Mr. Briggs was understandably irate that Dagwood was dropping out of the job. He threatened. He yelled. He insulted. He did everything short of tearing Dagwood a new asshole. However, in the end, he seemed to accept that this was going to happen no matter what, though his reasoning was more than a little bit bitter.

“I should have known you were on your last legs. This is a young man’s game, a bold man’s game.”

Yeah, well, there’s no such thing as an old, bold bounty hunter. It’s one or the other. And now I’ve got a reason to grow old.

“I can refund you the money you’ve sent me, if you feel it’s been wasted.”

There was hesitation on the other end of the line. In all honesty, Dagwood really hoped that he wasn’t about to lose all the money he made because then his own time would have been wasted. However, there was a rustling sound on the other end of the line that seemed to be Mr. Briggs shaking his head, because what he said next was amiable enough. “No. You did good, honest work. And I have to say it’s an honor that I get to be the last one to have worked with you.”

Amiable enough, but not truly generous. Dagwood was pretty sure that last sentence was barbed as hell. However, he ignored it and just said, “It was always an honor to work with you, too.”

“You’ll be getting your last deposit in the next few days, and then we’ll be done with each other for good.”

“Fine with me. See you around, Mr. Briggs.”

The other man hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye. Dagwood sighed and shrugged. Oh, well. He hadn’t expected a farewell party, and this was a pretty good way to end it all.

After pocketing his phone, he went back into Irwin’s room in the hospital and watched him sleep. His condition continued to improve at a startling rate now that he had pulled away from the brink. Dr. Harrison kept marveling over shapeshifter healing powers, like he was observing magic rather than a simple fact of biology.

In a few days, Irwin might even get to go home, though he would be bound to a wheelchair if he wanted to move more than a few feet at a time. Though it was an old-fashioned recommendation leftover from the Dark Ages, all the doctors who came to see Irwin suggested that he limit himself to his apartment until he’d had the baby. There was no reason to go pushing at whatever miraculous stroke of luck had kept it alive through such strenuous times.

He was to do all the things normal expectant parents did, only tripled. Tons of rest. Tons of food. Absolutely no caffeine. No alcohol. No nicotine. Vitamins out the ass. Constant doctor visits. And did they mention the tons of rest part? Dagwood had observed with some amusement as the doctors kept repeating that, and how Irwin rolled his eyes each time.

The only thing that remained not quite right about the entire situation was that despite the efforts of the police, neither Miss Hemlock nor Kevin were found. They were still at large, still terrorizing Portsmouth with the threat of their presence. A mandatory curfew was now in place, and it seemed like every time Dagwood looked out the window he saw a cop car patrolling by.

The city was braced for disaster, holding its breath for the next attack.

But Dagwood tried not to care, because it wasn’t his business any longer. There were other people taking care of things because he had given up, and that was just how it was. In an effort to make things easier on himself, he refused to read newspapers, to watch the news on TV, or even to listen to the radio. Hear no evil, see no evil.

Somehow, they passed the time together in that room. Mostly, they spoke of the baby and their plans, though nothing could be set in stone yet. Both of them agreed that it would be best for all of them to move into Dagwood’s home as soon as Irwin had the baby and was ready to travel again. This was now possible because Irwin was still listed under his parents’ insurance policy, which was providing him with just enough to keep going. Barely. But now there was an understanding between them as well, that Irwin could no longer refuse if Dagwood decided he wanted to pay for something.

“Since I’m going to be moving in with you, you might as well let me chip in,” Dagwood said.

He loved the way Irwin’s blue eyes lit up, like the spring thaw had come to rid the world of ice. “Really? You’re moving in with me? Into my apartment?”

“Well, I did say I was going to staple you to your bed. I’ve got to stick around to make sure you don’t escape.”

Irwin swatted at him with the magazine he was holding. Why the nurses kept bringing him magazines was a mystery to them both. It was as if they just assumed that he wanted reading material, without asking if he preferred House Fancy or National Geographic.

The only real highlight of the hospital stay was when Irwin visited the maternity ward. There, a rabbit shifter with a surprisingly calm personality examined him from head to toe before declaring him to be in startlingly good shape. Then, they were allowed to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.

Dagwood listened to that high, rapid little beat, and felt love swell in his chest. It felt exactly as it had when he saw Irwin in the wishing well, as if he knew this tiny person so intimately without having ever met them.

Then they saw the ultrasound, and he had to sit down on the floor, despite the fact that there were several chairs set up around the room. He just hadn’t been able to make it to one in time before his legs gave out.

Irwin peered at him as best as he could while lying prone on the exam table, with his stomach covered in cold gel. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked. “I can’t see a fucking thing!”

Dagwood couldn’t see anything, either. He didn’t need to see. The grainy black-and-white pixilation on the ultrasound screen looked to him like TV static. It didn’t matter. It had just suddenly hit him that his child was in there, somewhere. His child was one of those gray blobs. He was looking at his baby.

Four days after the ultrasound, Irwin was allowed to go home. The hospital staff seemed reluctant to allow him to go, but there really was no need. Whether Irwin was improving because of the care he’d received, or if it was a result of sheer stubbornness, he was at a point where he would do even better at home.

The first thing they did when they got home was head to the bedroom, where they stripped down to nothing but their bare skin—bare skin and bandages, in Irwin’s case—to cuddle with no distance between them. Dagwood felt like crying at the sight of all the partially-healed wounds on his lover. He could feel their pain as acutely as if it was his own, or perhaps that was just the aching in his heart.

Irwin turned his head to look at him, letting his cheek loll on Dagwood’s arm. “What’s up with you?” he whispered.

Dagwood looked at him, feeling an overwhelming protectiveness surging inside him. If it was up to him, Irwin would never be allowed to leave his sight again. Too much had happened. He feared what else might come along. It was all too easy to believe that Kevin would come back for a third try on Irwin’s life. And Irwin was so weak right now, so pale. His hair was lank and in need of washing, and his thin form had grown even skinnier than ever. His eyelids were dark, either from too much sleep or not enough, despite the fact that everything he did anymore was punctuated by naps.

“I think I’m scared,” Dagwood admitted. “I know I’m scared. I really can’t stand to lose you. I think I would just die.”

Irwin snorted. The fact that he didn’t wince after doing this made Dagwood feel a little better. “You wouldn’t die. I’m pretty sure that you’re too stubborn to die, okay? And besides, nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m basically invincible at this point.”

Dagwood groaned and stared up at the ceiling, trying to fight away the latest round of nerves rising up inside him. “Don’t say that. You can’t afford to take risks.”

“I won’t. I promise. Besides, how am I even going to take risks when you’ve got me glued to the bed?”

“Stapled.”

Irwin laughed. The sound warmed Dagwood’s heart, chasing away some of his fear. He scooted a little closer to Irwin, wanting no distance between them at all. It had been terrible not to be able to touch like this, as much as he wanted, while in the hospital. Once, he tried to climb into Irwin’s bed with him but their laughter alerted that burly nurse, who warned Dagwood that if he ever tried this again she’d kick his ass.

“Hey, Dogwood? Do you think I’ll have scars?”

He thought of his own scars. Some of his injuries had been worse than some of Irwin’s, while he had gained other scars simply because the wound was in a spot on the body that didn’t heal as well as the rest. “I think so. I’m sorry, Irwin.”

“Do you think I’ll look like a badass?”

That comment was the last thing he expected. Whether it was a deliberate attempt to cheer him up, or just Irwin being Irwin, it worked and he laughed. Reaching out with one arm, he pulled Irwin closer to him and kissed the top of his head.

I love you so much.

Irwin hugged him back, as best as he could. “I love you, too.”

The days that followed were filled with leisure. Dagwood prepared meals and Irwin ate with even more of an appetite than ever before. He experimented with short walks, but if Dagwood caught him in the middle of one of these ventures, he would pick Irwin up and carry him back to bed.

They read pamphlet after pamphlet of material on child development and the process of labor, and they watched documentaries on parenting. When these things grew too serious and conflicting for their tastes, they switched to baby magazines and dumb online quizzes. The end result was that they learned quite a lot. Unfortunately, everything they learned was also terrifying.

Irwin clung to him after a particularly disturbing documentary and whispered, “I had no idea babies were so fragile. God, how are any of us even alive?”

Dagwood could only hug him, because he lacked an answer. As much as he was looking forward to meeting his kid, he was afraid of the very idea of it, too. This was a damn harsh world to live in, and it only got harsher all the time. He couldn’t imagine that raising a child would be easy. Still, he wanted to do it. Aside from his desire to meet Irwin, he had never wanted to do anything more.

As more time went on, Irwin started to complain of discomfort. Aches that hadn’t been there before, or aches that were worse than before. Swollen joints. Sluggishness.

Dagwood listened to these complaints with a calm face on the outside, but on the inside he was panicking. Never before had he experienced such strong panic. His stomach was a tingling mess and he felt dizzy, much too light.

He’s relapsing. Something went wrong. Infection.

“Well,” he said, “I think we should take you to the hospital. To check up on…all that.” His voice trembled only slightly, but it was taking every ounce of his control to even keep that under wraps. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Irwin and potentially cause more harm.

Also, he was wondering what it felt like to have a heart attack because if he was ever going to have one, it sure seemed like now would be when it happened. A hospital was probably the best bet for both of them.

He reached out to pick up Irwin but the omega backed up, surprisingly light on his feet for someone who had only recently survived being shot four times.

“Uh, no. I don’t think it’s that bad, Dagwood. Really. Maybe I’m on my period.”

Oh god, now he’s delirious.

“Irwin,” he said gently. “Men don’t have periods. And you can’t go into heat because you’re pregnant.”

Irwin crossed his arms and scowled at him, taking another defensive step backwards. “No shit? It was a joke. Dagwood, I’m fine. If I had known you were going to freak out, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Dagwood replied, while internally freaking out. He looked around the apartment, the jitters in his stomach growing ever stronger as he realized that he couldn’t see his car keys. That didn’t make sense. He never misplaced his keys. He never misplaced anything. God forbid a perp get away while he was trying to find his other shoe or something. But now, his keys were gone, and Irwin needed to go to the hospital, and…

Irwin just sat where he was on the couch, with his feet still propped up on the coffee table where he’d been getting a foot massage only moments ago. He looked both amused and confused, with a hint of exasperation mixed in there somewhere. “You look like a fish.”

More delusions? Dagwood doubled his search, while at the same time trying very hard to look as if this was completely normal behavior for him.

“Quit opening and closing your mouth. You really do look like a fish.” Irwin leaned his head against the back of the futon. “If you’re looking for your keys, they’re in your pocket.”

Dagwood grabbed for his pocket, feeling the jumbled bulge of metal there the instant Irwin reminded him. “Good,” he said. Pulling in a deep breath to try and stop his shaking, he said, “Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m a wolf, not a dog. You can’t trick me into going for a ride to the vet. But since you insist…”

Irwin stood up with some effort. Though that was no different from normal, Dagwood felt his worry only increase. He noticed for the first time that Irwin was actually beginning to look pregnant. He had no noticeable bump, but he just seemed rounder in general, as if he had filled out.

As if he had finally come into his own.

Dagwood’s eyes widened. He was pretty sure his mouth was open again. The Irwin he had first met was still there, but he was no longer as gangly or awkward. In fact, he was beautiful. Simply perfect, from his scruffy hair to his swollen ankles.

“What are you staring at?” Irwin grouched. He shoved his feet into a pair of new slippers that Dagwood had bought for him only the other day. Irwin had been wanting some sort of slip-on shoe that he could put on himself without needing assistance. Slippers were not what he’d had in mind, and Dagwood knew that, but if he got Irwin a pair meant more for outside wear, the man would be attempting to go outside in an instant.

It was cabin fever all over again.

“Let’s get this over with.” Irwin shuffled to the door of his apartment, taking it one careful step at a time.

I don’t think we have time for this.

Dagwood picked him up carefully with one arm behind his knees, forming a seat. Irwin leaned against him, pouting but not protesting.

When they arrived at the hospital, Dagwood parked in front of the Emergency Room doors and then turned to Irwin. “Stay here,” he commanded. “I’ll go inside. Get help.”

“Screw that,” Irwin said. “I hate wheelchairs.”

Unceremoniously, he undid his seatbelt, opened the passenger-side door, and stepped out onto the concrete. He started shuffling away and called back over his shoulder, “Park the car. I’ll be inside waiting on you.”

Dagwood stared after him and shook his head. He couldn’t help but to smile despite his fear as he drove off in search of a spot. There was never going to be a dull moment in this relationship, that was for sure.

After finding a parking spot, he ran back to the ER doors and burst inside. The waiting room was immediately inside, opposite a counter where a very burly nurse sat. Dagwood took one look at her and inwardly groaned.

Irwin stood at the counter, chattering easily with the nurse, who nodded and laughed in response. Dagwood had a feeling that they were laughing at him and his suspicions were confirmed when he wandered over and heard the tail end of their conversation.

“But can you really believe this? Can’t you just take me back, slap a band-aid on me, and call it quits?”

The nurse laughed. “I’m afraid not. He’d only go crazy once he found out. And speaking of the devil, here he is. Hey, sweetcheeks. Remember me?”

“I remember you promised to kick my ass,” Dagwood said.

She slapped her hand lightly on the counter and laughed. “Right, right! Don’t take any offense by it, hon. I say that to all the troublemakers.”

Great, now he was a troublemaker.

“Can you please just put us on the list or something? Or get us in right now. I’ll pay you. How much do you want? Cash or debit?”

The nurse stared at him as if he had gone nuts. Since he felt like he had, he really didn’t blame her for her perception. “Sir, this a hospital not a whorehouse. You can’t just pay us enough and expect it to get us to do whatever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

She looked from him to Irwin. “Do you see now why I threatened to kick his ass?”

“You should probably go ahead and do it. He’s a bit uppity sometimes.”

“Irwin!”

Irwin lifted his hands. “Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth!”

Dagwood ignored him and turned back to the nurse. “So?”

“Sir, would you look behind you at that waiting room full of other people? They all got here first. Some of them need treatment more than the imaginary wounds on your boyfriend. If you can look at them and then still tell me that you need priority, I’ll get Irwin rushed back there so fast he’ll break the sound barrier. Fine?”

Hoping against hope, Dagwood turned back to look at the waiting room, which was really more of a long, shallow alcove set against the wall. It was full without being crowded, encompassing a family of four, a couple holding hands, and a number of individuals. The family was composed of a mother and three young boys, all of whom were whimpering and sniveling as they clutched at various swollen parts of their bodies. However, they seemed not to be crying out of pain, but more from the fact that they had been given a sound scolding for whatever weird daredevil act got them injured.

Not for the first time, Dagwood wished for a girl pup.

The couple holding hands were both looking at the same phone. Staring at it. The others were all shifting restlessly or sitting dully, some of them also nursing broken limbs or visible injuries.

Dagwood looked back at the nurse. “Okay,” he said quietly. “We’ll sit and wait.”

“Thank you,” she said, then turned and spoke to another person who had come up behind her. Turning back, the nurse pointed out one woman in particular. The new arrival went around the side of the desk and said, “Missy Holtgrave?”

The woman rose to her feet and started shuffling forward. Her features were determined and yet desolate, as if she was steeling herself for a great amount of disappointment in the future.

The burly nurse at the front desk said, “If you two could take a seat…?”

Dagwood gripped Irwin’s hand and guided him over to the waiting area. Now that the woman had moved, there were two seats right beside each other. Dagwood reached out to help Irwin sit, but his hands were pushed away with a snort of playful indignation.

“First you make me go to the hospital and then you won’t let me sit down on my own? Please.”

Feeling discouraged, wondering for the first time if perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, Dagwood sat down and placed his hands on his knees.

“Hey, buddy,” said the man at his side. “I heard your conversation up there.”

Irwin was pouting at his side, scowling at a magazine, so Dagwood couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t heard this guy. Steeling himself for a confrontation, he turned back to look at the guy. “Yeah?”

Oh, he’s a shifter.

He’d been so distracted with everything else that he hadn’t even noticed the presence of one of his own kind in the same area. The man wasn’t a wolf, however. He looked slim and streamlined in a way that a wolf never would be, and his scent was distinctly prey-like and yet dusty at the same time. Some sort of bird.

“Swan,” the other man said, his voice low. Someone else in the waiting area had the TV on at a quiet volume, just enough to render their voices indistinct if they were careful about it. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t know what you are. We birds have poor senses of smell.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t know what kind of bird you were so I guess that makes us even.” This was a surprisingly calm conversation, not at all what he’d been expecting. “So, you said you overheard my conversation? Do you have a problem with me now or something?”

“No,” the swan laughed softly. “You look older than I am so it might be weird of me to ask, but is this your first kid?”

The swan didn’t have a great sense of smell, so how else had he figured out that Irwin was pregnant? Some sort of bird sense?

“Yes, it is. How did you…”

“I can’t read minds, but you sure are acting like someone who’s about to have their first baby. I’ve got five kids myself. I’m here because my 13-year-old, my eldest, who was supposed to be setting a good example for his younger sisters, skateboarded into traffic and hit a truck. Truck didn’t hit him. He hit it. Fell backwards. Cracked his head against the road. So now he’s here and I hope this concussion scrambled his brains back into better shape than they were before.”

“How are you not panicked?” Dagwood demanded. “Where’s your wife? Why isn’t she here freaking out, too?”

“Well, my wife works.” The swan looked as if he was about to go on but he must have seen the confusion that crossed over Dagwood’s expression. He hadn’t meant for it to happen and there was nothing inherently wrong with that statement, but he just hadn’t been expecting it. “She’s the Superintendent for PPS. And after school hours, she works in her art studio. She’s a very busy mom, and since we don’t need a second income, I’m the one who stays at home.”

It was as if someone had shone a light near Dagwood, allowing him to see for the first time in a long while. He could retire but Irwin’s future could still be wide open for him if he wanted it to be.

“But anyway, like I said, we’ve had five kids. I was there for every birth, every complication. And I’ve been here the whole time while they’re all growing up. And let me tell you, I have seen some shit that would give non-parents PTSD. I won’t tell you any of those horror stories. Someone else will do that for me. But let me give you some advice…most broken things can be fixed. Most difficulties can be overcome. So, don’t sweat the small stuff. Don’t panic over the little things. Save it all for when your kid tries to stick a fork in the only electrical outlet you forgot to babyproof.”

Dagwood winced, but he knew that the other man had a point. His actions up until this point had really been kind of inexcusable. He’d overreacted for nothing and now everyone else he’d come into contact with was inconvenienced.

“Maybe you’re right,” he sighed, then raked a hand back through his hair.

“I know I’m right,” the swan said cheerfully. “Another word to the wise. When it comes to your kids, you’re always right, even when you’re wrong. Don’t back down, because they can smell fear.”

Dagwood laughed. It was odd how it had taken the word of a stranger to get through to him, but his karate training advised him to always learn from those who had something to teach.He thought he’d learned quite a lot just now.

Just then, a nurse emerged from the doors behind the counter and called out, “Mr. Grant? We need you to come control your son. He keeps trying to climb out the windows. Which don’t open.”

The swan rolled his eyes and glanced over at Dagwood. “And I’ll leave you with a final word to the wise. Have a daughter. I’ve got four but even with all the drama, at least no one’s getting their heads knocked in.”

Dagwood smiled and held out his hand. “Thanks for all the advice. What’s your name?”

“Adam.” Adam gripped his hand and then stood up so he could go wrangle his child. “See you some other time, maybe. Hopefully not here.”

Dagwood was aware that someone was poking him in the side, rather harshly. Wincing, he turned and looked at Irwin. “Ow! What?”

“I’m glad you made a friend,” Irwin said sincerely. “But have you maybe tried going to a rec center or something first? Why was your first choice a hospital?”

“Very funny.” Dagwood frowned at him, but he couldn’t even pretend to be irritated. Wrapping his arm around Irwin’s shoulders, he drew him in close and hugged him gently. “I’m going to guess you heard most of our conversation.”

“I did. Does this mean you’re less likely to be a neurotic weirdo now?”

“It means I’ll try.”

They kissed and then settled down to wait. The waiting area emptied out and then filled up again as more people entered. One man was rushed straight into the back without hesitation, leaving behind only the salty scent of blood.

Eventually, Irwin was called back. Dagwood went with him, though the nurses looked displeased at this development and tried to convince him that he would only be in the way. They were very polite about it, though they kept shooting him glares when they thought he wasn’t looking. Passive-aggressiveness at its finest.

Irwin was diagnosed with an acute case of pregnancy. As soon as the ER doctor started to explain that these symptoms were normal, Dagwood found himself nodding, recalling everything he had read on all those pamphlets. He felt sheepish, even more so because Irwin looked smug, as if he’d already known all this. He probably had.

That Adam guy was right. I need to calm down. If anyone is going to know when something’s really wrong, it’s Irwin.

They were sent home rather quickly, with a prescription for relaxation. As in, the doctor actually wrote down the word “relaxation” on a piece of scrap paper and gave it to Dagwood.

“Take it as needed,” he said, completely serious.

He was glad that everyone else seemed to think this situation was hilarious. He had become the punchline of a joke without ever having heard the set-up.

When they were back in the apartment, Dagwood turned around to lock the door behind himself. “Okay,” he said. “You can gloat, now. I deserve it.”

But instead of gloating, Irwin just reached up as best as he could and wrapped his arms around Dagwood’s neck. “It’s really sweet that you care about me so much,” he whispered, and kissed Dagwood’s cheek.

Dagwood blinked away tears at the sudden sweetness of the gesture. “Well, I love you. I just want what’s best for you.”

“In that case, you can pick up with my foot massage where you left off, please.”

Of course there was a catch. Grumbling, but happy, Dagwood followed Irwin to his futon.