#bells library

[keepontruckinlucky]

the baby fever is so real rn. bradley entering dilf territory, the softness of the three of them cuddling, TOMMY...

i can't pick a favorite part rn. check on me later. make sure i haven't passed from the cuteness

My Future in You | 2.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, babies and fluff and more babies, bradley being a nervous first time daddy, wc: 3.8k

…

“This… doesn’t look right.” Bradley pulls back and rests his hands against his hips, staring at the car seat with an unimpressed gaze frown.

“Sure it does.” You answer, peering around him to examine the situation in front of you. The straps are secure at the top of his chest, his plush cheek resting against the padded restraints.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look comfortable.” Bradley answers you with a shake of his head. This is his second practice of the day. He doesn’t want Tom to be in the car seat too long, but he knows that his most significant job in all of this is getting the two of you home safe.

He leans forwards and begins to fiddle with the straps again. Your newborn doesn’t seem fussed by his neurotic, worried dad anyways. Bradley hums. “Don’t worry, buddy, we’ll figure it out.”

“The Bradshaws! — How are we this morning?”

This, Thomas is fussed by. Over the last six days, the first six of his life, you’ve figured that your son has some pretty sharp reflexes. Even just blowing on his cheek makes him flinch. He jumps, arms and legs tensing at once, his still unfocused eyes blowing wide open as the doctor strolls into the room.

His lip begins to wobble and his nose scrunches up tight, his hands trembling under the confines of his mittens. You nudge Bradley out of the way and unclasp the straps right as Thomas begins to cry.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook this little sweetheart.” The doctor is smiling and reaching out to tickle the infant’s back and on your end, everything is forgiven. Bradley, however, glares at her as he reaches his son.

You hadn’t been expecting the same guy who once jumped off of the roof of a neighbouring frat house and into their pool to be such a nervous nelly when it came to parenthood. Especially not the same guy who told you he wanted no part in any of this.

You roll your eyes, rocking softly, shushing the baby. These past six days have taught you a lot of things. That the birthmark on the bottom of Thomas’ back is kind of the shape of Italy. That even though he can’t see much yet, he likes to look around while he’s being fed. That Bradley is not fast enough at changing diapers yet to avoid getting peed on.

That somehow, you and Bradley might have just created the most perfect little boy in the entire world. With his thatches of brown hair and his tiny fingers and toes, his sloped nose and poured lips. Those funny, jumpy reflexes.

“I’m just here to do some tests, see if we can get you guys home today.” She tells you with a bright smile. From the way that your face changes, she can tell that this is the news that you’ve been waiting for. Six days of barely walking, hearing other people’s babies screaming — you’ve been ready to go home for a while.

“Today? — Nobody said today. They said tomorrow.” Bradley interjects loudly. You scowl across at him and he shuts up, but the nervous way he fidgets on his feet tells you everything you need to know.

“I know, I know. But he’s doing just fine so far, and I’m sure you two are eager to sleep in your own beds again.” The doctor coos softly, learning from her initial mistake as she takes the baby from your arms. She follows your pattern of soothing and rocking and Thomas seems to consider quietening down.

Bradley pushes his hands into the pockets of his sweat shorts and just leans back against the end of the hospital bed. He’s so focused on watching this stranger with your baby that he doesn’t even hear you move until you’re pressing in against his side.

“You’re doing fine.” You promise him, stretching your open palm against the fabric of his black t-shirt, stretching your neck to look at him. “Stop stressing.”

He doesn’t say anything, and that worried frown on his face doesn’t soften either. Bradley swallows, brushes a hand over his upper lip and reaches out for you. You close

Your eyes as he secures an arm around your waist and tugs you closer, leaning down and resting his mouth against the top of your head.

He inhales deeply, breathing in the scent of unfamiliar shampoo and hospital borrowed soap.

“She called you a Bradshaw, you know.” He whispers finally, just before he straightens back up. You scoff, jabbing the tip of your index finger into his side.

“Don’t get any ideas, Pops. It’s bad enough you talked me into letting Tommy take your name.” You’re joking, of course. The amusement in your voice makes his chest feel that little bit less tight. You’ll say yes, one day. He’ll make sure it’s special and you’re not giving birth next time, and you’ll say yes.

He pinches your side playfully and tugs you closer again. “Pops? — I thought we agreed on you calling me—“

He grunts as you jerk your elbow back into his stomach, just enough to make him jolt but not enough to actually hurt the idiot you’ve come to be so fond of. There it is, he grins behind you, his chest rumbling with a soft chuckle.

Minutes later, the doctor turns around to you and gives you the go-ahead. Suddenly, the little boy in the roomy onesie is all yours, and yours alone. Well, not that suddenly, there’s paperwork first. But sudden feels the only appropriate word when you’re walking out of the hospital, with no one to guide you.

Bradley’s knuckles are white around the handle of the car seat in his right hand, a slightly softer approach to the way that he’s holding your hand in his left.

“You’re sure you can walk? — They said you could have a chair, if you want a chair.” He checks, for the second time since you stepped out of the elevator.

“I’m fine.” You give his hand a soft squeeze and groan softly as you step out into the mid-summer suffocation of the Florida heat. “Now walk with purpose. It’s too hot for this.”

Settled into the backseat beside Thomas, sleeping in his car seat, you catch Bradley frowning worriedly back at the both of you before he turns the key in the ignition.

The drive home is slow, and uneventful. The baby is asleep. Bradley��s eyes are trained seriously on the road, his hands holding a steady ten and two position on the wheel. You don’t dare suggest that he turns on the radio.

There were plenty of things that you had prepared yourself for when you had decided to have your baby. Your body changing, fine. Your career plans changing, okay. The hormones and the responsibilities and the tiny human who would depend on you for probably the rest of your life, sure.

Some things about such a drastic lifestyle change simply cannot be planned for.

Nine hours ago, you brought your son home from the hospital. This is something that you would never admit out loud, but in those last few days of your pregnancy, the concern had flooded your mind that maybe your feelings for Bradley were purely hormonal. You were carrying his child, it makes sense that your body would want him around. It was the after that had concerned you.

But, you had watched today as Bradley had carried the car seat in one hand and secured you by his side with the other. He had buckled your son into the car, and he had driven home under the speed limit the entire way.

You exhale softly as you step out of the shower. That’s growing easier now, six days later, but your body is far from healed. Your legs still tremble when you try to stand too long, and your back aches in a way you’re starting to worry might be permanent.

It’s quiet in your apartment now. You listen out as you towel dry your body, trying to find the pitch of a sports narrator or some soft music — anything. It’s almost dead silent.

You wriggle into your pyjamas and wrap your wet hair, walking slow out of the bathroom and down the hall. You’re barely dry, your warm feet padding along the carpet, wrinkled fingers pushing open the door to the bedroom.

One of the things that none of the articles you had read seemed to mention, is what to do the first time that you see the father of your child at home with your baby.

Bradley’s sitting up against the pillows with Thomas nestled against his chest. His hand eclipses the infant’s torso as he pats his back softly. Thomas’ cheek is resting against Bradley’s pectoral, you can’t see from where you are but instinct and your son’s uncharacteristic stillness tells you that he’s sleeping.

Bradley’s singing. He’s patting the baby’s back gently and he’s singing softly, trying hard to push the usually deep rumble of his voice into lullaby territory.

Your mouth falls slack, cold feet becoming still against the soft floor. This tiny first apartment and its discernible wooden doors that creak at every opportunity give you away and he stops just as quickly as he is perceived.

His gaze flickers up and his lips twist softly into a small smile. You watch him take account of your matching maternity pyjamas which threaten to be too big without the stretch of your bump. Amusement floods the hint of the smile on his lips — he loves to laugh at these pyjamas.

His hand stills against Thomas’ back, those glittery brown eyes flicker up to study the look on your face.

“Hey, babe,” He hums, keeping his voice low so that he doesn’t startle the baby. “How was your shower?”

“I didn’t think I would miss our shitty water pressure, but I’m just so glad we’re not at the hospital anymore.” You pad across the carpet towards him and crawl into bed, pulling back the sheets and draping yourself across Bradley’s brawny thighs.

He looks down at you and secures the infant close to his chest, freeing one hand to brush tenderly across your cheek.

“What was that song were you singing him?” You ask. The ceiling fan whirs above you like a thrumming, excessively loud lullaby. The warmth of his thigh props up your cheek.

There’s something about it all that feels too much like a dream. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. The NICU isn’t exactly a luxury retreat, despite its price point. Tonight is your first night home from the hospital. Your son is six days old and yesterday, he officially crossed the threshold into five pound territory. Tonight, he’s huddled against Bradley’s bare chest, wearing a diaper that had seemed too tiny for an actual human to wear and zipped into a onesie printed with little ducks on it. Geese, maybe, actually.

You lift your hand and reach out, watching your fingertip follow the soft cotton covering those wrinkled lines on the sole of Thomas’ foot that you’ve come to be so familiar with already.

The infant curls his toes and unclenches them again, scrunching his knees. Bradley watches, lips twisted into a smile that he couldn’t fight back if he tried.

There’s something about the steady, heavy thrum of Bradley’s heartbeat that puts the kid right to sleep. The warm bath and the ounce of milk that came before he was set on his dad’s stomach may have helped too. Bradley’s hand cups the back of Thomas’ neck, keeping the sleeping baby steady.

“Wildflowers by, uh— Tom Petty, I think?” Bradley shrugs. In truth, he knows the song inside and out — it was the first song he learned to play on piano. He’s used to playing that down. Girls find guitars hot, not his years of classical piano lessons.

You smile, lifting your head and pressing a gentle kiss to the sole of the baby’s foot, soft blue cottons

against your lips. Then, you lower your mouth and press it softly to Bradley’s stomach. Just once, before you drop your head back down and set it against his thigh.

“He’s so good, and I’m still exhausted.” You murmur, exhaling deeply. Behind heavy lids, you make a mental note to look into which ingredient in the smell of baby soap acts as such a good sleeping agent.

“You should sleep. He’ll be up again in a couple of hours.” Bradley reminds you, stroking damp hair back off of your forehead. Closing your eyes, you nod with him, but make no effort to move. He smiles. “Come on, I don’t need to sing the both of you to sleep, do I?”

You huff a soft sound of amusement, giving a small shake of your head. “Not tonight, Pops. Put him to bed, let’s get some sleep.”

Bradley chuckles, carefully shifting your son off of his stomach and instead laying him across his thighs as you sit up.

“Mom and Dad… isn’t that crazy?” He muses, stroking his thumb across the soft hair on the infant’s head. Thomas is still so small that Bradley’s palm makes him look even tinier. You lean into your boyfriend’s shoulder and stroke the baby’s cheek.

“I know.” You agree quietly.

Big, round cheeks and pursed lips, dark eyelashes and a soft little nose. His tiny hands balled into fists, his knees curled up to his middle. Blue clouds adorning his onesie. Half you, and half Bradley.

“Alright, we’ll see you in a couple hours, little man. Yell if you need something.” Bradley half jokes as he pushes himself up from the bed and turns to set the baby into the bassinet. With the lung capacity he has already impressed you with, you know that he’ll have no issues letting you know if he wants something.

He crawls back into bed beside you and flicks the beside lamp off, pulling the covers up around the two of you. Readily, you press yourself close to him and close your eyes. He smells like baby soap.

“Are you still hurting anywhere?” Bradley’s voice lowers to a whisper now, his breath fanning across the nape of your neck as he leans his head into the crook of your shoulder and cautiously rests a hand against your hip. Into the dark, your mouth twitches at a smile.

Your hips feel both squished and torn apart at the same time. Your back feels like it might never feel quite right ever again. But even with him a cautious distance from you, you can feel the perpetual warmth from his body.

“Everywhere. But I still want you to hold me.”

Slowly, he slides an arm under you and another over you. Draping his body around yours, he pulls you close and suddenly you get whatever it is that sends Thomas off to sleep so easily. The faint musky smell of his fading cologne. The steady, heavy thrum of his heartbeat. The long, deep pattern of his breathing.

Just when you think he has beat you to it, he reminds you that he’s still awake. A soft, chaste kiss presses to your throat, his voice low as he mumbles, “I love you.”

As much as Thomas is a good baby; he’s still a baby. A small one at that, with plenty of growing to do. Even now, he just about finishes an ounce of milk at a time — half of the time. That means a lot of wake ups. A lot of diaper changes with your eyes half open.

The first four days of parenthood pass you by before you’ve really come to terms with the reality of it all. Constant feeds through the night, surviving off of instant noodles and pizza — all of this doesn’t feel too far of a stretch from your recent college days.

But it’s harder now. The responsibilities are never ending. It’s hard to remain rational about any of it.

“If you could breastfeed, would you do it?”

From the other end of the couch, Bradley seems to startle awake. Brows drawing together in confusion, he stares across your dimly lit living room at you, then takes a second to look around him.

You’re at the end of the movie now, so he doesn’t have a clue how long he has been sleeping. Stretching his legs out, he sighs softly, “Yeah. I guess so.”

Your mouth twitches at the fact that he doesn’t even ask you why. He blinks softly and brings both hands up to rub at his eyes tiredly.

“What time is it?”

“Two, maybe.” You shrug, watching Thomas’ eyelids grow heavy. His hands remain balled and tucked in against his chest. He has spent these past four days stretching out occasionally, scrunching himself back into a tight ball frequently.

“No fucking way did I just sleep for four hours. The movie’s still playing.” Bradley protests, awkwardly fumbling to push himself upright and puckering his mouth into a deep frown. You just shrug across at him once more.

“I put the sequel on after you fell asleep.”

He hadn’t ever thought he would be able to have a regular conversation with a woman who had her breast out in front of him, but here he is. It doesn’t even cross his mind to check you out. The only thing he’s thinking about is the fact you’re running on maybe an hour of uninterrupted sleep and all you had wanted was to watch your movie with him. And he had fallen asleep.

He fumbles around, checking his pockets for his phone, finding it instead resting between his jaw and shoulder. You close your eyes for a moment as he checks the time. In the split second that your eyes are shut, Thomas makes a spluttering sound.

As quickly as you can lift and turn him, the has already spit the last mouthful of milk back against your skin and all down his chin.

“Oh, Tommy…” You groan, adjusting the strap of your nursing bra with one hand as you support him with the other.

“Here, I’ll take him.” Bradley offers, pushing himself up and starting to scoot towards you.

“We’re fine.” Maybe it comes out a little bit harsh, maybe your tone is a little colder than normal. Bradley frowns at you, sitting still at the opposite end of the sectional. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to—“

“I know you didn’t.” You’re just doubling down at this point as you wipe at Thomas’ mouth with a muslin cloth. Bradley’s brows draw together a bit.

“So why are you mad at me? — Just let me help you.” He pushes forwards again and reaches for your son.

“I said we’re fine!” You bite back. The baby flinches and quickly starts to scream. You slam your eyes shut, darkness behind your lids and a dull ache drilling from your temples to the core of your brain.

Opposite you, Bradley sighs, dropping his head forward into his hands. You’re both silent. The sequel plays on. The baby keeps on screaming. Neither one of you look at each other.

This is what all new parents go through, you know that. It doesn’t make it any less sore in the moment.

“What should I do?” Bradley asks finally, pushing up from the sofa and squeezing against your side, wrapping an arm around your aching shoulders. It’s not worth dragging your eyes open for.

“Never get me pregnant again, for starters.” You mutter half-jokingly. Bradley chuckles at your side and turns his head to kiss at those sore temples, like he can feel where it hurts. Maybe those dad-senses are sharper than you give him credit for.

“Not even once more? — But look how cute the first one wa—“ He’s only joking of course, but he still has the good sense to shut up when you turn your head and glare at him. He grins, and he looks just like he did the first time you were stupid enough to melt for that pretty look.

“You hungry?” Bradley asks. He read somewhere that breastfeeding can cause stronger appetites.

“Yeah.”

“Dad’s got it. We’ll be right back.” Bradley promises you, dipping forwards and kissing your temple once more, stealing the baby in one fell swoop. “Come on, buddy.”

Bradley pads into the kitchen barefoot, bouncing the baby in his arms and you let your eyes fall shut once more. You’re only two weeks in. They don’t start sleeping through the night for another couple months at least — sometimes years. You don’t know how you could do another couple years of being this delirious.

Closing your eyes, it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re not here. That you’re still in school, or still in your parents’ house. Somewhere safer, where you could hide from the limited responsibilities that you had back then. It would be so easy to drift off into a dream about life being that easy again.

Instead, the sofa dips at your side and your boys are back. Bradley announces himself by kissing your cheek softly and pressing a spoon into your hand.

“All we have is Ice-Cream.” He tells you, settling Thomas into the crook of his elbow and passing the tub of ice cream off to you. You blink at the vanilla flavoured frozen treat in front of you, then look up to stare at him. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow. We’ll both go. You can stay here and sleep in.”

You look away for just a second, digging the tip of your spoon into the ice cream, and hear him continue.

“We can get whatever we want, Mommy won’t be there to tell us no.”

Despite your best efforts, a smile itches its way across your face. You turn your head and attempt to force at a scowl. All five of Thomas’ right-hand fingers are wrapped around Bradley’s little finger, they both seem to be looking at you.

“I don’t care what you come home with as long as there’s more of this stuff in there somewhere.” You decide, slipping a spoonful into your mouth and savouring the flavour on your tongue. Bradley shifts, leaning his head against yours.

“Share.” He demands, leaving his mouth open. You snuff your nose at him as you dig another spoonful from the tub and shovel it into his mouth. “That’s so good.”

“Probably not what we should be eating. We aren’t setting a very good example.” You hum, ignoring your own advice and gulping down another spoonful, kicking your feet up onto the coffee table.

If only your mother could see you now. She would lose her marbles if she saw your approach to motherhood.

“Eh, this kid pees himself all day long. We’ll start being good examples for him later on.” Bradley shrugs, leaning his weight into you, turning his attention back to the tv. “So can you explain to me what I missed?”

…

Taglist: @chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @heli991113 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm33 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @himbos-on-ice @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutford @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

[keepontruckinlucky]

okay, someone make me write. I have all these ideas and I can't put them on paper rn.

[katsinspats]

Since I got into the IDW comics recently, I wanted to draw Tangle and Whisper together!! I couldn't decide on the design, so I just did both🤪

(These are totally unrelated to the Tangle and Whisper miniseries I just thought the faux-comic cover would be cute)

[keepontruckinlucky]

LEAH, OH MY GOD

it’s happening again | rhett abbott

the fifth and final installment of the wolf series ; must read other parts before reading this one

listen to the playlist here (i recommend listening to it's happening again by agnes obel while reading)

description: in which a wolf is caught in a battle between life and death

characters: werewolf rhett abbott x werewolf f!reader, reader and rhett's children, my own ocs as members of the abbott pack

warnings: 18+, mentions of injury and bodily harm, violence, character death, depictions of grief, mentions of pregnancy and birth, angst

dedication: to @lovinglyeternal ; without you this story would not exist. to @bro-ooke for being my beta reader. and to @bradshawsbitch for always supporting me through this endeavor

Previously in The Wolf series…

You held back a sob, the hand over your mouth lowering to rest against your belly, where your unborn pup lay. You had only one thought. “He’s going to die, isn’t he?”

The doctor’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Her eyes, deep brown and ever sympathetic, filled with tears. She could not sugarcoat her diagnosis. 

“I can give him some ancient herbal medicines that will help slow its effects, and ease his pain. But I’m afraid that all I can do right now is make him comfortable. I’m sorry.”

Your tearful eyes flickered to Rhett’s sickly form. His eyes were closed. His breathing was shallow. He was getting worse by the minute, and your world was falling apart. Your shoulders shook as another set of sobs wracked your body, painful and deep. 

You were losing him. And there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

Now

You shook your head, cheeks damp with hot tears. “There has to be something else you can do!” 

She sighed softly, hesitating, choosing her next words carefully. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, because the chances are slim, but…I do know someone who might have an antidote. A wolf doctor who’s an old friend. But he lives far away…I don’t know that we would be able to get the antidote here in time. Not to mention, there’s no guarantee that he still has it.”

“Well it’s worth a try, isn’t it?!”

“Honey, I just don’t want to get your hopes up. He might pass before the antidote ever gets here.”

“Please,” you whispered, grabbing her hand. “Just try. I need…I need to know we did everything we could to save him.”

Rose held your gaze for a moment before she reached a hand up to gently pat your cheek. “Okay. For now, I have a few things I can give him to at least make his pain less severe. I’ll give him some medicine and then make a phone call.”

You nodded, sniffling at more tears spilled down your cheek. You wiped them with the back of your hand. Rose moved to grab her medicine bag, which she promptly opened and began rummaging around inside. 

She set out three different glass vials. One had a botanical substance in it, which looked like a plant root. The other contained a powder. The other was a liquid. Then, out of the bag, she pulled a small mortar and pestle. She deposited a little of each ingredient in the mortar, and once she was satisfied, she ground it all together with the pestle, until a paste was formed. 

“Get me a cup of water, please,” she said, as she retrieved a spoon from her bag. 

You turned on your heel and rushed to the bathroom, where you filled one of the disposable cups you kept on the counter with water. Then you ran back to her, placing the cup in her outstretched hand. 

“Here,” she motioned toward Rhett, “help me get him propped up.”

You wasted no time in grabbing extra pillows from your side of the bed, carefully lifting Rhett’s head and shoulders before you put the pillows in place, raising him a little. He took a deep breath, though ragged as it was, and you realized this position made it much easier for him to breathe. 

Lovingly, you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m here,” you whispered. His head moved slightly in search of your touch. 

“Hi, Rhett,” the doctor gently spoke. “It’s Doc Tenpenny. I’m going to give you some medicine to help with your pain, okay?” She warned him before she even began to administer the dose. 

His eyes fluttered open, and he hummed weakly in acknowledgment. You held your tears back as you climbed into bed beside him, cradling his head as the doctor set to work. She carefully spooned the paste she had just made into his mouth. She followed that by giving him a drink of water to help it go down. 

He coughed, but managed to swallow it, grimacing at the bitter taste. 

Then, Rose used the paste to very gently smooth over his wound. The contact made him growl loudly in agony, and he tried to pull away from it. You wept as you held him down. 

Finally, she was done, and she carefully placed a bandage over the wound. “He’ll need an oral spoonful every half hour,” she informed you. “It will slow the poison down. The goal is to slow it enough to keep it from reaching his heart. But there’s only so much it can do. I have more of the ingredients in my clinic if you need more, but…with the fighting going on out there I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get to it.”

“How will we get the antidote?” You asked, your hand lovingly brushing against Rhett’s sweaty forehead. 

“I’ll call my friend. His name is Klaus. The last I heard he had come up with an antidote, but he had no way of mass-producing it. He may not have any left. I just want you to be warned that there is a very high chance we won’t be able to save Rhett. You have to be prepared for that outcome.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But we can still try.”

Rose nodded. “Where’s your cell phone? I’m afraid I left mine at the clinic.” 

“It’s downstairs, charging on the kitchen counter.”

With that, she hurriedly slipped away to make the phone call. This left you completely alone with Rhett. As you gazed down at him, you felt a fresh wave of tears well in your eyes. 

“Oh, my love,” you whimpered. “I’m so sorry. Please hold on, we’re trying to get you help.”

He took a labored breath, his eyes coming open again. “D-don’t know how much longer I can hold on,” he croaked. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare. I know it hurts. But I need you to fight. Fight for your children. Fight for the pup in my belly. Please.”

He coughed again, groaning lowly as pain blossomed through him. “I’m…I’m tryin’. But you need t’…be ready, in case I c-can’t.”

“Don’t talk like that. I’m not letting you go that easy, you hear me? They’re not taking this pack’s alpha away from us.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, and you could see the tears that slipped down his cheeks. His trembling hand came up to weakly grasp your own. “St-stay with me, at least? Don’t…don’t want to be alone.”

You leaned forward to rest your head on his chest. “I won’t leave you alone. I promise. Now save your strength, please. Just rest, baby.” 

And for a few fleeting moments, everything was quiet. The storm howling outside was forgotten. There was no threat to the sanctity of your pack. No wolf fight taking place amidst the icy winds. No blood staining the snow crimson. All you knew was peace, there in your bed, curled protectively around the one you loved. 

But the reality of the matter began to set in. A bitter taste in your mouth. An ache in your chest. Your mate was in pain, and you could feel it all the way down to the marrow of your bones. 

You knew, then, what he’d felt when he almost lost you all those years ago. The terror and the pain he had experienced. All because Tillersons stole you away.  They prevented him from being able to sense you by putting a special sort of masking collar around your neck. Because of it, Rhett had thought you were dead. It was, as he had described to you, the worst moment of his life. 

And now, it’s happening again, you thought. It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s happening again. 

What if you lost him? The keeper of your heart. The father of your children. What if he slipped away forever, and you were left to go on without him?

The thought was agonizing. You had heard stories from other wolves who’d lost their mates. How it felt as if one’s soul was being stripped from their very being. You couldn’t fathom a life without him. He was the half of your whole. The piece that completed the puzzle that was your life. 

But here he was, gravely wounded, barely hanging on to life, and you were falling apart. 

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but soon, Doctor Tenpenny had returned. You sat up in the bed, eyeing her, awaiting her news. 

“I got ahold of Klaus. He told me that he has one vial of antidote left. But he’s going to have to fly in, and with the weather being the way that it is right now…it might be several days before he gets here. I don’t know if Rhett has that long, honey. He might not make it.”

You nodded silently, gazing down at your husband’s face. White as the sheets beneath him. A glimmer of sweat on his brow. You held back another wave of tears. 

“But he’s on his way, right?” You looked up at her, waiting for reassurance. 

“He is. But he’s traveling all the way from Alaska, and he can’t leave until tomorrow, at the earliest. All we can do is hope and pray my medicine will keep Rhett alive long enough for Klaus to get here.”

And so, the waiting game began. 

There was much uncertainty you were facing. It was the most frightening moment of your life, and your knees threatened to buckle under the weight. But you had little ones to be strong for. You couldn’t fall apart. Not when you were the glue holding them together. 

“I need to…I need to go check on the kids,” you finally spoke. “Call for me if anything changes?”

Rose nodded, offering a kind smile. “I will.”

You slid out of the bed, standing on unsteady legs. It broke your heart to walk away from Rhett. You were terrified you would miss something. Terrified he would slip away and you wouldn’t be there to hold his hand and tell him goodbye. 

You leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I love you,” you whispered. Reluctantly, you turned away, making your way back downstairs, even though half of your heart remained upstairs. 

Outside, the blizzard continued on, winds howling through the rafters of your home. Cautiously, you stopped to peek out the window, only to realize there was no one out there. It dawned on you that Malakai had likely lured the invading wolves away, leading them elsewhere so that your family would be safe. 

While you could hold your own in a fight, because combat skills came naturally to wolves, you were still vulnerable because of your children, and now, because of what had happened to Rhett. 

A pack was considerably weaker without its alpha. You prayed silently that there had been no casualties in the battle. You weren’t sure if you could stand to hear the news that your pack members had been killed. 

Malakai knew what he was doing. He would protect the pack in Rhett’s stead, and do what he could to extinguish the danger. You just had to trust in his abilities, and pray that those trying to harm your pack would be overpowered and defeated. 

You stepped back from the window, drawing the curtain so that no one could see inside. You double-checked that the door was locked tight, and then you finally moved to go check on your children. 

When you cracked open the bedroom door, you found that Amy had managed to get them all down for a nap. Even Arya, who’d long since graduated from daily nap taking, was sound asleep, cuddled up beside Leia. Amy held a half-asleep Zoella in her embrace. 

Your heart warmed at the sight, and you quietly stepped into the room. “Hey,” you whispered. 

“How is he?” Amy asked. 

You shook your head, trying not to well up with tears again. “No change. But we did get ahold of a wolf doctor who has a possible antidote. He’s traveling in from Alaska.”

Your niece nodded thoughtfully, her face still grim with worry. “What do you think?” She inquired. “Do you think this is gonna kill him?”

All you could manage was an uncertain shrug before you quickly reached out and wrapped your arms around her. The two of you stood in the middle of the room, crying softly as you embraced. You felt so lost, but you were grateful for Amy’s companionship. Rhett was very special to her too. The thought of losing him broke her heart. In a way, it felt as if she was losing her father. In her mind, her father was not the man sitting behind bars at the Wyoming State Penitentiary. It was the man upstairs in your bedroom, fighting for his life. 

“It isn’t fair,” she breathed, pulling back to wipe the tears that had trailed down her cheeks. “He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this.”

You couldn’t utter an answer, because you were too overwhelmed with emotion. But you didn’t need to say anything, because there were no words that could truly describe the way you were feeling in that moment. The one that popped into your head was the word crushed. You were crushed. 

But it was only just beginning. 

After your moment of shared emotion, you led Amy out to the kitchen, intending to prepare you both a cup of coffee. Something to occupy your hands would distract you for a moment. But just as you were placing each full mug on the kitchen table, frantic knocking could be heard at the front door.

Both of you froze in fear. Cautiously, you stood, making your way to the door. Using your heightened scent, you breathed in, and sighed in relief when you realized it was just Malakai. But when you opened the door, you gasped. 

His clothes were tattered. His skin was stained with blood. He was very clearly injured, but not fatally so, for he was still lucid and upright. Quickly, you stepped aside, allowing him into the house. You could smell the scent of other wolves on him. The iron of their blood. 

“How’s Rhett?” He asked. 

“No change,” you answered. And then, “What’s happening out there?” You asked him as you hurriedly shoved the door shut behind you. 

He turned to you. His face was bleak. “It was a blood bath. We killed most of Kane’s wolves. The few that were left retreated. There’s no telling if they’ll be back or not. But…you need to know that we had several casualties.”

“Oh, no,” you whispered, your heart sinking in your chest. 

He hesitated, as if his next words were difficult. “Sweetheart, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. As alpha, it’s Rhett’s responsibility to hold memorials to honor our fallen wolves, but because he’s not able to…would you mind if I did it for him? I don't want to overstep, because he is your mate and you have jurisdiction to make decisions in his stead.”

Considering his offer, you nodded. You knew you didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to conduct a mourning ceremony. You were fairly certain you would collapse from your grief and the grief of those around you. 

“That’s okay,” you replied. “Go ahead and do it. But please send the families my sympathy. Who are the ones that passed?”

He listed the names of the pack members, all of whom you had known your whole life. It made your heart ache, and you found yourself lowering down to the couch beside you, resting your head in your hands. Everything was in shambles. 

“How…how are we going to come back from this?” You whimpered. Then you looked up at Malakai. The wolf who had once been your alpha. The one you still admired and respected. The one Rhett tried to emulate in his own plight as alpha. “Uncle Malakai, I can’t…if Rhett dies, I can’t take up his mantle.”

He stepped forward, kneeling so that he was eye level with you. His face was kind. His eyes were sympathetic. “You don’t need to think about that right now. What you need to focus on is taking care of yourself and your pups. Do what you have to do for your family. I’ll take care of the pack end of things. Alright?”

You nodded, sniffling as you wiped at your tears with your sleeve. “A-alright. Thank you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He nodded. “Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help.” Then he stood. “I should tell you, Rhett’s mother is asking about him. I told her he was hurt. I think she’s on her way over here right now.”

“Oh, I should’ve called her,” you bemoaned, “I was so preoccupied with everything that I just didn’t think of it.”

Malakai shook his head. “No, it’s understandable. That’s why I told her myself. Figured it would take one less thing off your plate.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, trying to keep your emotion at bay. A knot was forming in your throat. 

He smiled, patting your shoulder. “No need to thank me.” Then he moved to leave. “I’ve got everything else handled for now. Let me know if you need anything.”

And with that, he departed. You remained on the couch, your elbows resting on your thighs, your chin resting on your palm, staring straight ahead. You felt frozen in place, unable to move, still processing what Malakai had told you. 

Wolves were dead. Your husband was dying. Your children were frightened. And so were you. For a moment, the grief felt too heavy to bear. Like you were going to drown under the weight of it. 

But then there was another knock at your door, and it pulled you out of your wallowing. You straightened, springing up from your seat and hurrying to the door. You opened it to find Cecilia on your doorstep, her face pinched in concern. 

“I heard about Rhett,” she informed you. There were tears in her eyes. “How is he?”

You reached out to take her hand. “Come with me,” you said. You guided her through the house and up the stairs, straight up to the bedroom. 

There, Doctor Tenpenny had just finished giving Rhett another dose of medicine. When Cecilia saw him, her hand came up to cover her mouth. 

She stepped forward, moving to stand at his bedside, and she shook her head. “Oh, my boy. My boy,” she whispered. You came up beside her and placed your arm around her shoulders. 

“What happened?” She whispered. 

“Malakai didn’t tell you?”

“He just said he was badly hurt.”

You took an unsteady breath. “It’s Wolfsbane. He was stabbed with a blade that was laced with it.” 

Cecilia gasped sharply, her eyes widening. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she whispered. Her shoulders began to shake as she cried silently. “I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t…I can’t lose my baby boy.”

Your own eyes welled with a fresh wave of tears. It amazed you that you even had any left to cry. Over the years, Cecilia had lost so much. She never spoke of it, but long ago, after she’d had Perry but before she’d had Rhett, she had suffered a miscarriage. Following that, many years later, she had lost her daughter-in-law, with whom she’d had a close bond. Then she had lost her husband and son to prison because of their involvement with Trevor Tillerson’s murder. 

She was all alone now. Rhett was all she had left. the thought of losing her son was too much to bear. “Can you save him?” She asked Doctor Tenpenny. 

Rose sighed softly. “All I have is medicine that can ease his pain and slow the poison down. I’ve called a doctor friend who has an antidote for wolfsbane poisoning, but I have to warn you, he might not get here in time to save Rhett. And even if he does, there’s no guarantee that it will work. He might be too far gone.”

Cecilia shook her head, reaching out to run her fingers through Rhett’s hair. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But just by looking at him, and listening to the slow beating of his heart and his quiet breaths, you knew he had slipped into a coma. 

“Please, save my boy.” 

You realized Cecilia wasn’t speaking to you. She was praying. It was something you hadn’t heard her do in a long time. After what happened with Royal and Perry, it seemed that she had lost her faith. But now here she was, whispering to a God you weren’t even sure existed. How could he allow such a thing to happen? A young father with four, almost five, little ones to take care of. It didn’t seem fair. 

But you weren’t going to argue with Cecilia over God’s existence. If praying gave her peace of mind, you would let her have that. 

She turned to you then, wiping at her tear-dampened cheeks. “Where are the pups?” She asked. 

“Downstairs, they’re all napping in Arya’s room,” you replied. 

She hesitated a moment. “Do you need help with them?”

“I don’t want to put all of that on you.”

But she shook her head, reaching out to touch your arm. “Nonsense, you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now and I want to do what I can to help. Do you want me to take them to my house?”

“No, I don’t want them too far away, just in case he…” You trailed off, trying to keep your emotions in check. 

Cecilia nodded, already knowing what you were insinuating. “I understand. Listen, I’ll watch over them, you focus on takin’ care of our boy, alright?”

Finally, you relented, because in all honesty, you had no idea how you were going to balance caring for Rhett and wrangling your children all at the same time. Having help would greatly benefit you, and lift some of the weight off your shoulders. 

So you let Cecilia assume that role, knowing she was happy to take care of her grandchildren. It was the least she could do during that terrible moment. 

“Amy knows their routine like clockwork,” you explained. “She’ll help you out.”

Your mother-in-law smiled softly. “Thank you for letting me do this. I need…I need to do something, at least. And I want to be close by, in case Rhett gets worse.”

“I’ll let you know if there’s a change, I promise.” 

She reached out to hug you. “I love you, honey. And I’m so sorry this is happening.”

“Me too,” came your whisper, your voice trembling. 

With one last look at Rhett, she slipped away, headed downstairs to speak with Amy. In the meantime, Doctor Tenpenny spoke up. 

“I have other pack members who were injured in the fight. Will you be okay by yourself for a little while?” 

You turned toward her, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll stop by my house to grab my cellphone while I’m out, just call me if there’s any change. I just gave him another dose of medicine so you won’t have to worry about that for another half hour.”

“Thank you,” you told her, “I’m grateful.”

She offered a sad smile as she reached up to gently squeeze your shoulder. “I’m happy to help. It’s the least I can do for my alpha.”

Soon after, she departed, and again, you were alone with Rhett. The silence that filled the room felt deafening. Suffocating, even. All you could hear was his breathing, so slow it was almost if he wasn’t breathing at all. 

“Hold on, Rhett. Just a little longer.”

You weren’t sure if he could even hear you or not. 

In the following hours, you were hit with ebbing waves of emotion. Deep moments of terrible sorrow that tore itself from your lungs in the form of wretched, heaving sobs, as you clutched Rhett’s hand, crying over his unresponsive form. Then there were moments of numbness. Where you were certain you had no more tears to cry. Where you sat there and stared at him and realized that hope was fleeting and fate might not be kind enough to preserve your husband’s life. 

And then, there was anger. Scalding, vibrating rage that thrummed through your veins. You thought of Kane, and the havoc he’d wreaked on your pack. Part of you wished he was still alive so he could suffer for what he’d done to your mate. You longed for him to die slowly, just like Rhett was dying. It shouldn’t be your husband in this bed. It should be the evil wolf who had done this, instead. 

But life was unfair in that way. Bad things happened to good people. 

As your emotions cycled through you, you grew weary, the events of the day finally catching up to you in the form of aching limbs and tired eyes. 

Cecilia made dinner that night, and she brought some up for you, but you couldn’t eat. You had no appetite, and the thought of food nauseated you. Instead, you threw yourself into caring for Rhett. Administering medicine every half hour, wiping at his clammy skin with a cool cloth, trying to keep him comfortable. 

The only time you left his side was to head downstairs to kiss your children goodnight and tuck them into bed. Your two youngest were irritable, and they both put up a fuss as you tried to get them to bed. Being off of their routine, and knowing something was wrong with their daddy, threw them for a loop. As little Zoella cried at the top of her lungs, your own eyes welled with tears, and the overstimulation was murder on your senses. 

It made you panicky, and Cecilia was the one to notice your distress. Immediately, she stepped in. “Go. I’ve got her.”

You didn’t argue. You turned on your heel and fled from the bedroom, your feet carrying you as you scrambled to the door, on autopilot. You had to flee. Had to breathe. Had to have silence. 

You threw yourself out into the icy night air, dashing down the porch stairs, bare feet hitting the snow. One, two, three, four running steps until you went down, knees hitting the ground. You threw your head back and let out an agonized wail, your pain echoing throughout your surroundings, above the wind and snow. 

Why does it hurt so fucking bad?

“Don’t take him from me! You hear?! Don’t you fucking take him from me!”

Who were you speaking to? God? The universe? Death itself? 

You had no idea that at the very same moment, upstairs in your bedroom, your mate wasn’t alone. Someone was there with him, seated at the edge of the bed, inching closer and closer. 

His body was not conscious, but he could see it so clearly in his mind. The beautiful, but sad, face of a woman. Stormy eyes. Skin so pale it seemed gray. Dark hair that fell loosely around her shoulders. 

“You’re almost mine, young wolf,” she spoke. Though she appeared to be no older than thirty, her voice sounded ancient, as if she had existed before the conception of time. 

“Not yet,” he told her, for he knew who this was. This was Death, come to steal him away. 

“The clock is ticking,” came her warning. “You can only stave it off for so long. Soon, I will have no choice but to take you.”

“No,” he insisted, determined. My babies need me. My mate needs me. I’m not leavin’ them yet.”

“Soon,” was her final utterance. And then she was gone just as quickly as she had come, leaving a draft of cold air in her wake. She was determined to have this soul, for it was so close to Death’s door she could almost taste it. 

Rhett wasn’t going down without a fight. 

Outside, amidst the drifting snow, you rose to your feet, wiping your cold cheeks with the back of your hand, clearing your tears away. That was it. You had drained every ounce of mournful emotion from your body that you had left that night. You dragged yourself back into the house, and up into your bedroom, where Rhett still lay peacefully. 

You went through the motions, deciding to get ready for bed. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and one of his flannels that smelled like him. Then, you administered another dose of medicine before you climbed into bed beside him and went through your phone to set an alarm for every half hour so you would remember to give him more doses. 

As you settled in, you rested your head upon his chest, whispered “I love you,” and closed your eyes. That night, you drifted in and out of a fitful slumber. Waking to give him medicine, plagued with bad dreams in between. Your mind kept replaying watching Kane plunge that dagger into him. The moment your life fell apart. 

You continuously found yourself between sleep and consciousness, until finally, when the sky began to very faintly lighten, you dragged yourself out of bed for the day. The hardwood floor was chill as you walked across it, and you shuddered as you rushed to gather your clothes for the day. Hurriedly, you changed, uncaring if you looked presentable or not. You had other things to attend to. 

As soon as you were dressed, you set to work taking care of Rhett. You knew that you needed to see to it that he was kept clean, especially so no infection set in. 

Doctor Tenpenny had returned late the night before, and you had told her she was welcome to sleep on the couch downstairs. You could easily ask her for help, but you didn’t want to, because this was a very intimate thing, and you wanted to be the one to care for your mate in this way. 

So you filled a small bucket with warm water, grabbed a towel and a washcloth, and set to work. Lovingly, you began to wipe him down, running the damp cloth over his body. He didn’t stir while you worked, he simply remained in his unconscious state, seemingly unaware that you were even doing this. 

You fought to hold your tears back. He was so vulnerable, and seeing him this way was incredibly difficult. You were so used to him being strong and steady. Now he could not even take care of himself. This powerful alpha was essentially reduced to a helpless child. 

But you couldn’t stand here and weep over him. You had to press on. So you took a steadying breath and continued your gentle washing of his body. You tenderly dabbed the dry towel against his skin to absorb any moisture, and then you carefully dressed him in a pair of sweatpants, leaving his upper body bare. 

You took the time to place a clean bandage over his wound, trying not to cry as you realized that it had gotten worse. The poison was sucking the life out of him, slowly but surely. 

There was a very real possibility that this doctor friend of Rose’s with the antidote would not show up in time. Oh, how you prayed that wouldn’t be the case. 

After you were finished dressing him, you gave him another dose of medicine, leaning down to kiss his forehead after you had done so. “Good morning, my love. Fight for me today,” you whispered. 

You hoped he could hear you. 

As you tucked the covers back over him, Doctor Tenpenny came up the stairs. For a moment, she watched you quietly, waiting before she gently alerted you with the quiet clearing of her throat. 

“I can watch him. Go get some food in you,” she urged. She noted the reluctant look on her face, and immediately shook her head. “That wasn’t a suggestion. I know you probably don’t have much of an appetite, but you need to keep your strength up. That pup in your belly needs you to.”

You sighed softly, hand coming up to rest over your abdomen. “I know,” you whispered. “I just…”

“I’ll yell if anything happens. Now go, feed yourself.”

You relented, shoulders slumping as you turned and headed down the stairs. She was right, you still needed to take care of yourself, even if you didn’t have the energy to do so. 

When you reached the kitchen, you found Cecilia already awake, preparing a pot of coffee. When she saw you, she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, they were darkened by grief over the state of her son. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart. How is he?”

“No change,” you murmured, voice hoarse. 

She nodded sadly. “I figured.” She closed the lid to the coffee maker and hit the on button. “Want me to make ya somethin’ to eat?”

“Sure, but…I don’t know what I can stomach,” you replied honestly. 

She held up her hand in a ‘say no more’ motion. “I’ve got just the thing.” She then set about making you some buttered toast, complete with a little cinnamon and sugar. On the side, a cup of chamomile tea. 

“This was all I could stomach when I was pregnant with each of my boys. It’ll at least give your stomach somethin’ to digest. Don’t want you collapsing on me now, because you didn’t eat.”

You whispered your thanks to her, taking a seat at the table to enjoy your toast. As you began eating, you hadn’t realized just how hungry you actually were. You devoured the piece of toast quickly. 

“Can I actually have another piece?” You asked, moments later. 

Cecilia smiled at that, and this time, it reached her eyes. 

As you were finishing your breakfast, the house began to stir. Arya was the first one awake, and she came padding cautiously out of her room. When she saw you sitting at the table, her pace quickened, and she ran straight to you. 

“Mama!” She exclaimed as she put her arms around your neck. 

You embraced your daughter, squeezing her to your chest. “Mornin’, baby.”

She pulled back to look into your face. “Is Daddy feeling better yet?”

You tried not to react emotionally as you shook your head. “No, he’s not.” You reached up to run your knuckles over her cheek. 

“But I thought Doctor Tenpenny was giving him medicine.” Her voice trembled. 

“She is, but it’s not going to heal him. All it’s doing is making sure he isn’t feeling as much pain as he was before.”

Tears welled in her eyes. As you looked into her little face, you saw her father so clearly in her features. In the shape of her nose and the quiver of her mouth as she tried to hold her tears back. “How is he going to get better then?”

You pulled her into you again, cradling her head against your chest. “Another doctor is coming to see him. He’s going to give Daddy a different kind of medicine that we hope will help him feel better.”

A few moments of silence before she spoke again. “I hope it works. I’m so scared, Mama.”

You saw no use in hiding your emotions from her. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

You held her there for a little while longer, until Amy emerged from her bedroom, followed by Max. Then, you parted from Arya and stood to have your children sit around the table while their grandmother made breakfast for them. 

You were eternally grateful to Cecilia for stepping in and helping you take care of the children. You knew there was no way you’d be able to do it without her. 

Although you longed to go upstairs and sit at Rhett’s bedside, you took a moment to spend time with your pups, because you knew how frightened they were. They needed their mother. 

You felt so torn. Part of your heart lay with Rhett in your bed. The other remained at the breakfast table with your kids. It was a very specific kind of pain that you could not describe with words. But your mind traveled back to the torment you had endured over seven years ago, at the hands of Patricia Tillerson. That was what you would liken it to. 

Cruel torture. 

The ache was incessant. And it only worsened as you kissed the top of each child’s head and finally made your way back upstairs. As expected, Rhett was in the same place that you’d left him. But this time, Doctor Tenpenny had news. 

“I just got a call from Klaus,” she said, and at that, you immediately perked up. “He’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, thank god,” you whispered, placing your hand over your heart. 

Cautiously, she stepped toward you, placing her hand on your arm. “Listen to me. He might not have that much time. We’re already pushing our luck. You need to know that I only have enough ingredients left to make one more round of medicine. If we use it sparingly it will last us until tomorrow, but I don’t know how his body will react to lessening the dose. I don’t…I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep him alive.”

“All we can do is try,” you simply said. You felt so powerless. Hope was so close you could almost taste it, but Death hovered even closer, waiting to strike, prepared to steal your mate from you. 

Don’t take him from me. 

While Rose left to retrieve more ingredients from her clinic, you sat with Rhett, holding his hand in yours. You lovingly stroked your thumb over his knuckles, staring at the way your fingers wrapped around his hand. Your mind drifted to your wedding day, where you had stood in front of your pack, your hands in his much larger ones, pleasing your love and eternal loyalty to each other. 

It had been one of the most joyous days of your life. 

That day, you had made a blood oath to each other, which had joined yours and his packs together as one. But now, his blood was poisoned. 

What if he slipped away before Klaus could even get here? What if you had to hold him in your arms as the life left his body? The thought sent a terrible ache through your chest. 

“Please, just hold on a little longer.” You were so exhausted. So tired of begging him to stay with you. 

What if he wasn’t meant to stay with you? You couldn’t fathom a life without him, it didn’t make sense. But what if fate had its own plans, that involved taking him from you? What if your lot in life was to go on without him?

Could you truly do that? Could you walk around with only half of your soul? It seemed impossible. It seemed excruciating. But you had to prepare yourself for the very real possibility that he wasn’t going to survive. He was already on borrowed time. This medicine Rose was giving him could only do so much. 

Were you willing to give him permission to let go? Even though losing him would be torment, you also did not want him to suffer. You didn’t want him to struggle for every breath, you didn’t want him to have to fight constantly just to stay alive. 

A soft sob left your throat, and you leaned forward, lifting his hand in yours, resting your forehead upon it. You wanted to plead with him to stay. Wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy your surroundings. 

But instead, you spoke softly. “If…if you need to let go…” but you couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t force them onto your tongue, because speaking them out loud made them reality. Your soft sobs grew in volume. “Oh, god. Rhett, I…I’m trying to be strong right now. I’m trying to be okay with letting you go, but I can’t! I feel like my soul is being ripped from my body. I’m losing you and I don’t know how to stop it!”

You were wailing at that point. Great, heaving cries. You were so tired. So fucking tired. The rollercoaster of emotions. The grief. The denial. The hope. The fear. You experienced all of it in the course of five minutes, and it was a never-ending cycle. You felt as if you were going insane. As if your grief would crush you beneath its weight. 

But your moment of despair was soon interrupted when Doctor Tenpenny returned. You managed to pull yourself together, drying your tears as she set to work preparing another round of medicine for Rhett. 

And so, the waiting game began. 

That day was one of the most agonizing days of your life. Time seemed to slow, minutes dragging into hours, as if someone had filled an hourglass with molasses. Periodically throughout the day, you went downstairs to eat meals and to be with your children. But as evening began to fall, Rhett took a turn for the worse. 

You were downstairs, helping Cecilia and Amy get the kids ready for bed, when Doctor Tenpenny came rushing down the stairs, her face grim. 

“I need you to come upstairs right now,” she said. 

Filled with trepidation, you followed her, your legs as heavy as lead. “Is he dying?” You managed to whisper. 

She didn’t answer, she simply kept going until she’d brought you to the bedroom. There, Rhett was still in the same place you had left him. “He’s burning up with fever,” she said. “It’s dangerously high. I’m trying to bring it down but with how quickly his temperature is rising…honey, I don’t know if he’s going to make it through the night.”

You thought more tears would come. You thought you would sink to your knees as the severity of your emotions overwhelmed you. But instead, you simply stood there, staring at him, unmoving. 

For the first time since this terrifying ordeal had begun, you felt numb. There were no tears left to cry. There were no wails of pain to be uttered. All you could do was slowly step forward and gingerly take a seat at his bedside. 

So this was it. This was the end, wasn’t it? You were faced with a decision. The most difficult one you’d ever make. “I’ll go gather up the kids. I want…I want him surrounded by love when he dies.”

As you descended the stairs again, you wondered if this was acceptance. How quickly you had gone from begging him to hold on, to now rounding up your little ones to say goodbye to him. 

You stepped into Arya’s room, where you found her huddled up in bed, her favorite stuffed animal clutched to her chest, still awake. When she saw you, she sat up, her face morphing into confusion. 

“Mama?”

“Baby, we’re going to spend the night upstairs with Daddy.” 

She perked up at that. “Is he all better now?”

Mournfully, you shook your head. “No. I just want us all to be around him tonight, okay? Now get your stuffy and your blanket. I’m going to go wake your brother and sisters.”

As you stepped out of the room, Amy caught you in the hall. “What’s going on?” She quietly asked, her face tight with concern.

You reached out, taking her hand in your own. “I don’t think he’s going to make it through the night. I’m getting the kids and we’re all going to sleep upstairs. I want…I want him to be surrounded by all of us. Want him to feel as much love as possible.”

Amy’s eyes welled with tears, and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth. “No,” she whispered.

You pulled her toward you, wrapping your arms around her. “Go get Cecilia. I want both of you up there too.”

You embraced for a long moment, soon releasing her so you could continue rousing your little ones from their beds. Soon, with your smallest one, Zoella, gathered safely in your arms, and Arya, Max, and Leia all trailing after you, you made your way back upstairs. 

You felt like you were not of your body. As if you had detached from yourself, and were watching the scene unfold before you from the outside looking in. You saw yourself guiding your children toward the bed. You saw yourself spreading blankets on the floor for them to sleep on. You saw yourself kissing the tops of their heads and telling them to hug their father goodnight. 

You weren’t the only one experiencing an out-of-body sensation. While Rhett lay perfectly still on the bed, he found himself standing in the corner of the room, watching as you got the pups settled. A cold hand rested on his shoulder, and he turned his head to find he was staring into the haunting gray eyes of Death. 

“It’s time,” she whispered. 

His gaze shifted back to his family. His mate. His pups. His mother. His niece. The ones he loved most in this world. The ones he could not bring himself to leave behind. “No,” he breathed. “No, I’ve still got lots of life left to live. I have a new little’n to meet. I have a family to raise. You’re not takin’ me yet.”

Death laughed, though it was a grating sound that reverberated through his head. “You think you have a say here, Abbott? You have no ground to stand on. When I say it is time, then it is time. I’ve come to take what’s owed me.”

Rhett shrugged her hand off of his shoulder, stepping away from her. “No, you’re not fuckin’ taking me! It’s not my time yet!” He exclaimed.

She only smiled, shaking her head, long dark hair swirling about her shoulders. “You’re a foolish one, aren’t you? This is fate, Rhett Abbott. You belong to me now.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he shook his head. “Give me until sunrise, please. As soon as the sun starts peekin’ over that horizon, I’m yours, fair and square.”

For a moment, Death seemed to consider this. Then, “Fine. You have until sunrise. No later.”

And then she was gone, leaving Rhett standing alone in the corner, watching helplessly as his family surrounded him, certain he was going to slip away. He had no idea if he was going to survive this. How could he? Even now, outside of his body, he could feel how weak he was. The wolfsbane had sucked all the energy out of him, rendering his body weak and frail. 

Could he truly fight this? Could he defy Death? For his family’s sake, he hoped so. He didn’t want to leave his babies. They still needed him. And he had yet to meet the little pup you carried within your belly. Another boy, he knew because of the way your scent had changed. It was the same as when you’d been carrying Max. 

He wanted to be there when that little one was born. But now, as he watched on, he realized that mortality truly was catching up to him, and he might not get a chance to continue the life he’d built with you. Was it really all for naught? Finding his mate, starting a family, achieving alpha status, all for it to come to an end in such a short time?

You had no idea that he was watching you. No idea that he was battling Death in the corner while you stood at his bedside, trying to be strong for your children. You had just gotten them settled in, after making up little sleeping spots on the floor for each of them, with Cecilia’s help. 

You tucked each child in, and then, you took a seat on the bed, beside Rhett. Amy and Cecilia sat at the end, wanting to be close by. Doctor Tenpenny graciously excused herself to head back downstairs to her sleeping spot on the couch, allowing your family this private moment, informing you to call for her if he got worse. 

After she left, Amy could no longer contain her emotions. Quietly, she began to weep, her shoulders shaking as she cried over the man who, essentially, was her father. Her grandmother pulled her in close, cradling the young woman to her chest. 

“Shh,” she soothed, rocking slightly from side to side as her hand came up to rest against the back of Amy’s head.

Of your children, it was Max who rose from his bed, driven by his tender heart. He wrapped his arms around Amy, and the sight brought your previously vacant tears back to the surface again. Arya followed her brother, and Leia, not wanting to be left out, joined both siblings as they crowded around Amy and Cecilia. Both women moved to hug the children, creating a little huddle at the end of the bed. The somber atmosphere had rendered everyone silent. But no words were needed. 

You did not move from Rhett’s side. Instead, you took his hand in your own, squeezing it gently, all while you cuddled a sleepy Zoella to your chest. Here, you had two of your greatest loves in your arms. One so full of life, and the other barely holding onto it. 

It felt as if your heart was being torn in two. You supposed that feeling would never go away.

But it was eased a little by the presence of your children. That night, instead of sleeping on the makeshift beds you’d set up on the floor for them, they all crowded into the bed. You didn’t turn them away, because you realized how much you needed them. Those four babies were your only comfort during the most difficult moment of your life. 

As they all drifted off, you remained awake. The room was blanketed by a moment of peace, with each child sound asleep, and Amy and Cecilia asleep on air mattresses on the floor. In those midnight hours, you huddled against Rhett’s side, hyper aware of every breath he took. You were waiting. Waiting to hear his breathing grow shallow. Waiting to hear his heart slow to a stop.

You listened for hours, so terrified that he was going to pass, and you would miss it. 

But sometime during the night, your body succumbed to your exhaustion. You slipped into a restless slumber, still partially aware of your surroundings. And then, in a dreamlike state, you saw something. 

A woman, standing at Rhett’s bedside, caressing his face. Your body went cold as you sat upright. Her gaze flickered to you, and she smiled. A haunting smile that made your heart sink. Her cold, gray eyes seemed to peer straight into your soul. She was beautiful, in an unsettling way. And you already knew who she was. 

“Get away from him,” you commanded. 

She sighed. “My dear, the sun will rise in just a few short hours, and he will be mine.”

“No, you can’t have him,” came your snarl. 

“You think you have any say in the matter?” Her fingers traced over his mouth. “I will kiss his sweet lips and drink his life force.”

“No! Get away! Get away, get away, get away!” You were shouting, flashing your golden irises, as if you could threaten Death herself. It didn’t work that way. You had no power over her. No leverage. She did what she wished and answered to no one. 

But then, all of a sudden, you heard the sound of knocking. Faint at first, but it soon grew so much louder. Death disappeared into the shadows, and you came to full consciousness as you gasped. 

Someone was at the door. 

Your heart seized in your chest as you hurriedly lept from the bed, startling the entire room awake in your haste. But you kept going, scrambling down the stairs as fast as you could. Doctor Tenpenny had reached the door already, and she did not wait for you to join her. She pulled it open to reveal Malakai on your doorstep, and there was someone behind him. Someone you didn’t know.

“He tells me he’s here for Rhett,” your uncle spoke.

He stepped aside, and you knew this stranger was the one who held the antidote that could save your mate’s life. Doctor Klaus Forrester. Highly skilled in lycanthropic medicine. 

“Klaus!” Rose exclaimed, reaching out to grab his arm. “Come! Come! We haven’t much time.”

He jumped into action, pushing past Malakai as he strode into the house. “What are we working with, Rose?” He asked as he followed her to the stairs. 

“He’s not well. I’ve given him an herbal paste to slow the spread of the poison, but it can only do so much. He’s burning up with fever. It’s been touch and go all night.”

Once the three of you made it to the bedroom, Klaus turned to you. “You. You’re his mate?”

“Yes,” you answered, voice thick with emotion.

The doctor nodded before he glanced about the room at the sleepy, frightened children. “The pups must go,” he continued, “they cannot be present while I’m working.”

“But–”

“Young wolf, I assure you, you do not want them to see what it about to happen. This antidote is vicious in the way that it attacks the poison in his blood. I do not know how he will respond to treatment. So please, get your children out of the room until it is over.”

Cecilia and Amy were already awake. Had been from the moment they’d heard the pounding on the door. They shared a look, and in seconds, they both sprang into action, gathering your pups, even as they expressed fear. 

“Mama, what’s happening?” Arya tearfully asked, running to you, pressing herself to your side. 

You knelt so that you were eye level with her. “Go with Grandma and Amy, okay? We’re going to try to help Daddy feel better. You can come back up when it’s over, understood?” You cupped her face lovingly, thumb stroking her cheek.

Bottom lip quivering, she nodded. “O-okay.” 

And with that, all four children were ushered down the steps. That left you, both doctors, and Malakai, who had just joined all of you in the bedroom. Anxiety roiled in your gut, and your hands trembled as you stepped forward, watching Klaus as he set his supplies out on the end of the bed. 

“How long has it been since he was poisoned?” He asked. 

“Three days,” Rose answered.

He shook his head, his brow raising. “He might be too far gone.” Then he turned to you, his face somber. “I will do what I can, but I cannot promise that this will work. It is very difficult to come by the ingredients for this antidote, and this is the last vial I have. If it does not work, there is no way to save him. With how long the poison has been in his system, it is going to be extremely challenging for the antidote to fight it.”

It sounded like you were damned either way. “I’m already losing him. Just get it over with,” you responded, defeated, broken, destroyed.

Doctor Forrester nodded. “Very well.” Then he turned to Malakai. “You. I will need your help to hold him down if his body physically reacts. This process is going to be very painful for him and the body will not respond well at first.”

Malakai stepped forward to assist the doctor. Silently, you moved to stand at Rhett’s bedside, gazing down at him, so peaceful in this state. It would only last for so long. 

Klaus set to work preparing the antidote, and you watched as he dipped a large syringe into a vial, filling the chamber of the syringe with the liquid inside. You were silent and unmoving, so terrified of what was to come. Malakai squeezed your shoulder. It did little to comfort your crumbling heart. 

Klaus spoke instructions to Rose, and she worked alongside him with the practiced ease of an old partner. They had worked together before. They were a team. But could they save your Rhett? Could they bring him back to you?

Klaus prepared a spot on Rhett’s arm for the needle to be inserted, disinfecting the area before he tapped on the syringe to release any air bubbles. Then, he began to carefully insert the needle into Rhett’s vein. On a silent count, he pressed down on the plunger, effectively releasing the antidote into his bloodstream. 

And just like that, it was done. The last of the wolfsbane antidote was now flowing through Rhett’s veins. All that was left to do was wait and pray that it would work. For a few minutes, nothing happened. Rhett remained still. The room was heavy with silence. 

And then, a sharp intake of breath.

You froze. 

Another gasp. Then another. You watched in surprise as Rhett’s chest heaved. His face began to contort into an expression of pain. He groaned softly, and then a little louder. Klaus knew what was happening. “It’s entering his system,” he said. Then he looked at you. “If this works, this is going to bring him to the brink of death as it purges the poison.”

You nodded, unable to speak. Your gaze flickered from the doctor to Rhett, as he took another great, heaving gasp. He shifted against the bed, and then, his sounds of pain grew louder. Sweat had begun to form on his brow. His limbs shook. His breathing grew labored. 

“Come on, Rhett. Come on,” you found yourself whispering. 

His body jolted. He growled, and his hands curled into fists. You gasped as he began to writhe. His muscles tensed, and his jaw clenched, so hard you feared he might break his teeth. His head turned from side to side against the pillow. Again, he growled, but this time, he sounded like a wounded animal, crying out in the forest as its leg was captured in the vicious jaws of a steel trap.

It was pitiful, and it sent a new wave of tears welling in your eyes. He grew louder still, and he began to thrash, fighting against the terrible agony that plagued him. “Hold him down,” Klaus spoke.

Hesitantly, Malakai moved to place his hands against Rhett’s shoulders, holding him in place. And that’s when Rhett seemed to come to a slight state of consciousness. You covered your mouth with your hand, shaking your head as you stepped back. You wanted to look away. You wanted to cover your ears. But you remained frozen in place, unable to move, unable to do anything else but watch as the love of your life seized in pain.

And then the cries started.

He let out a harrowing wail, so deep and raw that it nearly brought you to your knees. You could feel it then. Every last bit of his pain, coursing through you as if you were the one lying in that bed experiencing it firsthand. He cried, he howled, he fought and thrashed and clawed and scratched.

His claws tore the sheets to shreds, and left bloodied scratches down Malakai’s forearms. But the older wolf did not flinch. He held Rhett in place with all his strength, even as he fought with all his might to escape it. 

The sounds of torment would not stop. They filled your ears and reverberated through your skull. Your body vibrated, filled with an unspeakable agony. And you cried. You lifted your hands to your ears, and you shouted, “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!” 

But it didn’t stop. And you found yourself sinking to your knees, sobbing, shaking your head as you tried to drown out your husband’s screams. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. No more, no more, no more. 

All you could see was white flooding your vision, blinding you, searing through you like fire. You bowed in on yourself, curling into a fetal position, all while Rose Tenpenny rushed to your side, wrapping her arms around you as you wept brokenly. 

And then, suddenly, you were not of your own body again. You were standing outside of yourself, watching the scene unfold. You stood at the end of the bed, and you saw her then. Death, hovering over Rhett, her hands wrapped around his throat, strangling him.

“NO!” You yelled at the top of your lungs.

“It’s time, wolf! The sun is rising!” She exclaimed.

Rhett clamped his hand around her forearm, fighting with all his might to remove her hands from his throat. He shook from exertion, his face red, his brow furrowed in determination. You surged forward, wrapping your arms around Death’s narrow waist, pulling at her with every ounce of strength you could muster. 

“LET HIM GO!” 

She leaned in, her mouth hovering over his own, and there, Rhett stared into her eyes. Cold and gray and dead. “You’re mine, Rhett Abbott.” 

You couldn’t pull her away from him. Couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t save him.

To your horror, Death brought her lips down to rest upon his, kissing him deeply. But something was wrong. In a strange twist of fate, Death pulled back, confusion written on her face. And that’s when she saw it. Rhett’s eyes were glowing red as fiery embers, clear and bright. 

He snarled. “Not this time, bitch.” 

Death let out a sickening gasp, just before Rhett reached up and slashed his claws against her throat. She dissolved into a cloud of sparkling black dust, and your arms, which had been wrapped around her, were empty. 

Your head snapped up, and you looked into Rhett’s face. You tried to speak to him, but in an instant, the scene faded, and you sat up with a gasp, returning to the reality of the moment. Doctor Tenpenny was still hovering over you, a careful hand placed upon your shoulder. It was as if nothing had changed. Except now, the room was quiet. No more cries of pain. 

You sat up, looking up at the woman above you. Against her cautioning, you suddenly scrambled to your feet, gripping the end of the bedframe to pull yourself upright. Confusion struck you as you realized Rhett still appeared to be unresponsive, his body still against the bed.

The only inclinations that he’d just fought for his very life were the shredded sheets and the healing claw marks on Malakai’s arms. And then Rose’s arm was around your shoulders. “You need to rest for a minute,” she told you, concerned. She had just seen you collapse. She worried for your well-being, and for the well-being of the pup you carried. 

But you? You thought of nothing but Rhett. “Is he…is he okay?” You asked, as Rose guided you to the bed, urging you to take a seat. You did, climbing in beside Rhett, your gaze never leaving his form.

Doctor Forrester was checking Rhett’s pulse. He didn’t answer you right away, and it spiked your anxiety. “Doctor? He’s okay, right?” You repeated yourself. 

He finally looked at you. “I can tell you that the worst is behind him. But he’s still not out of the woods yet. He needs at least twenty-four hours to recover. I won’t know for sure that the antidote did its job until he wakes up and I can give him a thorough examination.”

So it wasn’t over yet? You still had to worry about whether he’d survive or not. The thought sent you collapsing against the bed, curling against his side. 

“Everyone, leave,” you said. 

“I don’t know that—” Rose began, but you cut her off. 

“Leave. I want to be alone with my husband.”

No one argued. Klaus, Rose, and Malakai quietly excused themselves from your presence, and as soon as they were gone, you buried your face against Rhett’s neck, and you wept. 

What you had just experienced was the most harrowing event of your life. Paramount even to the suffering you had been subjected to when you were taken by the Tillersons. 

You had just witnessed your mate nearly lose his life, you had felt every last bit of pain he did, and you watched him fight Death with his bare hands. All of that, and you still had no idea if he was going to survive or not. 

You had no words left to speak. All you could do was continue to cry. And you did so until you were overwhelmed with utter exhaustion. You succumbed to sleep, allowing your weariness to wash over you in waves. 

You had no idea how long you slept. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. But you were dead to the world, entirely unaware of what was going on outside of this bedroom. 

You were so deep in the throes of slumber that you did not notice the warm, familiar hand sliding up your arm. Nor did you hear the intake of breath in your ear. 

In fact, you were sleeping so heavily that you did not hear these two simple words. “Little wolf.”

They were echoing somewhere. From a far-off place, traveling faintly through the air as a fond smile tugged at your mouth. You knew that voice. It was so comforting and kind. It greeted you every morning, and sang softly to you every night. 

You tried to focus on the voice. Tried to hold onto it and not let go. Again it spoke. Deep and rumbling. Permeating your dreams. Summoning you to consciousness. 

You woke with a gasp, scrambling to sit upright. You hadn’t been dreaming it, had you? You turned abruptly, eyes falling upon the man beside you. Staring back at you were those beautiful blues that you loved so much. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “You’re…you’re really here?”

His mouth curled into the softest of smiles, and he moved to sit upright, leaning closer to you. “I’m here,”

You melted into a fit of sobs, but this time, they were joyous. Surging forward, you collided with him, throwing your arms around his neck as his own arms came up to encircle your waist. 

He held you as you wept, your body trembling in his arms from the force of your emotion. “Y-you’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive,” you repeated in disbelief. 

Rhett squeezed his eyes shut, nuzzling closer to you. Tears began to trail their own way down his cheeks. The last several hours had been amongst the most difficult hours of his life. He felt as if he had just fought in battle. And he had. A battle between Life and Death. 

Life had won. 

And now here he was, holding his mate in his arms. Your cries broke his heart. He hated that you had been put through all of this. But he was grateful that he could be here, now, to comfort you. 

You pulled back to look into his face, your shaking hands coming up to cup his cheeks. Your thumbs dried his tears. “I thought…I thought I was going to lose you,” you whimpered. 

“I’m here now, and I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he whispered with conviction. 

Again, you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight, as if you were afraid he’d float away if you let go. But he was right. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was here in your arms, and he was alive. All the agony, the fighting, the fear. It was behind you now. 

It was replaced by an all-consuming warmth, flowing through you like a comforting hug. An unspeakable sense of relief and peace. The storm had passed. The sun had broken through the clouds.

Your mate was alive. It was time to rejoice. 

Tears still trailing down your cheeks, you pulled back to look into Rhett’s face. His beautiful, kind face. With his stubble-shaded jaw and his button nose and his big, round cerulean eyes that crinkled around the edges when he smiled. 

You traced your fingers over his cheeks, which dimpled when he grinned. You circled your thumb over his lips, the ones that always kissed you so lovingly. You memorized the shape and feel of his face beneath your hands, so relieved that he was here, and he was real, and he was alive. 

“I love you,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I love you so much.”

Bottom lip quivering, he hummed. “I love you too, little wolf. More than anythin’.” He placed his hand gently upon your rounded belly, where his pup safely lay. 

You embraced again, crying softly as you held him close. “I was so scared,” you whimpered. 

He let out a shuddering breath. “So was I,” he admitted. “Was fuckin’ terrified.”

Again, you leaned back to look into his face. “Thank you for fighting,” came your whisper. “For coming back to us.”

“I’ll always fight like hell for you. Our story ain’t over yet, little wolf. We still got more to write.”

You smiled despite yourself, wiping at your tears. “I should…I should go get the doctor. Have him make sure you’re okay. He used the last of his wolfsbane antidote to save you.”

Rhett shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve gotta thank him,” he said. 

You leaned in and kissed him once more. “I’ll go get him.”

Your peaceful reunion came to an end as, reluctantly, you slipped out of his arms, climbing out of bed and making your way toward the steps. 

You were quick to descend them, making your way downstairs where you found both doctors sitting at the kitchen table, alongside Cecilia and Malakai. Cups of coffee were in front of them all. Nobody was speaking. They all wore somber expressions. 

But then, hope. 

“Rhett’s awake,” you called out. 

Cecilia’s head snapped up, and her eyes widened as she immediately stood. “He is?”

“He’s awake and he’s talking.”

Klaus rose from his seat. “I’ll check on him,” he announced, already making a beeline for the steps. You trailed after, interested in what he would say when he examined Rhett. 

In the bedroom, he found Rhett sitting upright in bed. “Hi there, Rhett. I’m Doctor Klaus Forrester.” And then, “you gave us quite the scare there, you know that?”

Rhett nodded, letting out a breath. “I know,” he murmured. 

“You, my friend, are lucky to be alive. Quite frankly, I’d consider it a miracle. With how long that poison had been in your system, it’s a wonder the antidote was even able to work. You’re a testament to true resilience.”

Rhett smiled softly. “I had a lot to fight for,” came his reply, as his gaze shifted to you, fondness shining in his eyes. 

Klaus turned to glance back at you, and he hummed lowly in agreement. “You did.” Then, his attention shifted back to Rhett. 

You moved to sit at the edge of the bed, watching as the doctor began to check Rhett over. He checked his blood pressure, his pulse, his breathing. Silently, you prayed that everything would be okay. That his health was restored and he was on the road to recovery. 

As he was working, Doctor Tenpenny joined the three of you, and she gently coaxed you into letting her check on you, too. “Your poor body has been through a lot these last few days. Let’s just make sure everything is all good, and that baby is healthy.”

You settled into the bed, right beside Rhett, as Rose checked yours and your baby’s vitals. Much to your relief, everything was perfectly fine, however, she did note your elevated heart rate, and told you to spend the next few days resting after the harrowing things you had experienced.

Knowing it was all over was such a strange feeling. Rhett had gone through the valley of the shadow of death, and you had walked through it alongside him. In the midst, it felt as if you would never make it out to the other side. And yet, here you were, both very much alive. However, not unscathed. The trauma you had experienced during these last few days would stick with you for the rest of your lives. But you would be that much stronger together because of it.

“Well, it looks like you’re going to make a full recovery, Rhett,” Klaus announced, after he’d finished his examination. “I advise you to take it easy for at least a week, until you get your strength back. It’s going to take you a lot longer to fully heal, since you were so close to dying.”

“Thank you,” Rhett said. “Really. I’m grateful. You saved my life, doc. Gave me more time with my family.”

Klaus shook his head. “All I did was inject you with an antidote. Your body did the rest. You’re one determined son of a bitch. Excusin’ my French,” he said with a wry smile.

Rhett returned the smile. “I put Death in her place,” he said. He reached over and squeezed your hand. You squeezed right back. 

“What do we owe you for the antidote?” You asked. 

The doctor shook his head, waving his hand. “Nothing. Considering the circumstances, I don’t want anything for it. Just save your money to take care of your family.”

“Are you sure? You said it’s the last of your antidote. Don’t you need more funding to make more?” You continued.

“Don’t you worry about that. I’m happy to do this service for you. Knowing your pups still have their daddy is compensation enough.”

Your eyes welled with tears, and you were overcome with emotion at his kindness. “Thank you,” you whispered. You looked at Rose. The doctor who you had known your whole life. The one who had delivered each of your children. “And thank you. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

And it was true. Rhett would be dead if Rose hadn’t been there. She was the reason he’d been able to get the antidote in the first place. You were eternally grateful to her for calling Klaus for help. 

“I think our work here is done,” she spoke up, glancing at Klaus. “I’m sure the two of you would like to enjoy your reunion in peace.”

You shot her a smile. “Thank you, again.” And then, “would you tell Cecilia and Amy to come up here? They need to see him too.”

And with that, the two doctors responsible for saving your husband’s life bid you their farewell, and left the room. Moments later, your mother-in-law and niece came rushing upstairs, eager to see Rhett healthy and whole again.

When Cecilia saw him, she immediately rushed forward. “Rhett!” Her arms were thrown around his neck, and for the first time since he was a small child, she cradled her boy in her arms, rocking side to side as she cried, whispering silent praises to God for sparing his life. 

Your gaze flickered to Amy, who remained at the top of the stairs, her eyes glimmering with tears in her eyes. As Cecilia slowly pulled away from Rhett, he looked over her shoulder, and he saw what you were looking at. 

Reaching his arm out, he motioned Amy forward, and in an instant, she crumpled into a fit of sobs, rushing forward and falling into his arms, trembling with the force of her emotions. “I thought you were going to die!” She wailed.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, soothing her. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

The three of you surrounded him, huddled in close, just relishing in this moment of utter relief. Rhett felt so loved, so cherished. After the suffering he had endured, the tenderness he was now experiencing at the hands of the three most important women in his life was something he savored.

But all too soon, the reunion was interrupted by Malakai. However, his presence was welcome. In a sign of deep reverence and respect for his alpha, he knelt at the side of the bed and bowed his head before he looked up at Rhett. “I cannot tell you how good it is to see you alive,” he confessed. 

“It’s good to be alive, Malakai,” Rhett replied with earnest.

Malakai slowly rose to his feet. “I wanted to ask your blessing to tell the other pack members that you’re alive. Everyone has been waiting anxiously to hear how you’re doing.”

“Go on. Tell ‘em I’m alive and not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” Rhett said. And then, “What about Kane and his wolves?”

The older wolf’s face turned grim. “He’s dead. We defeated most of his wolves, but a few of them are still out there. We’ve been keeping watch the last few days, but I have a feeling they won’t be back.”

“And were there any casualties?”

“I’m afraid so. You weren’t in the position to make any decisions, so I had to ask your wife here if I could hold vigils to honor our fallen wolves.”

Rhett sighed softly before he reached out to grasp your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Tell the families to come see me in a few days. I want to talk to all of them personally,” he said. His tone was serious, and his eyes were sad. The thought of losing pack members broke his heart. 

“I will,” Malakai promised. 

“Thank you.”

“Anything else you need, you let me know, alright? Wanna do what I can to take care of my alpha.”

Not wanting to encroach further, Malakai quietly excused himself, allowing your family privacy again. But there were still four small pups that had yet to see that their father was okay. Cecilia volunteered to go get them, excitedly rushing downstairs to bring them to him.

You and Rhett waited with bated breath, and a few minutes later, you could hear their whispered chattering as they all came up the stairs, with Cecilia holding Zoella in her arms. Arya and Max were the ones who reached the top of the stairs first. 

You would never forget the looks on their precious little faces when they saw Rhett alive and well. It was like Christmas morning. “DADDY!” They shrieked, and within seconds, they were swarming the bed, and the room was filled with joyful giggles once again. A distinct contrast to the fearful cries they had once uttered as they witnessed their father upon his deathbed. 

As Rhett welcomed his little ones into his arms, cradling them close, he wept, for he could not contain his joy. He was crowded, surrounded by little hands, grabbing at him, hugging him, and tears ran down his cheeks. 

“Daddy’s here, little pups,” he breathed. “I’m here.”

The moment was amongst the most precious he had ever experienced, save for the day each child was born, of course. Life was as it should be again. The pain and suffering of the last few days had passed, replaced with a moment of healing and peace. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” he assured you, as you snuggled in close, joining the sweet embrace. 

Rhett held his children close for what felt like hours after that. None of them wanted to be apart from him, and that was okay with him, because he did not want to let go. It broke his heart that they had to experience such a traumatic instance, inadvertently caused by him. But what mattered most was that he was still here, with his babies. He could hold them and kiss them and tell them how much he loved them. 

And then there was you. His light. His love. His mate. The best thing that had ever happened to him. As the pups snuggled around you both, he reached out, cupping your cheek. “I love you, little wolf,” he confessed. 

You leaned into his touch. “And I love you.”

For the next few days, every available moment was spent in that bed, all together as a family. Respectfully, Amy and Cecilia allowed you to share that time without their presence, even though you assured them they were more than welcome. They wanted to give you and your children space as you all recovered from what you had endured. 

Lazy snow days were spent watching old Christmas movies, huddled together beneath blankets, never far from Rhett. The time spent together was therapeutic. You allowed your children to sleep in the room for the next few nights, knowing they needed to feel that security.

But time began to pass, as it always did. Life slowly began to return to normal. Rhett’s strength improved, and his body healed. He was able to assume his duties as alpha over his pack again. But this time, he had a renewed zeal about him. A new appreciation for life and its sanctity. 

He never took a moment for granted. 

–

As the months passed, and winter began to melt into spring, something happened. 

A new life joined your pack. Magnus Alexander Abbott was coincidentally born beneath the light of the full moon, in an unexpected turn of events. Rhett was the one who helped you bring the child into the world, catching Magnus in his arms as he made his grand entrance.

Together, you wept for joy as Rhett placed the little one on your chest. To think, you had almost lost him. But now here he was, having just delivered your second son, his eyes shining with tears of disbelief. 

He thanked the heavens for allowing him to take part in this sacred moment. For allowing him to live. He held you in his arms as the two of you experienced your son’s first moments earthside, and Rhett knew he wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. 

He had gone through hell to get here. And so had you. But in the end, you had both survived. He knew, in that very moment, that as long as you had each other, you could face anything that came your way. Even Death itself. 

And that following morning, as you introduced your children to the new little one you had just brought into the world, Rhett gazed at you with love burning brightly in his heart, and he knew that everything was going to be alright. 

You would be faced with trials along the way. Life would never be perfect. But that was okay, because, in the end, you would always have one another. Your bond as mates would never die. And neither would your love for each other. 

Fin.

-

taglist:

@bradshawsbitch @laracrofted @sebsxphia @milesmillergf @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @damrlova @just-in-case-iloveyou @theliterarybeldam @nobody7102 @agentorange9595 @powerlvr25 @mygyn @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @callsign-magnolia @briseisgone @up-thereinthesky @attapullman @auroralightsthesky @bcarolinablr @ryebecca @ohtobeleah @floydsmuse @blindedbythelightt @combat-sixty-three

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital illustration of Dorian Storm and Orym from Critical Role. They're both wearing modern clothing (though Dorian's is still elaborate) and Dorian is holding a cardboard tray of to-go coffees while Orym carries his own drink in his hand. They're holding hands between them, Orym reaching up to hold onto Dorian's index finger. Dorian is wearing a white, open shirt, dark trousers, knee high black leather platform boots, and a blue jacket with a sunset coloured lining that has gold decorations on the shoulders shaped like layered feathers. Orym is wearing a cropped green hoodie with no right sleeve and a simple brown leather harness over it, jeans, and white, green, and blue sneakers. Orym is drawn with a long thin tail with a fluffy end. End description.]

Coffee run!

[violetrains]

i love you tinker bell i love you silvermist i love you rosetta i love you iridessa i love you fawn i love you vidia i love you clank and bobble i love you terrence i love you queen clarion i love you fairy mary i love you pixie hollow i love you neverland i love you pixie dust i love you lost things i love you cute little fairy dresses made of flower petals and leaves i love you pompoms on tinker bell's shoes i love you music box with the ballerina that belongs to wendy darling i love you nature magic powers i love you tinkerfairy inventions i love you animal companions i love you fairy humor i love you fairy lore i love you tinker bell soundtrack i love you credits at the end with the cute illustrations i love you disney fairies movies i love you tales of pixie hollow books i love you tinker bell franchise

[runningoutofbooks]

Found in my library’s copy of Tinker Belles and Evil Queens by Sean Griffin

[keepontruckinlucky]

Tears in my eyes as I write this...

G, my darling (I hope that's okay to call you), this is spectacular. You conveyed every emotion I know that all the women in my life have felt at one point or another, whether it was a miscarriage, a stillbirth, or infertility.

This was so beautifully written. Jake's explanation of what happened, Elle making sure that her Mama was safe, and Alex!!! Sweet baby Alex making sure to plant white roses because he remembered Bradley doing it for Dragon and Ida. 🥺🥺🥺

All My Heart & All My Being | Jake x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: Jake & Y/N are given devastating news on what was supposed to be a routine midwife visit. Jake navigates how to tell his kids about the circle of life.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: miscarriage, tears, fear of doctors, cursing, talks of death, canon character death, mentions of depression, mentions of stillbirths

note: miscarriages happen in 1 out of 4 pregnancies. Most miscarriages are spontaneous, meaning that you did nothing to cause it. miscarriages are never your fault, and it doesn't make you any less of a parent. Angel baby parents are still parents.

Jake couldn’t hide his excitement. It was Y/N’s second ultrasound since she had discovered she was pregnant. It was the appointment where they were finally going to hear their baby’s heartbeat. Even though they had been here twice before, the same butterflies and nervous feelings still arose in their bellies. Jake was trying his best to not crush Y/N’s hand with his strong grip as they waited for the doctor to come in. 

Jake was halfway out of the chair he was sitting in, at eye level with Y/N’s bare belly. His eyes were wide as he was retelling the story of his last dogfight with Rooster and Coyote. Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face as she ran her hand through his soft blonde hair. 

“And then, I broke right, turning right into the sun with Rooster still hot on my tail, but the ol’ man still hasn’t learned any new tricks,” Jake laughed, “He lost me in the sun, and I was able to turn quickly and get behind him to get missile lock on him.” 

“Going to turn this one into an aviator before they’re even born,” Y/N giggled. Jake looked up at her with pure admiration and love in his green eyes. 

“They’ve got a handful of uncles and aunts who will turn them into an aviator if I don’t,” Jake said as there was a soft knock on the door. Y/N sat up on her elbows and told whoever it was to come in, but Jake’s eyebrows furrowed at the young nurse who walked through the door, “Where’s Doctor Carpenter?” 

The nurse smiled at him as she walked to the ultrasound machine, “She’s with another mother right now, but she’ll be here soon.” Y/N nodded and laid back down on the exam table, “My name is Margaret, and I’ll be doing the initial look, taking a few pictures and then Doctor Carpenter will be in.” 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded, feeling the grip of nerves in her throat. Jake could feel the anxiety rolling off his wife in waves and squeezed his wife’s hand. Y/N looked over at him, as Jake raised their conjoined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“How have you been feeling, Mrs. Seresin?” Margaret asked. 

“Oh please, call me Y/N,” Y/N said softly, “I’ve been feeling more tired than usual with this one. It’s our third baby,” Jake gave her hand a squeeze, “But lately, my back has been hurting, I’ve had these weird dizzy spells, just overall felt like crap.” 

Margaret nodded as she put some of the cool gel on Y/N’s belly. Y/N let out a shaky breath as Margaret pressed the transducer to Y/N’s lower belly. She always hated this part of the exam, feeling like her bladder was going to explode from the pressure. 

Jake sucked in a breath as he watched Y/N stare up at the ceiling. She was uncomfortable and Jake hated that. “Did you hear about Dragon’s wedding present for Rooster?” Y/N looked at her husband and shook her head, “Well apparently, it was a fancy little picture book. Rooster was actually speechless, and you know that man is nev-” 

“How far along are you?” Margaret asked, interrupting Jake. He looked up at her, noticing the pinched look on her face. 

“12 weeks,” Y/N nodded, “But isn’t that on my chart?” 

Margaret nodded and plastered a fake smile on her face, “Y-yeah, yes, it’s just that-” 

Jake’s shoulders squared as he stood up from his seat, “That what? What’s wrong?” 

Margaret set the transducer down and turned to face both of them, “I’m not seeing anything on the ultrasound.” 

“What?” Y/N looked from the nurse to Jake and back at the nurse. She felt her heart start to race as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “There’s. . .there’s no baby? I lost the-” 

“I don’t know,” Margaret said, “I-I’m not really authorized to read-” 

“How about you go find someone who is?” Jake said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. Margaret nodded rapidly and scurried out of the room with her head down. Jake scoffed and ran his hand through his hair, his jaw clenched shut, “What a fucking joke. Can you-” He looked down at his wife to find tears running down her cheeks, “Hey, sweets, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s no baby,” Y/N cried, and Jake wrapped her in his strong embrace. 

“We don’t know that,” Jake said, his voice strong and steady, “The nurse even said she’s not authorized to read it.” He pulled Y/N away from his chest and held her face in his hands. She looked up into his green eyes, “You hear me? We can’t jump to conclusions yet.” Y/N closed her eyes and nodded her head, not really believing a word Jake said. And to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he believed what he said either. 

Jake gently shifted Y/N’s body so he could sit on the edge of the small exam table and hold his wife. They waited in painful silence for the doctor to come in. The only sound was the occasional sniffle from Y/N, which was followed by Jake pressing his lips to the top of her head. A small knock pulled them out of their quiet embrace as their usual doctor walked into the room. Jake felt some relief in his body, but the look on the doctor’s face didn’t help ease much of it. 

“I’m sorry for the wait,” Doctor Carpenter said, giving them both a sad smile, “Let’s see what’s going on.” She quickly went to the ultrasound machine. Jake moved off the exam table and stood by her side, holding her hand in both of his. 

Doctor Carpenter did the same thing as the nurse had done previously, putting the cold gel on Y/N’s belly and spreading it around her lower abdomen. Y/N looked up at the ceiling as Jake’s eyes were on the black-and-white screen in front of him. Doctor Carpenter worked in silence as she moved the transducer around, freezing on a spot, and taking a picture, before moving to another spot. The silence stretched for about ten minutes before Doctor Carpenter sighed, and placed the transducer down.  

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt Doctor Carpenter’s eyes on her. She couldn’t hear the words that came out of the doctor’s mouth but felt Jake squeeze her hand. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N and Jake, but there isn’t a viable fetus present,” Doctor Carpenter said, “I’m afraid Y/N has had what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. It doesn’t present like a normal. . .” 

It was all a blur after that. 

She could hear the door to the exam room shut. She could feel Jake move to lean over her and run a hand through her hair. She could faintly make out the sound of his voice as he spoke to her. She could feel him hold her in his arms, rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She could hear him sniffle and wipe away the tears from under his eyes. 

The car ride home was quiet, as Y/N leaned her head against the window, looking at the familiar landscape pass her by. Jake would occasionally glance over at her, noticing the hand that sat protectively on her belly. He shifted in his seat and looked at his wife again. 

Jake cleared his throat, “Are you in pain?” 

“Not physically,” Y/N answered, “It’s just. . . when you think about a miscarriage or losing a baby, you imagine blood and pain, not. . .” Y/N fought back tears, her mind trying to come up with the right words to say. Jake reached his hand across the center console and grabbed hers. Neither of them said another word as they drove the rest of the way home. 

When they arrived home, Jake noticed Amelia Benjamin’s bike by the front door. She usually babysat the kids after school while Jake & Y/N were at work. It was supposed to be a happy night, while Jake and Y/N shared pictures of their unborn child, and listen as Alex and Ella argued about whether it was going to be a boy or a girl. Now, all Y/N felt was dread of having to face her children and her parents. 

“Why don’t you go into the house from the garage and up the back steps,” Jake said, looking at his wife, “And I’ll go corral the kids to the backyard.” Y/N nodded her head in agreement, “I’ll be up soon and draw you a bath-” 

“I just want to lay in bed,” Y/N said, looking at Jake, “I’m okay. . . or I will be anyway.” 

Jake gave her a smile. Y/N was one of the toughest women he knew. She had to be tough when being married to an aviator. Nothing in Jake’s life was ever promised and Y/N had known that first hand. She had watched as partners of fellow aviators had been given folded flags instead of getting to hug their loved ones again. She always feared losing Jake, never one of her own babies. 

“I’m going to go in now,” Y/N said and Jake nodded. 

“Y/N,” Jake called her name as he stepped out of the truck. She looked up at him, “I love you, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Y/N smiled, “I love you too, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Jake took a moment, trying to gather his thoughts as he watched Y/N walk into the house. He turned the truck off and gathered his duffle bag from the back seat, before making his way to the backyard where he could hear the loud laughter of his kids. 

The second that Jake opened the gate to the backyard, Alex and Ella ran right to him. He greeted them with his usual bright smile and kiss on the cheek. He thanked Amelia for watching them and paid her. Then he stood on the front porch with Alex and Ella as Amelia rode her bike the two blocks it took to get to her house. 

“C’mon, let’s go get a snack,” Jake said, leading his kids inside the house. Alex climbed up on the stool at the kitchen island, while Jake sat Ella down on hers. He cut them up an apple, splitting it between the two of them, and giving them each a big dollop of peanut butter to go with. 

“Where’s Mommy?” Alex asked, looking around the kitchen for the usual bright ball of sunshine that was Y/N Seresin. 

“She’s uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “She’s not feeling well. She’s laying down right now.” 

“What wrong wit Mommy?” Ella asked, looking up at Jake with those big green eyes. Jake knew that at some point in time, they needed to talk to the kids about what happened, but he was hoping that he would have some time to gather his thoughts before telling them. If it was up to Jake, he would wait to talk to them, but he also knew that Y/N hated keeping things from them. 

“Your mommy,” Jake shook his head, “We found out today that. . . we lost the baby.” The room was silent for a moment as the five and two-and-a-half-year-old were trying to come to terms with what their father just said. How does one even explain the circle of life to kids? 

“How?” Ella asked. 

“I’m not really sure, Elles,” Jake said, running his hand over her blonde hair, “Sometimes, it just happens. There’s no explanation. There’s no reason. Sometimes, God decides he needs the baby a bit more than we do.” 

Alex blinked a couple of times, staring at the bottom wrung of the chair that Steve had chewed up, “Is that Baby with Uncle Bradley’s mom and dad?” 

Jake nodded, “Yeah. The baby is with Uncle Bradley’s mom and Dad, and Grandpa Seresin, and the dog your mommy had as a child, and Aunt Dragon’s babies.” 

“I don’t wike that,” Ella pouted, as the tears slowly started to roll down her cheeks. Jake cooed and walked over to her, picking her up in his arms, and holding her head against his chest as she cried. 

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Jake sniffled, “No one does. It’s hard to lose the people you love,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “All we can do now, is show mama some love, give her some extra cuddles. She’s going to be sad for a while.” 

“I wanna go to Mommy,” Ella mumbled and Jake nodded. He carried Ella in his arms and walked up the stairs toward their shared room. Alex stayed in his spot, still staring at that beat-up wrung of the stool. 

Jake knocked softly on the bedroom door, waiting for the invite from Y/N to let him in. He knew not to overcrowd her and make her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes Y/N reminded him of a scared, feral dog that had been kicked one too many times. But her quiet, soft voice granted him permission to come in, and Jake gently pushed the door open. 

Y/N was facing the door and looked up to see her baby girl with tears rolling down her cheeks. Y/N gave Jake a sad smile and shifted a bit in bed to make room for Ella. Silently, Jake stepped across the threshold and brought Ella to Y/N. 

“My baby girl, what are the tears for?” Y/N asked Ella, as Jake pulled back the covers and gently placed her next to her mom. 

“I don’t want you to be sad,” Ella mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “I’ll only be sad for a little while, I promise.” She pulled Ella in close to her chest and rubbed her back. Ella was like Jake in so many ways, that the small gesture was a sure way to make them both fall asleep. 

Jake smiled at his girls before returning downstairs to make Y/N some tea. Alex was still in the same spot as he was when Jake went upstairs. He eyed his child as he filled and set the kettle on the stove. Jake always felt like he had a hard time connecting with Alex. Y/N was already four months pregnant with him when Jake came home from a mission. And Jake had to leave when he was only three months old for another mission. Alex was also the complete opposite of his father and Jake struggled to find things they had in common. 

“What’re you thinking about, Lex?” Jake asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Do you know where I can get white roses?” Alex said, looking up at his dad. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “Uncle Rooster always gets Aunt Dragon white roses on Ida’s birthday. He says they are for membrance.” 

“Remembrance,” Jake said, “And I think I know a place where we can get some.” 

— — — 

Three days later, Jake and Alex were in the middle of Y/N’s garden, while she sat in a chair with Ella. Doctor Carpenter told her to take the next couple of days easy while her body and mind processed the news of the miscarriage. The kids had been a great help, keeping Y/N’s mind off the loss and giving her the extra cuddles that she didn’t know she needed. 

“White Roses love the sun,” Y/N said, as Alex finished digging the whole, “You picked a perfect spot, Alex.” 

The little boy wiped the sweat from his brow as Jake brought over the poted plant, “Thanks, momma.” 

“Alright Ella, you want to come help with this?” Jake asked, and the little girl happily obliged. She wiggled out of her moms lap and walked over to where the two boys were standing. 

Jake gently pulled the rose bush from the bucket it sat in, remembering all the critiques Y/N gave him while he helped her plant to other flowers in the garden. Ella and Alex cupped the bottom of the plant as they gently eased it into the hole. Y/N stood up from her chair and walked over to her family, watching as the kids covered the base of the rose bush with fresh soil. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as Jake put his arm around her, pulling her flush against his side. 

“There!” Alex said, clapping the dirt off of his hands, “Do you like it?!” 

“We love it, baby,” Jake smiled, “Now come here! Family hug!” Y/N giggled as the kids ran right towards their legs, hugging them tightly, “I love you guys, with all my heart, and all my being.”

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignharper @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @toobouquet @malindacath @justenoughmadness @sagittarius-flowerchild

taglist form

[waitineedaname]

the svsss fandom is already off to a good start when it comes to ridiculous ship names, but I think we should get sillier. the main wives situation in pidw, call that bingminglingying. peak lord polycule called qingqingqingqingqingqingqing. and so on

[this-is-what-makes-us-girls-22]

[spritofmary]

“You still want to run away with me?” “More than anything. Belle, when I wake up in the mornings, all I can think of is you. I close my eyes at night, and there you are. Belle, I cannot fashion a life without you in it.”

[keepontruckinlucky]

This series is always beautifully written, but this chapter... DARLING.

My emotions are in a tangled ball in my chest right now. Gallus and Sabina (as well as Carnifex and Phoenix) have my heart.

FUCK ATTICUS AND AURELIA

Si Vis Amari Ama

VII. A Banquet to Remember

SERIES MASTERLIST

JOIN THE TAGLIST!

Pairings: Rooster (Roman Name: Gallus) x Female Reader (Roman Name: Sabina), featuring Hangman (Roman Name: Carnifex) x Phoenix

Summary: A girl whose freedom was stolen to pay her father’s debts. A gladiator enslaved for the entertainment of Rome. A love they never thought possible.

Author’s Note: This one is another beast of a chapter, but I hope you all enjoy it!

Word Count: 15.2k

Warnings: Slavery in the ancient world, physical abuse, brief allusions to prostitution, unwanted sexual advances, violence, language, slow burn romance, alternating point of view.

Keep reading

[thewomanwhoreads]

Library finds x

[pstelwitchcraft]

I'm still so, so fascinated by Laudna. Like, how deep does the denial go? When Imogen asks her "you're not lying to me again, are you?" And she takes over a minute to answer pretty defensively that No, she's not, is she unsure because she knows she's lying? Is she unsure because she knows that she's definitely feeding delilah and that the stronger she gets, the least control Laudna has? Is she unsure because she knows delilah was gone for good, completely, and Laudna allowing her to come back is what flooded the gates again? Does Laudna herself understand that she's lying to Imogen and how? Marisha has straight up not given any definitive answers whenever she's asked about their relationship and I am just so curious.

When she says "No. I'm not feeding her, she's feeding me too. It's symbiotic", is she lying through her teeth because she thinks that will make Imogen worry less or does she genuinely believe that? I cannot understand if she truly believes she needs Delilah, if she knows, deep down, that she doesn't and Delilah is actually feeding off of her but there's a dependent relationship there that she can't let go or if this is all some sort of self depreciative sabotage where she knows that she's likely going to lose herself to this but she believes it to be worth it if it helps her friends in any way.

It's probably a mix of all three but I genuinely cannot stop thinking about it.

[lifeimitatesart1998]

What books do you wish you could read again for the first time? 📚

[keepontruckinlucky]

Did I cry through the entire chapter? Yes. Katie, I loved every single second of it. I really hope that Mav and Bradley make up for the sake of baby Seresin and Tommy.

My Future in You | 2.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, extreme inaccuracies on hospitals and the entire birthing process but this is fiction so we move. WC: 4.7k

…

Bradley spins the padlock, humming as he does, twisting the lock and pulling open his locker. That run was awful, his instructor has been breathing down his back and Bradley had fucked up two consecutive manoeuvres. He’s sweaty, and tired.

It’s nice out, though, and you’ve been so couped up recently that it’s driving you crazy. If he’s done early enough he could take you out. It’s the middle of summer, there are tons of properties not far that host drive-ins.

You’d probably like that.

He reaches for his bag first. Towel, clothes, soap — the necessities. Under that, is his phone, which he picks up absentmindedly, without checking. Immediately, it starts to buzz in his hand. He turns it over as he walks towards the showers, seeing an unknown number flash up on the screen.

Instinct tells him to answer. He taps the button and cautiously brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“There you are, you son of a bitch!”

Bradley blinks, frowning slightly. His stomach drops.

“Jake?”

“No, no! Don’t you dare fucking speak, where the hell are you?” Jake rants on the other end of the line. Bradley’s brows furrow as he plugs a finger into his ear to try to hear. He knows for a fact that Jake gets one call a week, and he hasn’t ever wasted that call on speaking to Bradley.

“What? — I’m at work, what’s going on?” About fifteen other pilots just piled into this room behind him, it’s hard to hear, even with the way your brother is screaming.

“My baby sister’s about to have your kid in your dumbass uncle’s car is what’s going on! — I’m so serious about this, Bradley, if you fucking let her down today, I will kill you — I promise you that I will actually—“

“Uncle? Jake, slow down, I’m grabbing my keys. Where the fuck is she?” Bradley turns on his heel and shoves his way back through the steam-filled locker room, pressing the phone closer to try to hear. It has been hours since he was able to check his phone and the thought makes his throat tight. He can’t think of how many times you would have tried to reach him, how scared you must be.

It’s the entire reason you’re here, away from everything you have ever known; so that he could be there for you. And he isn’t. He might have missed it. He could have let you down all over again.

“She’s on her way to Sacred Heart Hospital! Do you know how many fucking times she tried to call you?” Before Jake even gets to finish his second sentence, Bradley has started running, hoping that he doesn’t turn a corner and knock hot coffee into someone important.

Jake continues to rant on the other end of the line but Bradley’s far from even listening. All he can think of now is when he woke up the night after halloween and saw you laying in his bed, wrapped in his jersey. You had looked so comfortable that he hadn’t wanted to wake you.

On his run that morning, he had thought about it. If he had woken you. Asked you for your number, asked you on a date. He had thought about the way you had joked the night before and the instant connection. But then he came home and realized who you were. It was all downhill from there with the way he had treated you.

He should have just woken you that morning, asked you if you would go to dinner with him. There are so many things he would do differently now. He swallows as he climbs into the driver’s side of his truck and wraps a hand around the wheel just to notice how much he’s trembling now.

“Are you fucking listening to me?”

Bradley swallows, fumbling to get the key into the ignition and balance his phone between his ear and his cheek. “Look, Jake… I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you when I can.”

Jake starts to protest, but Bradley hangs up anyway. His heartbeat thuds in his ears as he backs out of the parking spot. August third. It hasn’t ever been important before, it will be every day for the rest of his life. It’s his son’s birthday.

Maverick winces at your bedside. He has been told by nurses six times now to just sit, that it could be a while before a doctor can see you. But, he won’t. He has been standing to the right side of your bed for over an hour now. He has been acting on autopilot, he barely even knows how he got you here. It’s the one thing that has kept him alive in his career so far, probably. Instinct.

He watches as you double forwards, gritting your teeth, whimpering in pain.

Bradley doesn’t have anybody, Maverick never had anybody. You’ve got two parents out there somewhere who are willing to let you go through this alone. He swallows softly at the thought and lifts his hand, brushing it tenderly over your head as he leans closer.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be just fine.” He says quietly. Your hand darts out and your fingers link between his, squeezing hard at his shaking hand. As much as he’s certain that your grip is going to bruise, he just exhales slowly and smooths his thumb over the back of your hand.

He didn’t even know your name this morning.

“Alright, Miss Seresin,” The snap of a surgical glove alerts the both of you, looking up quickly to see the smiling woman in the colourful scrubs entering the room. “My name is Lucy, I’m just here to do a quick check on how things are progressing. How does that sound?”

Still gritting your teeth, you’re too busy holding your breath and waiting for the pain to subside to answer her. Maverick makes a pained sound at your side, exhaling deeply as you finally let go of his hand.

“Mhm.” You manage out.

Lucy offers you a sympathetic smile as she pulls up a stool at the end of the bed. Maverick turns his attention towards the ceiling as she settles between your legs. You make a soft sound, closing your eyes. You wish that your mom was here holding your hand, rather than Bradley’s last standing family member.

“Okay, you’re still at six centimeters,” Lucy hums. You drop your head back against the pillow and groan in frustration. You’ve been at six centimeters for an hour and a half. Maverick squeezes your hand softly as Lucy grabs your chart from the end of the bed. “How would you rate your pain at the moment?”

“I don’t know. Does it get worse than this?” Your voice trembles as you speak. After sobbing hysterically into both Bradley’s voicemail and to Jake’s commander, begging him to put Jake on the phone, you’ve been doing your best not to cry again. It seems to make Maverick uncomfortable.

“Can you give her anything? — An epidural, or whatever?” Maverick presses.

Lucy presses her lips into a line as she pushes herself to her feet and sets the chart back into its place. She gives a small shake of her head. If she knew anything about Pete Mitchell, she would know that ‘no’ isn’t a word he often agrees with.

“Why not?” He urges, brows knitting together as he drops your hand and straightens up. You glance between him and her.

She sighs softly. “With pregnancies that have complications, we tend to advise against epidural. It could put more strain on his heart, we would have to monitor very closely.”

“So monitor it closely. If you’re so worried, why has she been sitting here for an hour on her own?” Maverick challenges her. Lucy looks towards you and wrings her hands together.

“Pete, stop.” You breathe out.

“I can get the doctor to discuss it with you. It’s still an option at this point, but—“

“I don’t want it.” Your answer is instant. It’s the most confident you’ve sounded all day. Maverick’s head whips around and for the first time, you catch sight of Bradley in his eyes. It’s not a genetic thing, just more of a temperament. All of those hours spent together, Bradley’s quizzical, developing mind. He’s been copying those mannerisms subconsciously since he was in the first grade.

“But—“

“I don’t want it. We’ll be just fine without it.” You decide calmly, smoothing your palms over your swollen stomach for one of the last times. Pete opens his mouth at your side, he almost argues with you, but he stops himself. This isn’t his kid, or even his family — Bradley has made that clear. So, pressing his lips together, he just nods.

Bradley can feel all of the eyes on him. Maybe it’s because he’s in uniform, maybe it’s because he is walking so fast that when he collided with a doctor two minutes ago, he knocked the poor guy straight on his ass and just kept walking. His eyes widen as he spots the reception desk finally.

“Seresin. My, uh — my girlfriend is having a baby. Her last name is Seresin, she should be here.” Bradley breathes out. The nurse looks up at him and smiles. She sees a lot of stressed out, first time dads. This isn’t unusual.

“Alright. What’s your name, honey?” She smiles.

“Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I’ll tell her you’re here, I’ll come get you as soon as she says it’s okay. Why don’t you get some water, just take a breath?” She reaches out and pats the hand that he has resting on top of the counter. Bradley swallows, managing to give her a stiff nod.

She’s gone for less than two minutes, but Bradley’s pounding heart just makes it feel like it’s an eternity. She can see it on his face when she walks back towards him that he’s terrified. So, she just offers him a smile and nods for him to follow her.

At first, Bradley doesn’t even notice that there’s anyone else in the room. All he sees is you, sitting up in the bed, your hair pulled back and tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He rushes towards you. You whimper as he wraps you in his arms, grabbing onto him tightly. He leans down and kisses the top of your head. “Jake got through to me, I got here as soon as I could.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t make it in time.” You whisper into his chest. Bradley turns his head and kisses your temple, nodding. He opens his mouth to agree, and then takes notice of who is standing at the other side of your bed. His uncle. He hadn’t taken much notice of what Jake had said on the phone.

He stands up straight and stares, silent for a second. Maverick has learned by now to just keep his mouth shut.

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from my family.”

“Bradley, don’t. He got me here, he stayed with me.” You frown up at him. Bradley just stares over you, looking at the man who has let him down again and again for as long as they have known each other.

Maverick takes a slow step back, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll go. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

“No, Mav—“

“I don’t want him here. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near—“

“I want him here.” You answer back, scowling up at your boyfriend. Of all the stupid arguments that the two of you have had, Bradley knows better than to pick a fight with someone who is in active labour.

Even so, Maverick has spent more than two decades going against Bradley’s wishes. Making him eat his vegetables, refusing to let him drop out of little league, almost ruining his career. He needs to give his nephew some leeway here, if this is going to work.

“I could go to your place. Get you some things, give you two a minute. I’ll come back, sit in the waiting room. If you want me, I’ll be right outside.”

“No.” Bradley deadpans. You shoot him a look, then turn to offer Pete a small smile.

“Can I text you a list? I have it all written on my phone.”

Maverick nods. He still has your keys from earlier, and honestly, he’s grateful to be out from Bradley’s glare once he leaves the room. You’re grateful that you aren’t going to have the two of them fighting while you’re trying to do this.

Bradley’s scowl fades once he’s certain that Maverick is far enough away. He turns around and perches on the side of your bed, draping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“How are you feeling? — Did they give you anything for the pain, yet?” He asks softly, smoothing his free hand tenderly over your stomach. You scrunch your nose slightly and turn to frown at him.

“No — Bradley, you smell disgusting.”

He stares back at you, blinking slowly. “Honey, I ran a red light to get here. Showering wasn’t my top priority.”

“No, I know, but — could you maybe put your arm down?”

His mouth twitches, giving an amused shake of his head as he unwraps his arm from around you. He entwines his fingers with yours instead, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “What do you mean they haven’t given you anything? — Do you want me to talk to someone?”

“No, no. I can’t have an epidural, it would put him at risk. I’m going to do it without.” You’re quiet as you explain it, just waiting for Bradley to freak out like Maverick had wanted to. He’s quiet for a minute. You brace yourself.

He strokes his thumb softly along the fabric of the hospital gown. It takes him a minute to finally lift his head and look you in the eye. He exhales slowly.

“You’re sure?”

“You couldn’t change my mind if you tr— ah.” You wince, sitting bolt upright and holding your breath. Bradley barely even notices you squeezing his hand. He feels sick, watching the way your entire body goes rigid with the pain. He has read that this can take like eight hours the first time, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to sit through eight hours of watching you suffer like this.

That being said, there’s nothing he can do but be here. An hour later, he’s already on the verge of tearing his hair out as silent tears roll down your cheeks while you sip on water. He has suggested the epidural twice more since your first conversation, you’ve refused it twice.

The contractions are more regular now. You’re trying to keep him calm, knowing that he’s freaking out even more than you are, but they’re close enough together now that you haven’t spoken in a while. You knew this was going to hurt, but the last ten minutes have been agony.

“Okay, Miss Seresin, just here for another quick check.” Lucy strolls back into the room smiling again, shooting a quick look to the new man standing at your bedside. Bradley glances between you and her, fighting to ask her where the hell she has been. She sits between your legs once more. You sigh in discomfort. The thing about not having an epidural — you can feel everything. “Oh.”

Bradley looks at her. “Oh?”

“She, uh — We’re just about there. That was fast, you’re sure this is your first?” Her smile has faded for the first time. You stare at her face. She looks scared. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“She’d notice if it wasn’t, wouldn’t she?” Bradley bites. You swing your arm out and smack him in the stomach. Lucy stands up quickly.

“I’m going to grab the doctor.”

You’re quiet as she hurries off, turning your head and looking up at Bradley. He watches your lip tremble and reaches out instinctively, stroking gently at your cheek. He wipes a salty tear from your skin.

“She looked worried.” You whisper to him.

He leans down, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your mouth as he squeezes your hand. “You’ve got this. You’re going to be just fine. This whole time, you’ve been so strong. Just a little longer.”

Squeezing his hand, you lean closer and rest your face against his arm.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, to either one of you.” Bradley kisses the top of your head, his eyes sting. He closes them and inhales the familiar scent of your hair. There’s no way in hell he’s going to cry in front of you. “Just a little longer and he’s going to be here, this is all going to be worth it.”

He doesn’t know that for sure, there’s no way that he can, but it’s enough for you to believe it. Besides, there isn’t a lot of time to be caught up in the fear. Once pushing starts, there’s only one thing on your mind and that’s getting this over and done with.

Bradley isn’t sure what he was expecting labour to be like, but he wasn’t expecting so many people. There are six people in this room and Bradley isn’t sure exactly what any of them are here for specifically. His main focus is you.

Each time you push, your body goes tense, you grit your teeth and you hold your breath. He’s sure that you’re going to pass out any minute now.

“Okay, another big one. You’re doing great.” The doctor instructs. Bradley shoots him a furious look. A nurse at your side is quick to rub your shoulder and tell you to breathe. He leans in close and kisses the top of your head. Once again, you grit your teeth and push hard. Bradley feels like he can’t breathe himself.

This time, you don’t hold your breath. Instead, it’s all forced out of your lungs at once as you scream out, digging your nails into Bradley’s palm, hot tears spilling onto your cheeks. The second that you’re done screaming, there’s no getting your breath back. You inhale too fast and sob back out an exhale. Again and again as the nurse at your side tells you to slow down.

“Alright, and again.” The doctor sighs.

Your eyes flicker to him, and Bradley snaps. He can’t stand the pain in your expression, and he can’t stand that doctor’s fucking tone. “Again? — She needs a break. She can’t go again.”

The abundantly calm older lady between your legs simply lifts her head and looks up at him through her glasses. She has been delivering babies longer than either one of you has been alive. “Son, there’s no time for a break right now. This baby’s coming. Rather than yelling at me, focus on her.”

Bradley’s jaw ticks as he settles in closer and brings your knuckles up to rest against his lips. He winces, blinking back tears as you have to go through another tough push. Your head falls back against the pillows in a moment of brief respite.

He studies your face for a second. Up until this exact moment in time, as he’s wiping tears from your cheeks with his free hand, Bradley had seen the two of you maybe having another kid. Right now, he’s certain that he’ll never put you through any of this again.

“You must hate me right now.” He whispers, giving a soft shake of his head. Honestly, he doesn’t really expect you to answer. He barely expects you to hear him. He definitely doesn’t expect you to laugh.

Your face is hot, and blotchy with tears. Your entire body is exhausted and trembling, and you’re laughing at him. Sniffling, you blink through the tears, “I’ve hated you more than I do right now, it’s okay.”

He can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair back off of your face, then leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ve been thinking a lot, about the future, and about our family—“

“Don’t you dare fucking propose to me right now, Bradley. Don’t.” You growl. The nurse at your side just can’t hold it in. Bradley frowns at her as she giggles and rubs soothingly at your back. He kisses your knuckles and closes his mouth.

You’re right. He’ll finish that speech another time.

“Here’s his head.”

Bradley looks swiftly away and stares at the ceiling. The death-grip that you’ve got on his hand is the least of his worries. The thought alone is enough to make him dizzy. Jake’s going to kill him if he passes out. He inhales slowly through his nose and leans in again, resting his forehead against your temple as you cry out.

“There we go, that’s perfect. Keep going, he’s almost here.” The doctor’s tone never lifts above a breezy cadence. She’s beyond cool, finally glancing up to offer you a small smile.

He sticks to your side, kissing your temple. Your chest heaves. There’s not long to go, you’re almost done. But, the end is the worst. It really does feel like you’re going to black out. You don’t know how people have been doing this for so long, or why some of them choose to have so many kids after this pain.

You half expect to give up, to break down crying and begging for your mother before it’s all done. You’re right on the verge, whimpering into the sleeve of Bradley’s flight suit. And then, it’s over. The doctor exhales deeply and hums.

He takes his first big inhale and promptly wails into the air.

The doctor has him in her hands when she looks up and catches sight of the two of you before her. You’re clinging onto his hand and he’s pressing as close to you as he can without crawling into the bed. There’s a fearful, awestruck look plastered across both of your faces as you stare in the direction of the scream.

She smiles at the two of you. You’re going to be just fine.

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor asks Bradley calmly. He regrets yelling at her now, but she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

Bradley blinks, then shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hurt him.

She chuckles, then shakes her head. “You won’t.”

He does as instructed, rolling his sleeves up, and quickly cleaning his hands and arms. He’s the first one that gets a look. As he sets the scissors back down, he turns his head towards you with a look on his face that you haven’t seen before.

Blinking back tears, Bradley smiles softly at you. And then he’s all yours. They set the baby down on your chest, starting to clean and dry him off right away. Bradley moves to your side once again, brushing your hair back off of your forehead.

Still wailing, you whimper quietly as you stare down at the infant. Ten fingers, ten toes, a good set of lungs on him. Bradley’s lips press softly to your forehead as you reach out, hands trembling, and trail your fingers featherlight along the length of his spine.

His plush, pink lips tremble as the wailing starts to subside. Bradley strokes tenderly at the nape of your neck with his thumb, rendered silent as he watches you with him.

“Hi,” You breathe out, hugging the towel closer to him. You inhale deeply, then exhale through your nose. A nurse smiles as she reaches around you to place the soft knit hat on top of his head. He’s warm enough now, you want to keep it that way. “Hi, baby boy.”

Bradley swallows the lump in his throat. Four and a half hours of labour without any tears. Twelve seconds of watching you with your baby and hot tears are stinging his eyes.

You get five minutes with him before they have to check his vitals, his weight, his height. As much as your arms feel empty without him there, you want those results. You want him to be fine. You want to see him in that bassinet beside your bed tomorrow night.

Blinking, you look up at Bradley. He scoffs as your mouth falls open.

“Allergies.” He mumbles, crouching down to kiss your mouth as tears dampen his cheeks. You reach up and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, turning your face into his neck. You feel him relax into your touch. He kisses your shoulder, sniffling.

Both of you let it be quiet for a moment. You won’t be getting a lot of that once you’re at home, not with that boy’s vocal chords.

“Thank you,” Bradley mumbles into the crook of your neck. He pulls back from the hug just slightly, brushing the backs of his fingers along your cheek. He sighs, then nods seriously. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t ask me to do it again.” You joke, watching his tearful face shift into a grin. He sits forwards and kisses you. You close your eyes as he trails his fingertips along your arms.

“I’m serious,” He tells you softly, watching you blink tiredly. “I’d have nothing if it wasn’t for you. I was bitter and mean, and you were way too nice to me. It’s because of you that we have him. I’m so, so grateful.”

Your lips quirk up into a soft smile. If Jake could hear some of this, he would probably start to like Bradley again.

Exhaustion starts to set in, but there’s no time to sleep when there are doctors and nurses fussing over you, and then he’s being bundled back into you again.

Your eyelids are heavy as you turn your head and look over at Bradley, sitting in the chair beside your bed. His flight suit is tied around his waist and his t-shirt is draped over the back of the chair. Your baby looks tiny nestled into his arms.

You fight to keep awake as your always calm doctor walks into the room once again and sits down between the two of you.

“Seventeen inches, four pounds and ten ounces. Congratulations.” She tells the two of you with a small smile. Bradley doesn’t look up at her, smoothing his fingertips through the soft, dark hair on your son’s head. She looks at you, then at Bradley. “He’s strong. He’s doing well. We’re going to move you to the neonatal intensive care unit so that we can keep an eye on his feedings. We need to get that weight up, keep him warm. But, I’m not concerned.”

You swallow softly. “The tests and everything… he looked okay?”

She stands up and takes two small steps towards you. She rests her hand softly on your forearm, giving you a sincere nod. “Aside from his weight, he’s perfect. Does he have a name?”

Bradley finally lifts his head and looks, offering you a small smile. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and nod at her. “His name’s Thomas.”

It breaks your heart when it’s time for him to go. The thought of him being without you on that ward. Bradley holds you while you cry, and truthfully, he feels like crying too. It’s been a long day. You’re all emotional.

He stays with you until you fall asleep. Then, half-awake himself, he heads off to see your son. It’s the first night that he gets to say goodnight to the both of you.

Bradley stops as he closes the door to your room behind him. He stares at the man asleep in the waiting area, drooling on his hand as it props his chin up. He knew Mav had gotten here a while ago, someone had brought the bag in. Bradley just figured he would have gone home by now. Exhaling slowly, he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides.

“Mav?”

The older pilot startles awake, blue eyes wide and blinking quickly as he tries to figure out where he is. It takes him a moment to figure out who is in front of him. Tall, flight-suit, mustache. Maverick feels the lump in his throat grow as he realises that it isn’t his best friend.

He looks Bradley up and down. He looks older now than he did a few hours ago, not just because he’s tired. Because Maverick isn’t looking at a little boy anymore.

“There’s someone you probably want to meet, huh?”

…

tags: @chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @heli991113 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm33 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutford