"I can't believe you didn't tell me your brother was Lion Lee!" Eli whined, staring at the selfie that Van had sent from California.

On the other end of the line, Van burst out laughing.  "I did," he said.

"I didn't think you were serious."

"Why is that my fault?" Van asked, a voice in the background shouting that it was always his fault.  "Shut up, Lion."

"You should have tried harder to convince me."

"But it was so much fun to watch you try and decide whether to believe me or not."  The grin was audible in Van's voice.

"You're an ass," Eli said, picking at his workout shorts.  "Natalie's laughing her ass off at me right now."

"Hi, Natalie," Van said, irrepressibly cheerful.  "How's the prep going?"

"Good.  I turned in all my required paperwork and samples.  Getting blood taken is always a blast.  They give me a lollipop."  Eli flipped Natalie the bird when she rolled her eyes at him.  "I miss you."

"I'll be back day after tomorrow," Van said, his voice warming.  "You just focus on the fight.  It's the last one of the season, and I expect to get my money's worth."

"You didn't pay for your ticket," Eli said dryly.

"Hey, winning that ticket was hard work.  Shut up, Lion.  Hang on."  The line was muffled as Van argued with someone.

"You know," Natalie said, watching him as she set up his next station, "with all the phone calls, he might as well be here getting a decent workout."

"You told him to get the hell out of the state last week.  Besides, I'm sure his brother has a trainer for him to work out with."

"He does," Van said, the phone crackling as he shifted it around again.  "She's much nicer than Natalie."

"I'll tell her you said so," Eli said, grinning as Van backpedaled.

"Let's not trouble her with little details like that."  There was another crackle, and Van sighed.  "Alright, alright.  Mandy wants to know if we want to attend any of Lion's premieres.  He's not allowed to take an actual date after the Oscars last year, so she's trying to con family into going with him."

Pulling the phone away from his ear to stare at it in shock, Eli whooped.  "Hell yes, I want to go to a movie premiere," he said, doing a dance around the gym.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I expected," Van said, sounding resigned.  "I'll let them know."

"We don't have to if you don't want."  Eli bit his lip, trying to reign in his excitement.

"It's fine.  I have to get used to the photographers at some point, right?"

He didn't have to, Eli wanted to say, but he knew that reporters were a fact of life in his job.  "I'll make it up to you," he promised.

"I'll hold you to that.  I'd better let you get back to your workout.  Lion's packing up a ridiculous amount of crap for me to bring you.  I hope you like action flicks because he's got two coming out this year and some of the promo material is truly absurd."

"I can't wait," Eli said, swallowing down the rest of what he wanted to say.

"I'll talk to you later," Van said, his voice low and intimate.  It slid down Eli's spine like a caress.

Natalie was shaking her head at him as he hung up.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said, pointing to the next station.  "Get going."

Eli grinned.  "I did good this time."

She rolled her eyes at him.  "Yes, yes.  You did good, now get to work."

With the last, and hardest, fight of the season coming up, everything was training.  Eli had watched a dozen fights, analyzing moves and then practicing strategies to counter them.  He'd never fought this guy before, a Serbian refugee out of Germany who'd only been fighting on the international circuit for a year.  From all accounts, it was going to be a tough match.

An hour later, Eli was grateful to step on the treadmill for a ten-mile run.  The last fight of the season always meant a big push, but he and Natalie were really going all in on this one.

Falling into his rhythm, he didn't notice the phone ringing until Natalie cursed and upended her duffel bag to find it.  It wasn't uncommon for her to get phone calls in the gym, but she always hated it.  He didn't think anything of it until she started shouting into the phone in Spanish.  Turning off the treadmill, he slowed to a stop just as she pulled her arm back and flung the phone at the wall.

The pieces scattered under the weight bench, but she didn't seem to notice, slumping to the floor.

"Natalie?"  Eli hurried to her side, catching her hand as she pounded it against the tile.  "Jesus, is it your mother?"

"The fight's off," she said.

He stared at her, his brain refusing to parse the words.  "What?"

"The fight is off," she screamed, pushing away from him.  "You failed the piss test.  Talbot wants to see you."

Blood running cold, Eli shook his head.  "That's not possible.  Natalie, you know that's not possible."

"I don't know nothing."

His hands were trembling as he ran them over his hair.  "I'll go talk to Talbot, Natalie.  I'll work this out.  Just...  Just stay here."  He strode out of the room, the shaking spreading so much that it took him three tries to push the button for the elevator.

How could they believe he'd take drugs?  It would end his career if this got out.  He'd lose everything.

Talbot's door was open, his secretary waving Eli through with a pitying look.

Eli stormed up to the big desk but, once there, he couldn't think of anything to say.  His mouth was dry and he was shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering.

Dean Talbot looked up at him, concern flaring.  "Eli, are you okay?"

"It isn't true, sir," Eli blurted, biting his tongue in the process.  His mouth was suddenly flooded with saliva and he had the distinct feeling he was about to throw up.  "I didn't take anything.  I can redo the test."

"Oh, Eli."  Coming around his desk, the older man caught Eli by the arm and pressed him into a chair.  "You didn't fail the test because of drugs."  The lines around his mouth were tight and he paced a few feet away.  His hair was disarrayed in the back like he'd smoothed down the top as an afterthought.

"Then what?" Eli asked, horrified to feel tears welling up.

Talbot looked at him, sighing.  "Here, now.  Don't cry."  He grabbed a box of tissues out of a hidden cabinet, passing it to Eli.  "You know, ten years ago, I never would have expected to have this conversation.  I suppose it's a good sign of how far we've come."

Eli gripped the box hard enough to crush the edge, letting the tears drip down his chin.  "I don't understand."

"Eli," Talbot said, crouching down in front of him.  "I can't let you fight in the Championship match while you're pregnant."

Everything stopped.  Eli couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think.  "No," he whispered.

"Yes.  The doctors checked urine and blood."

"No, they said it was impossible," Eli said, his eyes scanning the familiar lines of the man who'd brought him into professional boxing.

"Improbable, not impossible," he corrected, patting Eli awkwardly on the arm.

"The doctor's exact words were 'the Virgin Mary has a better chance at conceiving than you do'."

"I remember," Talbot said.  "I also remember how disappointed you were.  This is a good thing, Eli.  You'll get to have the family you wanted so much."

"I'd be a terrible father," he protested.

"You will be a great father," Talbot said, getting to his feet.  "I want to make it absolutely clear that the organization wishes you nothing but the best, and we will support your retirement in any way that you need."

"Retirement?"  Eli jerked upright.  "Wait, who said anything about retirement?"

Talbot chuckled.  "Eli, you can't possibly imagine you'll be able to go back to boxing after you have a baby?  It'll be a year at least.  No training; no matches.  They'll have to pull your title after 18 months, and wouldn't it be better to go out on top?"

Eli stared at him, his mouth working, but no words would come out.

"You have a lot to think about, of course," Talbot said, patting Eli on the arm again.  "I'll let you consider everything.  I'm going to go talk to marketing about getting the fight called off."  He padded out of the room, the click of the door behind him sounding like a cannon in the silence.

Shaking so hard that the chair creaked, Eli stared at nothing for a long time.  Everything was over.  His career, his life, his dream.  Those kids that came to wait at the fights were never going to ask him to sign their toys again.  He was going to be known as the guy who got knocked up and lost his title.  Like all those girls in high school that everyone whispered about as they went by.  The ones who ended up working in drive-thrus and grocery stores for minimum wage, a baby on their hip.

A baby.  He was going to have a baby.  Pressing a hand against his abs, he tried to imagine it pushed out with a tiny body rolling around inside.  He couldn't do it.  He couldn't begin to fathom the idea of changing diapers or making bottles or sitting up with his crying child half the night.  Van had a lot of siblings.  Maybe he'd know how to take care of a baby.

Van.  Jesus, what would Van do?  Would he be angry?  Run screaming in the other direction?  Would he want Eli to get rid of it?  Swallowing hard, Eli pushed his hand against his stomach.  He'd be smart to leave.  Eli was going to be a terrible dad; he'd known that since the last time his dad had gone back to prison.  He'd never wanted to be that guy.

What if Van wanted custody?  He could raise it.  He had a great family, obviously, and plenty of money.  The baby would be safe from Eli making a mess of things.  Van didn't even know he was a dad.  He should know.

Raising his head, Eli blinked tears out of his eyes.  There was a phone on Talbot's desk, and he snagged on it like a lifeline.  He set the tissues down unused and stumbled to his feet.

"Hey, baby.  How was your workout?"

Eli didn't remember dialing, but Van was there, and that was what mattered.  He let the warmth of that voice flow over him, biting his fist to keep from sobbing.

"Eli?  Is everything okay?"  The background noise died down as Van's voice got louder.  "Eli?"

"I'm retiring," Eli said, his mouth refusing to form the words he needed to say.  "The fight's canceled."

"What?  What the hell happened?  Eli?  Eli, talk to me."

Setting the receiver back down gently, Eli stared at the tears scattered over the rich wood of the desk for a long time.  He was retiring.  He was going to have a baby.

The carpet burned his knees as he fell to the ground in front of the wastebasket and puked his guts up.  He was going to be a papa.

He was still kneeling there, sobs tearing their way out of his chest when Kim found him.

"Oh, Eli."  She pulled him close, wiping his mouth carefully.  "Drink this."  She pressed a bottle of sweet tea into his hands.  "Everything is going to be okay."

"Don't lie," he said, trying to stop crying long enough to drink the sugary liquid.

"I'm not lying."  She ran a hand over his hair.  "Everything is going to be okay because we are going to make it okay."

"I called Van."

She hesitated, her hand stuttering as it wiped the tears from his cheeks.  "What did he say?"

"I couldn't tell him," Eli said, fresh tears welling.  "I was a coward and just told him I'm retiring.  Why am I crying?"  Scrubbing at his cheeks with one fist, Eli tried to even out his breathing without success.

"It's the hormones," Kim said, soothing him with a hand on his back.  "You're not a coward.  This is a scary thing.  You can't just take this to the ring."

"I don't want to retire," he wailed, trying to hide his face as he started sobbing again.

Kim bit her lip, her red lipstick smearing along her teeth.  "Eli..."

"I know," he said, sucking in a hard breath.  "I know, okay?"  Closing his eyes, he straightened his shoulders and tried to pull himself together.

"They're pulling a press conference together downstairs.  They want to make the big announcement tonight."  The lines around her mouth deepened as she frowned.  "This is awfully rushed.  I'm not sure I like it."

"Why put it off?"  Eli found himself resting a hand on his belly and jerked it away.  "What am I going to do?" he asked her.  "I'm going to be a terrible father.  Look at me.  The doctors didn't even think I could get pregnant, I'm such a terrible omega.  Oh, God.  What if I miscarry?  What if I'm such an awful omega that I kill my own baby?"

"Eli, stop."  Kim grabbed his cheeks, staring at his eyes.  "You're going to be a great papa."

"What if I'm too muscular to have a baby?"  They both ignored the fresh tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Omega athletes do it all the time, Eli.  You'll be fine.  Miscarriages happen for a lot of different reasons, but none of them are your fault."  Kim pressed a kiss to his forehead, the greasy smear of her lipstick like a ward against evil.  "Everything. Will. Be. Okay."

"Promise?" he whispered.

"I promise.  Now let's get you cleaned up and discuss this press conference."

 

#

 

The logos and familiar faces of the press conference room weren't comforting today.  Eli was pretty sure he was going to throw up again before this was over.  He'd finally had to turn his phone off and give it to Natalie so that he wouldn't be tempted to call Van and beg him for help.  He wasn't even sure what he needed help with.  Help me be happy about this baby?  Help me save my career?  Help me not feel like the world is ending?

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he shuffled the cards Kim had given him.  His speech was carefully planned to paint the situation and the organization in the best possible light.  He hated every word of it.

"Eli?  We're almost ready."

Eli nodded at Kim and tried to focus on a spot on the floor just in front of the podium.  He wasn't going to be taking any questions today, and he didn't want to see any of their faces.

"Eli," Kim said.  "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No."  Eli managed a shaky smile.  "But what choice do I have?  Talbot's right.  I'll never be able to come back to this if I'm busy taking care of a baby."

"Van could–"

"I can't count on Van to stay.  This isn't what he wanted.  It's not fair to the fans or the organization to drag this out."  That was a line of the speech, he realized.  Card seventeen.

Kim nodded.  She'd put on more lipstick, but it was already looking rough around the edges.  "We'll make this okay."

"Yeah," he said.

Neither of them believed it.

"Let's get this over with," she said, stepping up to the podium.  "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Thompson has an announcement that he would like to make.  We won't be taking questions, but I will endeavor to answer any questions you have after Eli is finished."

Stepping up to the microphone felt like climbing Mt. Everest.  It loomed over him, larger than life, as he tried to keep his hands from shaking so that he could read the stupid cards.

"Hello, everyone, and thanks for coming today," he said.  One card down, twenty-six to go.  "I requested this conference to make a very important announcement.  I regret that this is coming so close to the much anticipated fight, and I know how disappointed my fans are going to be."  Card two fluttered to the floor.

At the back of the room, the door opened.  Eli glanced up, stopping in shock when Van stepped into the room.  He looked windblown and frazzled, his shirt collar sticking up on one side and his jeans smeared with black.

"I am..."  Tearing his eyes back to the cards, Eli choked out the next line.  "I am so sorry for any inconvenience to the organization that I've caused, but as of today..."  He stared at the words on the card.  Three words, short and painless.  "As of today, I..."

He looked up again, his eyes welling with tears as he took in Van's face.  There was a dirty streak down one side of his face, and he looked tanned and gorgeous.

"I am..."  Eli swallowed.  "I'm pregnant," he said, dropping the cards.  "The Championship match had to be canceled because I'm pregnant."

The reporters immediately began shouting questions, and Eli couldn't hear a word of it, watching Van's eyes widen in shock.  This was it.  This was the moment that Eli broke everything.  He couldn't look.

He ducked his head down and stared at the spot of carpet in front of the podium, waiting for Kim to come rescue him like she always did.  He wasn't expecting Van to be there, pulling him into a tight hug as cameras flashed all around them.

"What are you doing?" Van said, kissing him hard before Eli could answer.  Van tasted like pina colada's and sunshine, and Eli clung to him like a starving man.

When he couldn't go without breathing any longer, he broke the kiss, staring at Van.  "I have to retire."

Van frowned.  "You have to retire?  Why?  Because you're pregnant?  That's against the law."

"I won't be able to fight with a baby," Eli said.

"Well, sure, but you'll be back on the circuit in what?  Less than a year.  Natalie will have you whipped back into shape in no time."  Van was staring at him in confusion.  "Jesus, you're having a baby.  We're having a baby.  Papa's going to be on the next plane when he finds out."

"I can't fight while I'm... Wait, you're staying?"  Knotting his fists in Van's shirt, Eli pressed their foreheads together and tried not to cry.

"Of course I'm staying," Van said, his voice going soft.

"I wasn't sure."  Eli choked on a sob, forcing himself to stop before he started crying on national TV.

"Be sure," Van said firmly.

"I'm going to be a terrible papa."

"You'll be fine.  You should hear the stories Papa tells of when I was a baby.  I survived living in a yurt in western Canada with no running water for a year, and I turned out decent enough."  Van pulled him in for another kiss, licking his way into Eli's mouth until Eli melted against him.

"You really think I can get back in the ring?" Eli asked a moment later, panting into Van's neck as he ignored all the people watching.

"Man, if Martin Ilvanni could run the Boston Marathon within a month of giving birth, then you should be back in the ring by this time next year, no problem."  Van smiled, stroking his hand over Eli's stomach.  "Natalie and Kim will make sure of it."

"Natalie's mad," Eli said quietly.  "She thought I failed a drug test."

"She'll get over it," Van said firmly.  "You love boxing.  You can't honestly tell me that you want to retire."

"No."

"Then don't.  You got this, baby.  I'm behind you all the way."  Brushing Eli's cheeks gently, Van turned him back to the podium, walking him over there and standing at his side.  "Sorry for the delay, folks.  We have an announcement we'd like to make."

Eli glanced at him, his stomach churning.  He couldn't do this, but he couldn't imagine not.  "I want to apologize to the fans who will be disappointed by the cancellation of the fight," Eli said, his voice shaking.  Van laced their fingers together, and he sucked in a deep breath.  "I promise, on this day next year, I'll be back for this fight."

"Yes!"  Kim whooped, jumping into the air, and the reporters began talking over one another trying to ask questions.

Eli ignored all of it, staring at Van with a smile starting to stretch across his face.  Maybe it would be okay.