#difficult pregnancy

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” I remind him under my breath, trying not to crush my phone in the palm of my hand.

“Now’s not the time,” Dean warns, not taking his eyes off the road.

I chew on my words and let him get us there— to her. The hospital security are in our faces before we can make it to the elevators. I force myself to not rip their throats out. 

“Sorry, but, official business.” I flash a badge, not even sure which one it is and shove it in both guards’ faces.

“And him?” the older Alpha guard challenges, leering at Dean who is reeking of anxiety.

“I left mine in the car, tub-o, there’s an Omega in danger. Are you gonna let me go or do I have to call your boss?” Dean’s not doing any better than I am, but he’s also not trying to reel it in.

I glare at my brother over the guards’ heads. Dean rolls his eyes and waits out their unnecessary permission.

We could have just said we were next of kin. But two claims—- it’s not really heard of anymore. And they wouldn’t have let us both go. Or either of us.

I worry over the legalities of our situation as Dean punches the floor number on the elevator, forcing the doors closed.

“How long has she been here?” Dean asks like I know anything more than what I’ve told him.

I shrug. “Dunno. Bobby just texted.”

Dean stares at the screen with the increasing digits like it will speed up under the weight of Alpha fury. I try to keep the frustration out of my scent. Dean is too far panicked to pretend to be professional about anything anymore.

I’ve always hated the smell of hospitals, even though they keep the air purified and the surfaces sanitized, you can always smell death. Or loss. Fear is probably the most unrelenting, but it’s the most understandable. And I know we both leave a heavy wave of it behind on that elevator.

The nurse’s station doubles as the security checkpoint, and I can smell pregnant and lactating Omegas from all directions. Dean stops and waits as I check us in, forgoing the badge to keep them from asking more questions.

The nurse tells me, “follow me Dad, we’ll get you to your Omega.”

I nod in gratitude and pointedly don’t look at Dean as I follow her and her mauve scrubs down a corridor away from the scent of fresh pups, to another, shorter hallway blanketed in quiet vigil.

“Bobby?” Dean marches past the nurse when he spots him waiting outside her door. “What the hell happened?!”

Bobby nods at the nurse and she only pauses briefly to scent the air and leave us in peace. Then, finally, he explains. She’d been having more cramping and was feeling faint. He made her go in to check it out on Monday.

“Wait, Monday?! It’s Thursday, Bobby. Why are you telling us now?!” Dean says what I’m thinking.

“She didn’t want to worry you until we knew what was wrong,” Bobby shrugs, but I can tell he never liked the idea. He was just doing what she wanted.

“Is she awake?” I ask.

“I didn’t tell her you boys were on the way, she’s gonna be pissed that you’re pissed. So cool your jets before you burst in there, but I think having you back will at least even her out enough to get out of here.” Bobby sighs. “Or at least I hope so.”

I need more than his hunches. “What are the doctor’s saying?”

“Hormonal imbalance. Like the pregnancy is fighting her. Oh, by the way, there’s three pups. Which they’re also monitoring. Only like twelve-thirteen weeks along, so none of them are viable yet, but yeah.”

Bobby explains like he didn’t just completely break us both.

“Three?” Dean gapes.

Bobby cocks an eyebrow. “You wanted more?”

“I just— three?!” I am not processing this. We knew there was a chance of having multiples, especially with two Alphas, but that’s a lot—- 

“I’m going to check my messages and get some grub. I’ll check in before I head home.” 

“Of course, Bobby. Thank you.” I say before he walks away. 

Dean looks like he’s doing math in his head and I can’t really blame him. “What does he mean by viable?”

Oh.

I sigh and weigh my options. “It means they won’t survive outside of her, yet. They’re too small, underdeveloped.”

“Okay, yeah. But, by chance, with all your reading, you know how long before they could?” Dean is trying to increase her chances while not putting the pups in danger, I can tell.

“With multiples there’s a much higher chance of premature birth. But if we want to keep them, they need her as long as possible. Another twenty weeks would do it, but the ideal? As long as possible.”

“Cuz forty is full term.”

Impressed, I nod. “Yeah.”

“Do you think I smell okay to go in yet?”

I inhale and try not to gag. “It’s hard to tell. You’ve been off to me anyway.”

Dean glares and breathes deep, closing his eyes. I feel him try to force himself to relax. Which, when does that ever work? His heart rate goes down at least.

“She’s exhausted,” Dean mutters, trying not to pace. “She missed us.”

I reach out and try to sense what he’s getting. We’re close enough, she’s probably getting a read on us too, but she hasn’t outright said anything or called us in yet. I’m not as good at it as Dean is, I’m not sure if it’s time or just something he’s better at, or maybe my own worry is clouding over my other senses. I don’t want to dwell on it right now, but he had to say something. Like he’s translating.

“Yeah,” I just agree. “Me, too.”

Because, of course I missed her. But also, I don’t want to sound surprised. He eyes me and inhales, psyching himself up. 

“You coming?” Dean nods to her closed door and I stop short of going in before him.

Her whole room smells of home and anguish.

Dean’s on now, he’s smiling softly and easing inside. I forget how much of him is bravado anyway. I close the door quietly behind us and walk to the side opposite of Dean. Naturally, we each gravitate to the side of her that bares our marks.

She hums in her sleep and her face softens as she catches our scents in her dreams. Dean can’t stop himself from touching her, just a small brushing of her hair behind her ear. It doesn’t wake her, but I know that he’s checking her temperature as he does it.

She’s okay. She’s not thriving or anything, but it feels good just to see her. I pull the blankets up and rest my hand on her stomach, feeling the belt they have tucked around her middle to monitor the babies. I try to find their heartbeats, but they’re so small and so fast, I can’t pick them apart.

It’s enough, for now.

Dean asks me a silent question and I nod, but I think he can feel my relief enough. He nods and grips the rail on the side of her bed. And we wait.

Dean

She’s been in and out of the hospital since we got back from Chicago. It seems whenever we’re separated for more than a few hours, she dips again. We’re guessing the hormone fluctuations happen when we can’t be there to regulate her.

The doctors are literally having us do their jobs for them. They are out of their depth with two Alphas fathering a single, if multiple, pregnancy. 

By her third overnight stay, I hate everything they stand for. 

We get her home and into our bed and just nest for an entire afternoon. She’s putting on weight, which is a good thing, but she’s losing muscle. Sam’s been feeding her his green smoothies— all the extra kale you could ask for. And, I’m not even complaining, because whatever helps.

My nose is buried in her hair and Sam’s her big spoon. Just laying in the not-quite-waking haze before one of us gets up to start dinner.

We don’t talk about the pups unless it’s with the doctors, because we know the more we think about them, the more attached we’ll get. Nobody wants to lose them. But it is still a very real possibility. It’s been this silent agreement— nobody wants to be the jinx.

Meanwhile, Bobby’s been deep in the lore. Most of the books that talk of the older styles of packs are more legend than anything. Maybe a few stories of weathering the elements and fighting for land. There’s very little medical knowledge to gain from all that, but he’s trying.

And then there’s the pesky red-headed beta texting me updates from Dick Roman’s central hub. Not to mention, Garth’s lanky ass helping to calm down an anxious honor-student-turned-prophet. It’s been a rough month.

I breathe her in, trying to keep my thoughts’ foot off the damn gas. She still smells like the hospital, but I know it will be gone by morning. We’ll cover her in us until she takes a shower and then start the process all over again. The healthy glow of the early days of her pregnancy has faded into almost a sheen under her skin, like something is leeching the color out of her.

I make the executive decision to order food for pick up. Nobody wants to cook or clean up at this point anyway, Sam can calm down about whatever he’s gonna say about her sodium levels. She needs food.

Besides, it gives me an excuse to go check on Bobby’s research.

Eventually Sam relents and agrees on pizza when I remind him she can’t have subs unless they’re well toasted. So there, pregnancy guru, I do pay attention. Once the food is ordered, she gets extra cuddly, knowing I’m gonna be the one leaving to get it.

I don’t hate that. 

We watch TV, just some nature show or another, me leaning back against her chest as she plays with my hair and just coats me in nesting Omega pheromones. Sam’s on his laptop next to us, half watching half scouting for anything more the Leviathans can subtly do to slowly conquer the world.

It’s when I drop Bobby’s pie off that he tells me he’s found something. And I mentally start packing before I’m even back with the rest of the food. If Bobby’s network says this guy is the real deal and there’s no trapped Reapers involved, then I’ll take what we can get. 

For her, anything. Always.

Reader

I’m staring at a ghost. Or whatever a dead angel becomes.

“Cas?”

Dean’s looking at him like he hung the moon and I can’t help but worry they’re both actually Leviathans. 

“Did you test him?”

Dean scowls at me. “He’s not possessed.”

I ignore his rudeness and look at Sam, he nods and goes inside to find some borax. 

“Y/N? I understand you’re having some difficulty?” Cas is not right. He’s not a power-tripping wannabe God, but he’s shifty. It’s weird to see him out of the trench coat.

“Okay, what is going on?” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for whatever stupid excuse Dean has for leaving us for an entire day.

“‘Mega, this is Emmanuel, he’s a faith healer.”

I swallow a few choice words and look at Dean and then back to Cas. “Emmanuel. Interesting. How’d you find him?”

“Bobby did.”

Of course he did.

“And what do you do? How do you heal people?” I step down off the porch and look into Cas’ eyes, silently daring him to lie to my face. Just one reason and I’d finally get somewhere to put all the anger that’s been ricocheting around inside my head lately.

“I emit some sort of healing energy after sensing someone’s malady. It is localized and requires little contact, if that’s what’s got you so worried.” Cas— or Emmanuel, whoever, explains cautiously, clearly aware how dangerous I can be. Or maybe that’s just from Dean and however he got him all the way out here.

“How much?” 

“I don’t ask for money. And after your mate saved mine, it’s the least I can do?”

I spin and give Dean a face.

“Yeah, found a demon about to ambush his wife trying to get at him.”

“Wife?”

“Little Beta named Daphne.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Cas-Emmanuel seems annoyed that his wife’s secondary gender is being scrutinized, not understanding what he was— or must still be if he’s healing folks.

I shake my head and feel Sam join us again. “She cute?”

Dean nods and shrugs. 

“Good for you, Manny.” I turn to Sam. “Uh, could you hold out your hand real quick? Just need to ensure you’re not something else.”

Cas-Emmanuel looks to Dean and Dean glares back, he must decide it’s best to play along. He holds out his left hand, pulling the sleeve of his fancy sweater back. Nothing happens when Sam douses his skin with the cleaner. Well, at least there’s that.

“Alright, buddy, let’s see what you got.” I drop my arms and lean into Cas’ space, closing my eyes and waiting for the cool trickle of his Grace.

“Oh, oh my,” Cas-Emmanuel says. “Well, congratulations. But I don’t think I can help this. This is a matter of unmatched claims. Your offspring need equal input from the hormonal parts of their fathers’ claims. It’s almost like they’re experiencing rejection sickness, much like your other Alpha.”

“Rejection sickness?” Sam asks, voice deep and alarmed.

I turn and look up at Sam.

“She hasn’t claimed you back and you share her with your brother whom she has claimed,” Cas says it all so simply, like we’ve been idiots not to realize it. “I assume that’s why you’re short with your brother and his scent is probably more odorous than usual.”

“Sam?” Dean asks for clarification.

Sam looks at me without seeing me, like he just found out the sky is red. “I didn’t even realize—- I thought it was just stress.”

My chest hurts. I didn’t even know he was hurting. My fault. Again, I’ve been the cause of his pain.

“So how can we fix this? Since, apparently, you can’t.” I ask a little huffy, frustrated at Cas’ blunt appraisals and lack of solutions.

He has the nerve to look squeamish. I feel my eyebrow raise and I put all of my annoyance behind it. Dean looks at the ground like he’s in trouble.

“Um, well, I believe if you make even and equal claims your hormones and the fetuses’ hormones will regulate. And your Alphas will be less prone to rejection as well, or at least I would hope.”

I inhale and nod, figure it sounds too easy, but these boys are always whining about something so we better try it anyway. For my pups, I’d do just about anything at this point. I watch Cas-Emmanuel and I hold out my hand for him to shake.

He takes it timidly, but I shake it hard, drag him to me and scent him. 

“You’re still an angel just wearing a person. I don’t know if you’re being dumb or trying to hide something or to keep someone from finding you— or us. But just know we know who you are.” I let him go and see the panic and alarm on our friend’s face.

He doesn’t understand and it makes me even more cautious to be taking his advice.

“Hey! So, how ‘bout some grub, huh? Long drive,” Dean tries to smooth it out. But I keep watching Cas like a hawk.

Sam was making shish kebabs, so I make a salad to stretch the meal for four adults, knowing Dean will ignore the rabbit food anyway. Bobby’s out for the night, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to get an ear full from me in the morning about this faith healer of his.

Cas picks at his food, but I can tell he isn’t hungry. He never was.

It’s after dinner while Dean and Sam are doing the almost nonexistent dishes, that Cas slowly comes back to us. We’re walking around the salvage yard and I’m asking questions about his life now. When eventually he realizes he knows the answers to some of his own questions about me and my Alphas.

Cas and I have never been close, but it hurts all the same to see him so lost.

“As a healer, do you know about the different kinds of Amnesia?” I ask delicately, seeing alarm bells flash behind his brilliant blue eyes. He doesn’t respond. I let it settle in his thoughts as we approach Bobby’s porch.

My temples ache and I’m already getting tired, even though the summer sun is still above the horizon. Cas reaches forward and brushes two fingertips across my brow, earning instant relief.

I exhale.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Cas says sadly.

“Don’t know what you’re apologizing to me for,” I mutter. “Or only me— I should say.”

“It was calamity on a global scale,” Cas admits.

“Still is. Fuckers aren’t gone yet,” I huff, opening the backdoor for Cas to file in front of me.

“True,” his pensive reply.

Dean

Cas made it sound so easy, so obvious. The pups were suffering because we all were still tip-toeing around this thing we started. We weren’t all in— hormonally speaking— and they weren’t getting the stability they needed. Knowing Sam had been feeling it too really was the kicker, because I hadn’t meant for it to go that far. Especially knowing how much she’s suffered over the last couple of months.

So, basically, I’ve been a world class asshole.

I do a load of laundry and try to get my head on straight as she and Cas walk around the yard, catching up. Sam keeps giving me this look like he feels guilty but curious and all I smell is relief on him. I’ve been so far into my own head I’m tuning them both out.

What happens if the Leviathans get a hold of us? If Sam or I bite it, is she a goner too?

We need to fix this. Tonight. And pray whatever happens from here on out, the surviving bonds are strong enough to withstand anything that gets thrown at us. We were so close to normal, I’m not risking it anymore. If she needs my mark— I’ll give it to her. I would give her a freakin’ kidney, I’m not seeing it as any less now.

She’s sweaty and tired when she gets back inside, but there’s something behind her eyes that I haven’t seen in weeks and it digs into my chest with claws, latching on tight. Sam gets her some water and we congregate around the kitchen table. She explains how she thinks we can do this best, and how we’ll figure out the Leviathans as soon as she’s stable. And how Cas was sticking around for a few days until we would be rolling out the Stop Dick Permanently Plan.

By the end of the week, this all could be behind us. It feels big and it sounds easier than it is, but so do most things. 

“Okay, go get comfortable— I’ll be up in like an hour and we can go from there.” I usher them upstairs. Sam gets his claim first, beating away rejection sickness had to come first or my re-claiming might have actually killed him— if not the pups.

She’s determined to get it all done at once and I don’t blame her, but I also don’t want to tempt fate. Bodies are complicated and you can’t bank on it all working so easily.

I listen as they get close, like a love song in the background. It’s not quite my style, but I can appreciate the melody. Sam’s a pretty rough guy, and I know he’s holding back because he’s scared.

We all are.

The kitchen is spotless by the time their hour’s up. Plus all the laundry is folded in the mudroom. I rub my hand over my face and march up the stairs. The smell of sex has me stiffening up and the closer I get I catch a hint of blood mixed in. She’s cradled in Sam’s lap, legs around his waist as she laps at her claim on his neck. He’s got some color back and there’s a sense of connection, of rightness mirrored in both of their minds.

Somehow, I don’t feel like I’m interrupting.

Sam nods at me as I start to get undressed, and it’s almost like he’s relieved I’m there.

“How long you been locked in?” I ask clinically, curious to see how much build up I have ahead of me.

“‘Bout ten minutes,” she murmurs, content and dreamy.

“You want me to wait or can I join you?”

She hums richly, like she’s contemplating dessert. My stomach does somersaults. “Hold me? My back is cold.”

“I can do that.”

I crawl behind her, kissing her shoulder before rubbing down her back, then up and down her arms, covering her in my touch. I nuzzle into the crook of her neck and scent her, feeling her steady pulse against my cheek.

She’s okay. They’re all going to be okay.

We sit like that for a couple of minutes, her leaning back against me while still stuck on Sam’s knot. He’s playing with her fingers, his other massive mit is protectively pressed against her rounded belly.

She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s ours.

I’m hard against her side, but I don’t care. Not right now. It’s too perfect to go rutting against her just yet.

Sam’s all pensive, but he isn’t giving off much besides Mate and Content and Pups in random hazes of thought. I wonder if he hears me yet.

I rub my nose along her shoulder, kiss where it meets her neck and smile into the crook when she shivers. She sits up and kisses Sam, holding his face between her hands like he’s precious. He growls against her lips, sighing when she starts to scratch his scalp. She whines when he starts to slip out of her, licking into his mouth to make it last.

I’ve got my hands on the notch of her waist, eying her ass crack like it’s manna from Heaven. I’m so hard and already leaking, but she’s still got Sam to take care of. I start nipping at her nape, just to distract myself more than anything.

Sam’s plotting, I can feel it.

Then she jumps because the fucker starts rubbing her clit. Well, two can play at that game, so I grab her tits and start sucking marks all over her neck and shoulders. I twist those ruddy nipples until she’s mewling, rocking hard against Sam’s half soft dick.

“I gotcha, honey, come here,” I husk out, lifting her by the armpits onto my lap and off my brother’s knot. She gushes all over my thighs, both slick and cum. Then I’m fucking up into her before Sam can even complain.

He’s still got her mouth anyhow.

She slumps against me, holding Sam’s fingers to her mound. She calls out a breathy “Alpha” and we both speed up.

God— she’s so warm, just hugging me so good.

I look down and watch her tits bounce, her baby belly hiding the pleasure Sam’s giving her. Fucking hot.

I cup those beauties, pinching the nubs between my second and third fingers, and roll my hips, hitting her right where she likes it.

“Fuck!” she groans, cumming all over all of us.

“That’s it,” I mumble. “Give us the good stuff.”

I punch my knot up against the clench of her channel, blood pulsing through every inch I can shove inside her. I’m not there yet, but the tight, wet, squeeze of her has me salivating. She writhes in my lap, unwilling to let go of either of us. She rides out her orgasm while murmuring the most delicious filth.

Sam licks his fingers clean and then starts in on her tits. She pulls his hair and puts him where she wants him. And I’m growing heavier at the mere sight of her taking what she wants.

She reaches back and cups my neck, pulling me closer  so she can tongue fuck my mouth. She adds a roll to our rhythm and I’m seeing spots. Everything goes high and tight and I’m fucking flooding her with all I’ve got.

I bite her bottom lip on the way to her throat— to the scar I left there all those months ago. She licks her own blood off my tongue before nudging me closer. I take the scar tissue between my teeth and nip— fuck my knot in higher and pull my teeth wide and sink into the unmarred flesh. Biting deep and dragging her into my throat— feeling her infuse my veins. Weaving us further together.

She sustains me.

I tongue the fresh wound as she grinds down against my knot. I feel her lower lips quiver and I’m cumming all over again. The taste and smell of her on me— inside me, stretches out my orgasm into waves of completion— drawing it out until I’m sobbing her name and she’s shushing me quiet.

Fuck— it feels so good.

I want to put three more pups in her.

I don’t know when Sam crawled away, but I’m grateful for the time to ourselves. I kiss my mark and wrap my arms around her middle— just clinging to her and this moment.

The world finally feels like it makes sense.

Tell me what you think?