No physical examination, though, he hates it."
”I already did that, and here are the results of those tests,” Rayne gave them a small smile. ”Congratulations are in order, the two of you are going to be parents,” he said.
"Are you trying to say Daniel, my husband, is pregnant? That he carries a child?" Tarquin's voice was barely audible, his eyes glassy, as he hugged himself tightly.
"Yes, that is what I'm trying to say," Rayne answered, surprised by the blonde's reaction. Something was very wrong with him, he thought.
”Well, in that case, excuse me, gentlemen, I have some important things to do,” Tarquin said, the same dead look in his eyes.
He left the couch, headed to the stairs and started to climb them. Shoulders slumped, head lowered, his posture that of an utterly
defeated man. Daniel's look followed him worriedly, but the raven-haired man thought his husband needed a little time to adjust to the new situation, which had come as a shock to him, too.
But Tarquin didn't appear in the next five minutes or the ten after them. Worried about what his husband might do, Daniel finally decided to go upstairs and see what was happening there. When he stepped inside the marital bedroom, Tarquin was busy removing some neatly folded clothes from the dresser.
"What are you doing? What's with all these clothes?" Daniel asked, dreading the answer.
"What does it look like?" the blond replied in the same whispered voice. "I'm making room for his clothes and stuff. I suppose that you'll want him close to you, especially now," Tarquin cast a sorrowful glance in the direction of Daniel's belly.
"Wh...who are you talking about? There is no other man in my life, you are the only one," the raven-haired man passionately stated.