nineteen

As Phoebe sat on the bed, Emma paced vigorously around the room. It was a lot smaller than Tegan’s, more of an actual bedroom than a mini-apartment. There was a bed surrounded by two bedside tables, a desk with a chair, and a small sofa. A door was open in the far corner, leading into an en-suite, but that was it. There wasn’t a mezzanine or a kitchenette or a gym. It would take Emma all of five seconds to reach the other end of the room.

Unbothered by this, Emma paced back and forth like a tiger. She twisted her hands together, her nerves strung too tight for her to relax. Occasionally, she flicked a confused glance at Phoebe, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing here.

In all honesty, Phoebe didn’t know either. All she knew was that she couldn’t leave Emma alone, especially after she’d received such unexpected news.

“You’re a therapist. So do some therapisting,” she muttered as Emma turned for the seventh time.

“What?” Emma asked.

“Ah, um…I was just asking… Do you feel pregnant?”

Emma stopped to look at her. In another two seconds, she was pacing again. “Well, I haven’t been sick and my boobs feel fine.” She squeezed them just to check. “Yep, fine.” Shaking her head, she laughed without any humor. “You know, I asked Rogan about using protection? After the second time, I mean.” She looked sheepish. “There was a lot going on the first time. I was just getting my powers and my sister needed me, still does, and then I almost died and –” She stopped, took a deep breath. “Fuck. That bastard told me I was infertile, and that was a massive surprise because I have my period every month. Like, really? I think if someone’s going to be infertile, the gods could at least be nice and take away their period. That’s only fair, right?”

Phoebe stared dumbfounded. None of her classes had quite prepared her for this. Oh sure, they’d talked about all the different ways people handled trauma but to actually be face-to-face with someone on the verge of a panic attack? What if she messed up? What if she made Emma worse.

No, she could do this. She had her certificate and everything. Phoebe had gotten it using her real name, but surely no school would let her graduate just because she was the ward of Jólfrson Castle. Right?

“Shit, I am so not ready to be a mother,” Emma rambled.

“You might not be,” Phoebe reminded her, hoping that would calm her down. “So why don’t we get you tested first and then panic if it’s true?”

Crap, had she said that last bit jokingly enough or did Emma now think she should panic if she found out she was pregnant? Taking her own advice, Phoebe decided to focus on the cause of their concern first. If Emma wasn’t with child, then neither had to worry.

“Oh my God, yes!” Emma shouted. “Where do I get a stick here?”

“What?”

“A pregnancy stick to test if I’m pregnant.”

“Ah… You don’t. You go see a witch.”

This time it was Emma that was confused. “What?”

“A fertility witch. They do a simple spell and then tell you the sex, health, and time of birth to within an hour. They also tell you the father if you don’t already know who it is.”

“Right,” Emma said, a bit uncertain. “Where do we find one of those?”

Phoebe shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve been stuck in a tower for the last twenty-five years.”

“You mean like Rapunzel?”

“Nooo,” Phoebe said, stretching the word out as her eyes went wide. “That bitch was a serial killer.”

Emma blinked.

“But come on.” She stood up and held out her hand. “I’m sure Tegan will know.”

When Emma took her hand, Phoebe pulled her into a hug. “Everything is going to be fine. Even if you’re pregnant, you have a man that obviously loves you. You two would make great parents.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah.” Phoebe released her and grabbed the slice of cake. Taking a bite, she teased, “See? He’s already got the cooking down.”

Emma eyed it longingly, so Phoebe handed it over without qualms. “Thanks. For this” –she waved the cake in the air– “and for coming to check on me.”

Phoebe beamed. “Of course. What are friends for?”

Linking her arm in Emma’s, Phoebe led her back to the kitchen. Everyone was still sitting there. As one, they turned to face them.

Emma swallowed nervously. Phoebe patted her arm in encouragement. Facing Tegan, she asked, “Where can we find a fertility witch?”

“There’s a riot going on, remember?”

Phoebe winced. She’d hoped that after she’d wrestled her powers under control, that would be it. The demons, however, had had other plans.

“But –” She cut herself off after seeing the look on Tegan’s face. He wasn’t going to budge an inch.

“Jack can summon a pregnancy stick,” Charlie offered.

Twirling his fingers, Jack summoned one in a flash of green light.

“How come you get a fireworks display every time you do that?” Charlie asked curiously as she shifted Tony on her lap. “But your dad doesn’t?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe I’ll lose it over time.” He tossed the stick to Tegan, who then handed it to Emma.

The woman looked at it, her face ashen. Swallowing hard, she looked up with a fragile smile. “Right. Well. I guess I should…I should…wait for Rogan to get back. I mean, it’s only right. He’s the...the...the…” She took a deep breath.

“It’s going to be okay,” Phoebe promised. “You’ve got this whole big family and even a baby kaprosuchus. It’s already bonded, but –” She stopped when she finally noticed Tegan shaking his head. “Everything is going to be fine,” she added firmly.

Nodding, Emma headed for the bathroom on this floor. It was only a few paces away, between the living room and kitchen, but on the other side of the divider so they couldn’t see.

“If she’s pregnant, not a word gets out to anyone,” Tegan ordered as he glanced around the table. “The Royal Courts will have no qualms sentencing a newborn babe.”

“You think she’s actually with child?” Hunter asked.

Tegan shrugged. “I’ve never heard of a descendant having kids, but if Charlie says it’s possible…”

“How does Charlie know?” Phoebe wondered.

“Because I’ve read the Scrolls.”

“What scrolls?”

“The Scrolls of Atlantis,” Tegan explained. “I’ll fill you in later.” There weren’t many people that were aware of its existence. Mostly just the people in this castle, Sebastian, and Elizabeth. Everyone else had been killed.

“How long does this pregnancy stick take to work?” Xeno asked.

“Anywhere between one and ten minutes.”

“What’s one to ten minutes?” Rogan demanded as he phased in with the others. “And where is Emma?”

“She’s –”

“Emma!” Rogan roared as he headed towards the bathroom. The door was out of view from where they sat, but he could sense the water signature in people’s bodies. He knew exactly where she was.

“Rogan, wait! I’m –”

The door banged open.

“I could’ve been there!” Emma cried.

“Nay, I knew ye were on the seat.” There was a split second of silence, then a very confused, “Why are ye trying to catch ye piss?”

“I’m not! I’m…I’m…I…”

“Ah, Emma,” he said softly, painfully, and Phoebe knew she was crying.

Shifting on her feet, Phoebe looked awkwardly at the floor. She suddenly felt like an intruder. It didn’t matter that Emma and Rogan were on the other side of the divider and in a separate room. This was a private affair. A special moment regardless of the outcome.

“Should we go?” she whispered to Tegan, torn about what to do.

He shook his head. “We need to know.”

She was about to tell him they could find out later, when Rogan came out with a shaky Emma.

“Well?” Kaide asked.

Slowly, Emma looked up, the pregnancy stick clutched in her hand. Catching Phoebe’s eye, she smiled weakly. Then she looked around the room and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, no one knew what to say. Then Phoebe was rushing forward and pulling the both of them into a hug. It was as if she’d broken a spell. All of a sudden, everyone was partaking in the commotion, giving their congratulations through slaps on the back and half hugs. Xeno merely nodded, but that was a lot coming from her.

“I think this is cause for celebration,” Jack grinned as he conjured a six hundred year old bottle of wine. Charlie elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“She’s pregnant. She can’t drink.”

“Ah, shit, yeah.” He dismissed it and summoned a cake instead. It was two tiers of chocolate with an orange frosting. ‘Congratulations’ was written on the top in white lettering.

Emma smiled at him, her eyes wet with joy. “Thank you, Jack. It’s lovely.”

“Oooh. Oooh. Summon a reveal cake too,” Phoebe suggested. She looked at Emma. “I mean, that is, if you two want to know the gender.”

Emma looked up at Rogan. He smiled down at her, then kissed her lovingly. “Do ye wish to know?”

She hesitated a second before nodding. With a twirl of his fingers, Jack summoned another cake. This one was completely covered in white frosting except for the words ‘It’s a…’ scrawled on top in black icing. A magic spell had been cast while the cake had been made, allowing it to reveal the gender of the child of the woman who cut it.

“Shall we do the honors?” Rogan murmured as he squeezed Emma close.

“Wait! Can we do this in the hospital ward?” she exclaimed. “I want Galvanor and Matakyli to be here too.”

Rogan smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Aye.”

After moving everything up a few floors and inviting Adriel, Pyro, and Gabriel to join them, Emma once again stood over the reveal cake. She clutched a knife in her hand as she looked around the crowded room.

Matakyli and Rahu were both sitting up in their beds, finally awake. Galvanor and Leshi sat beside them respectively. Everyone else stood in hushed anticipation, most of their eyes on the cake.

Phoebe’s, however, were on Emma. She saw the love in the woman’s eyes and her heart tightened with longing. She wanted this. Not the kid, not yet, but the support and tenderness, the friendships, the family. Squeezing his hand, Phoebe smiled up at Tegan. He looked at her and she was taken aback at how purple his eyes were.

Pulling her close, he ravaged her lips. It was only when Emma started cutting the cake, that he looked up. Phoebe opened her eyes on a sigh. Her gaze immediately landed on the inside of the cake. As one, the room lit up with smiles.

“Um, what does green mean?” Emma asked just as Rogan burst into joyful laughter. He picked her up in his arms and spun her. She squealed, but it was lost beneath the rest of the room’s excitement.

A buzz of congratulations went up. She squealed again and then yelled, “What’s green mean?”

Rogan stopped spinning, but didn’t let go of her. He kissed her senseless. Only when her knees grew weak and she sagged against him, did he explain.

“One’s a boy,” he said, smiling as if he’d won the lottery. “And one’s a girl.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

He laughed. “Twins, Emma. We’re having twins.”