Three months later, Josh went into labor in the middle of a talk with his real estate agent. He had been preparing for this moment for a month now. It could be a challenge for a pregnant man in a world of humans who were too blind to know that not everything was always as it seemed. He wore enormous shirts that helped to conceal his pregnant stomach, instead making it seem as if he was a very fat man with hilariously skinny arms and legs. Either that, or a skinny man who drank way too much.

So, when he was speaking with a nice, middle-aged man about purchasing the property they were standing in—a storefront—and a sharp spasm needled against his side, there was no sign anything was amiss. Aside from his grimace, of course.

The agent stopped in the middle of his sentence and looked at him, head tilted in an almost comical manner. “Are you alright, Mr. Silver?”

“I’m fine,” Josh said. This pain was different from any others he’d felt so far, leaving no doubt as to what was happening. He felt a little breathless, which he supposed was good for his cover. Weren’t chubby people always a little tired out? He had to hope so. “I’m really sorry, but could you excuse me for a moment? I need to make a phone call.”

Understanding crossed the agent’s face. Josh thought maybe “making a phone call” was being taken as some sort of euphemism for a bowel movement. And really, that wasn’t all that far off from what he needed to do. Excusing himself again, he turned around. Instead of heading for the bathroom, as the agent probably expected him to, he went outside and just kept walking. It pained him to think he’d probably not get the sale now, especially when the space had been so ideal—and would be perfect with a bit of remodeling—but there were more important things at hand than building a new bakery. His confirmed daughter was about to meet the world.

He carried no phone with him, since it wouldn’t have done him any good anyway, but that turned out not to be a huge problem. People avoided him on the street, but he kept plodding on with determination towards the nearest hospital. While not all hospitals were shifter-friendly, this one was and it just so happened it was where he’d been going for his doctor appointments this whole time.

Of course, nearby was a relative term. He had a lot of walking to do, and his insides were wracked with quivering spasms that felt entirely different from the practice contractions he’d been experiencing lately. It took everything he had to keep going. Desperation drove him on.

Before he’d gone more than a block, a car pulled up onto the sidewalk directly behind him. He heard it bounce as it hit the curb, and he heard the driver’s muffled swear. Despite the situation, he was curious and turned around.

And he found himself looking at the young man he’d tracked down to find Blake. The Fox kid, who worked at the movie theater.

Fox stared at him, blue eyes wide and pale. “Well, shit,” he said. “Blake said he had a mate, but he didn’t say you were knocked up.”

Passersby glanced at them, intrigued, but not enough to start making a scene. There were weirder things that happened, after all.

“Mind keeping your voice down?” Josh said. “I don’t exactly feel like telling the whole world that I’m pregnant. Actually, could you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Drive me to the nearest hospital? I’m in labor.”

Fox stared at him.

Josh clarified, thinking perhaps that the other man might not understand. “The baby is coming.”

“Christ!”

“No. It’s not a virginal birth.”

His joke went over the other wolf’s head. Fox looked around desperately, clearly lost, then he held up his hands and shrugged. “Sure, sure. Come on. Let’s get you to the doctor. Does Blake know you’re here?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t know about this. I don’t have a phone.” Josh approached the passenger side door, which Fox was respectfully holding open for him. Then, he hesitated. “Maybe you should put something down on the seat?” It was a half-hearted suggestion. He didn’t quite expect Fox to reach into the backseat and summarily produce a giant stack of newspapers.

Fox looked a little defensive. “I have a PO box. I get a lot of junk mail.”

“And you collect it?”

“Came in handy right now, didn’t it?”

Can’t argue with that.

Josh lowered himself down into the offered seat, grimacing. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to do anything. He was one gigantic ball of pain, and this was only the beginning.

Fox practically leaped into the driver’s seat. He had a wild look on his face as he pulled away from the sidewalk, making the approaching cars on the street slam on their brakes. Horns honked, not that he really seemed to notice, or care. He drove like a maniac, like there was a race to win and his life depended on it.

“Is it like, going to fall out?”

“What?” Josh was amused. He rubbed his hands over his stomach, uselessly trying to soothe away some of the pain. “No, of course not. There’s plenty of time.”

“Good. Use this.” Fox reached to the center console. His driving was somehow better when performed with only one hand, which was a phenomenon Josh didn’t quite understand. The omega opened the console and pulled out what had to be the shittiest cell phone Josh had ever seen. It was at least five years old and those had apparently been some very long, rough years. “I always keep it plugged in. Only way it works. Blake’s at home, right?”

“Yes.” He took the phone, relief banishing some of the tightness gathering in his chest. “Thank you, Fox. How would you like to be a godfather?”

The omega stared straight ahead as he drove. “A godfather? Shit, just adopt me. Free bed, free meals, and I’ll take care of my new baby sister.”

Josh snorted. He didn’t laugh because it hurt too much. His fingers shook as he turned on the ancient phone. At any other time, he might have felt nostalgia at holding this piece of equipment, looking at a screen he hadn’t seen in years, but he was a bit too busy for that at the moment.

He had to try three times to get the number right, his hands were shaking so badly. Blake picked up after about five rings. “Fox?” he said, sounding a little puzzled. “How’d you get this number?”

“It’s Josh,” Josh said. “Hi, wonderful mate of mine.”

Blake’s attitude changed instantly, from puzzled to wary. “Now I know something’s up. What is it?”

They were nearly at the hospital now. Josh could see it, and there were blue signs all over the place pointing in the direction of the building. His stomach gave another hard spasm, as if recognizing where they were. “So,” he winced, “remember how there’s a baby inside me? A very large one due to be born any day now?”

Stunned silence in response. He listened to this, having expected it, but then the silence dragged on and on and he realized Blake was no longer on the other end of the phone. There was no breathing, no stammering. “Blake?”

Very distantly, somewhere else in the house, he heard, “Holy fuck!” followed by a large amount of clattering and a string of swears.

“Bye, then,” Josh said to the empty air. He was pretty sure Blake had put the phone down and immediately run to go get ready to come to the hospital, but he couldn’t be certain. The idea he might end up having to do this on his own was downright terrifying. Maybe the baby would take its sweet time coming?

Judging from the furious contractions, he guessed not. He could feel his body rebelling against him. He could feel the baby kicking and wriggling, eager to be born.

Only a little longer, darling.

Fox pulled up to the emergency room doors. “Stay put!” he commanded, then ran inside. Josh watched him go with a little bit of a smile emerging through his pain. The kid was a bit weird but pretty okay, when it came down to it. He seemed unmated, which was a shame. Oh, well. There was always plenty of time for that.

Realizing what he’d just thought, Josh started laughing. He was the wolf who had been so desperate to change something about his life that he went out and looked in a weird magic wishing well just to force it to happen. He wasn’t one to talk about waiting or having plenty of time.

He was still laughing as a nurse hurried out through the double doors, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. Fox trailed along behind, chewing on his nails, looking like a man badly in need of a smoke.

“Does it tickle?” the nurse asked him, smiling. She reached in through the open door and helped pull him out, then settled him in the wheelchair.

“No,” he said. “Honestly, it hurts like a bitch.”

“It usually does,” she said sympathetically. Though she was practically running through the halls, wheeling him along for all she was worth, she still managed to have a very normal speaking voice. “But at least you’re having fun, aren’t you? You were laughing.”

“I was just thinking of this great joke.”

“Yes? What’s that?”

“Life.”

She didn’t seem to agree with him about how hilarious it was, but he broke out into laughter again. Only a fresh surge of pain just as they neared the maternity ward could silence him.

Before he knew it, he was being lifted up into a crisp white bed in the middle of a pink room that was just a little bit too perfect. It was easy to see they had attempted to make the surroundings comfortable, like an actual bedroom instead of a hospital room. There were fake plants in the corner, where sunlight could shine on their green glossy leaves. The walls were soft rose pink, as was the table near the window and the chairs politely pushed up under the table. However, the effect was ruined by the perfection. A person couldn’t quite feel comfortable here.

The white hospital bed and the entire wall of beeping machinery was also a bit of a hindrance to the image.

He was undressed by two shapeshifting nurses and dressed again in a flowery gown. He observed this with more amusement. “You guys must think I’m really girly.”

This observation was greeted with very polite laughter. One of the nurses, the one who was sticking electrodes and wires all over his body, explained. “They don’t really manufacture labor gowns for men.”

Oh, really? I had no idea. Thanks for that.

An IV went into his wrist. It stung, but the brief pain was a welcome change from the agony flooding through his blood. He was informed that a doctor would be along in a few minutes to see him, which was news he accepted gladly. The sooner they got on with this, the better.

After exactly two minutes, his room door opened. It was not his oddball gentleman of a doctor, a wolf who had very peculiar opinions about what it was okay to make jokes on. It wasn’t that he was offensive. That would have been easier to understand. Just, the man had a fascination with toilets. And belly buttons.

It was Blake. In this moment, he didn’t look like a down-to-earth musclehead with a grudge against the establishment. He didn’t look like a dangerous usher who would have no problem carrying your ass out of a bar if you were causing trouble. His hair was all mussed up, his face was red, and his eyes were surrounded by white. In short, he looked like a terrified new father.

“Hi,” Josh said.

Blake stared at him. His knees bowed slightly, as if they had gone weak. “My god,” he said, and rushed towards Josh. They embraced as well as they could over the rails of the hospital bed, and then kissed deeply, seeking comfort, sharing their love. “I guess this is it, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” He tried to sound bright and cheerful, but quite honestly, he was terrified. It was going to hurt. Very, very badly. And he learned that omega men weren’t allowed to have epidurals or any sort of painkillers. Because actual, official doctor-assisted pregnancies for male shapeshifters were still such a new thing, the patient needed to be entirely aware of his body to help detect if anything started going wrong.

Why, why did I read all those pregnancy horror stories? I knew what it would do to me.

Now, every twitch, every spasm, every jab of unidentifiable pain, suddenly seemed life-threatening.

“Are you ready?” he asked Blake, lacking anything else to talk about.

Blake pulled in a deep breath, chest heaving as he let it out. “I think I am.”

“Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for!” a new voice said. Josh looked to see his doctor waltzing in, cheerfully pulling on a pair of gloves.

Right on time.

And so began a waiting game. Labor wasn’t as simple as pushing out a baby and then heading home. It wasn’t something that could be started when the doctor chose to.

It was painful. It was exactly the agony he had feared. Contractions pulsed through him, tightening and stretching him alternatively. He started to sweat. He started to get angry. Everything made him angry. Everything was worth yelling at. Blake gave up trying to offer a massage after being snapped at, and his attempt at holding hands left him with sore knuckles.

Somehow, the time passed.

The doctor came in for what must have been the twentieth time. He took a cursory peek between Josh’s legs, as if not expecting to see much in the way of anything between them. As he straightened up, mouth already opened to say, “We’ll give it another ten minutes,” as he had all the other times. He suddenly bent back down and looked closer. “Well! How about that! I do believe you’re ready!”

A few minutes later, surrounded by a bunch of strangers who were all staring at his ass, Josh started to push. It felt as if there was a seven-pound rock inside him, one which resisted all movement. Each push was a new level of agony, like he was being eaten from the inside out by a feral, cannibalistic wolf. He gripped the rails on his bed, shoving against them. He screamed. He thought at one point he was laughing about the joke of life. Then, at the next moment, he was weeping silently, pushing, praying for it to end.

The world went dark.

But only for an instant.

Josh opened his eyes, startled to find that the pain was fading. The intensity was such that the moment it was gone, he could hardly remember it. And there, in the doctor’s arms, being offered to him, was his daughter.

Her eyes were black as night, and her skin was the porcelain of antique dolls, except for the blotchy red blush of anger across her scrunched cheeks. She was screaming, but the sound was lost beneath her angelic beauty. She was mostly bald except for a tiny little ringlet of damp hair that encircled her head—like a tonsure—and it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

About ten minutes later, he decided he was wrong. Seeing Blake hold her, that was the most adorable.