Random Trikey Oneshots

(Not 100% sure why this idea came to me but here i am, writing it. Trans au where Trevor is pregnant.
TW: mentions of miscarriages and death)

Trevor has survived alot of things during his lifetime. Heists, being shot at by the military and police, riding a motorcycle ontop of a train, alcohol and drug overdoses, suicide attempts. Out of all the things that could of killed him, giving birth seemed like the most pathetic way to go out.

But here he was, listening to Ron and a midwife slowly coerce the baby's head out of him as Michael held his hand and whispered encouraging nothings into his ear. Frank was at his other side next to Wade, both of them slightly unsure with how to approach the situation, so they sat close to give their support.

Trevor knew the baby's head was out. The canadian imagined this moment to be a happy one, where he'd hear the cries of his newborn and feel a swell of joy in his stomach. But not a sound came. Not a cry, not a gurgle, not a single peep of anything, and he instantly assumed the worst. The baby, HIS baby, his baby girl wasn't breathing! "No, I-" he choked on his words, not sure what he wanted to get out but the frantic tone in his voice chilled the entire room. His lips trembling, he mumbled jumbled up plees to see his baby, to know that she was okay, that the baby was alive. But no one would answer him, for one reason or another, and suddenly he couldn't breathe. He couldn't focus on anything.

Michael was frozen in place as he heard the midwife shout commands at Ron. He only focused on afew sentences, all of which sent him into a panic. "The umbilical cord is wrapped around the neck" "Isn't breathing!" "Turning blue!" He was vaguely unaware of his lovers grip becoming weaker in his palms. Franklin was the first to point it out. "Trevor!? Trevor, dog!!"

De Santa looked down in horror to see his lover's eyes unfocused and uncoordinated, face pale and white like a ghost. "T-Trev...? Trev! No, no, no!" His breathing picked up as he feared the lives of both his baby and his husband, crying for someone to call an ambulance. This was a horrible idea, why did they agree?!

Why did they have a homebirth when the chances of something going wrong were so high?! Sure, Trevor was on a wanted list, but they could of worked something out, anything!

Ron shouted to the midwife that "He's bleeding out!" And Michael tried his hardest to wake his lover up, to get some type of reaction, for anything to happen, just something! He barely registered Wade calling a hospital and Franklin going in to help both parties survive. "Trevor, please, h-honey...can you hear me? I-I need you to wake up!"

He whimpered in sorrow as he watched his spouses body begin to involuntarily jolt in what looked to be his body's lack of oxygen response. Michael had never felt more sorrow in the moment that he did then, watching Frank pathetically put tissues and rags against the bleeding as if to stop it. "Trev, I can't live without you, please" he begged under his breath as he clung to his dying partner.

Suddenly a baby's wail echoed above the current frantic shouting, and he halted his movements in a torn emotional panic. A distant feeling of relief washed over him at the sound of his baby's cries. His baby was alive, breathing, She was going to be okay. But the feeling barely felt like it was being experienced, seeing the lips and fingertips of his husband turn blue tinted. "B-Baby, please..." he cried softly, hardly registering the familiar sirens edging closer in the distance. "I love you" He whispered in Trevor's ear, letting the ambulance crew take his  husband and his baby as he climbed into the van with them. It was terrifying, watching as two people checked on the chances of his baby's survival, the other doctors scrambling to get Trevor De Santa into a stable condition.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Michael was sat in the waiting room with Franklin around an hour later, dread settled in the both of them as Mikey cried. He briefly noticed Franklin's hand rested against his back for support, but he hardly felt the comfort from it. He felt disgustingly on edge as he sat and waited for the fate of two of the most important people in his life. The baby was bad enough heartbreak, but Trevor? Trevor was torture. His everything was currently held in the grasp of death, and all he could do was sit there and beg to whatever was up there for a miracle. Frank sighed at the state of his friend. He knew this was hard for him, especially since only three hours ago they were existingly awaiting the birth of their child. A child that Michael and Trevor planned to raise together.

Both men rose to their feet when the canadians name was called. Michael felt all of his hope melt away instantly at the grim expression on the doctors face. "Could you come with us, please?" Mikey was sick of waiting, and huffed in annoyance at the request, but followed along anyway. He was led to a room and felt his heart rise into his throat at the sight of his husband, laid there in a pool of his own blood, the expression of death forever planted against his wrinkled features. Michael stumbled into the room, grabbing a stone cold hand and thats when the realisation really sunk in. His best friend, his lover, his husband. His fucking husband was laid dead infront of his very eyes. Underneath his trembling touch. "I'm sorry. There was nothing we could have done" The doctor apologised to the grieving man. Frank was stood behind, mumbling a small curse to himself as he took in the situation. Michael barely remembered the transition from the hospital to home. He recalled breaking down crying, remembered being given his child and signing the birth certificate.

Amelia 'Philips' De Santa.

Franklin was pouring him a drink as he cradled his little girl, hardly registering the current moment. A small sob left his lips as he shielded his darling baby from the news he was finally beginning to accept.

His husband was dead.