It has been a week since our gig at the Lava Lamp, and the nausea hasn’t given me a fucking break since. Every morning starts with me rolling out of bed in a panic as I scramble to the bathroom before filling the room with the most unpleasant noises, sounds anyone who had the stomach flu would understand. If I had that, it would be great but I’m not that lucky it seems. Unlike the flu, once I throw up, I feel pretty good except for being tired. Really tired. Anon has been doing his best to help me, keeping me steady as I attempt to at least practice a few songs before collapsing back on the bed.

Anon is getting ready, putting on his fanciest clothes—a shirt without holes in it and jeans that have been washed this week instead of last. He wanders over to the microwave next to me, rubbing my shoulder.

“Hey. How are you feeling, Fang?”

I groan with my eyes half open, giving my best effort not to look like roadkill twice run over. “Horrible. I haven’t felt this crappy since…well since never. I’m hoping some nuggies might help with whatever the fuck is going on with me, or at least give me some energy back. They’ve always been there for me.”

He kisses me on the cheek. “I’m sorry. Wish there was something I could do to help.”

I nuzzle my snout against his cheek. “You do plenty Anon. Just keep doing that magic you’ve been doing for the band and that’s plenty for me. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

He gives me a quick hug before sitting down at the desk. “I’ll do my best, no worries there. Stella has been texting me nonstop today. Apparently, she needs me for some meetings in a little bit for a few more concerts.” He smirks. “Looks like your performance has turned some heads.”

I smile weakly, wishing I had more energy in me right now. “That’s fucking awesome! All that hard work…. Finally we are making it to the big time instead of playing at whatever restaurant or club is looking for some fucking background noise.”

A prideful smile crosses his lips before he holds up a finger, answering the call that comes through. “Hey Stella, what’s up?”

He turns to give her his full attention as I watch the nuggies spin in the microwave. The normally intoxicating smell is having the total opposite effect on me today, nearly causing me to retch as the microwave dings. I take them out and stare at them. Even putting my favorite sauce on them doesn’t change the smell that makes my stomach churn. I hesitantly take a bite, instantly spitting it out as horror creeps over my face. What can be so fucking wrong with me that not even nuggies can bring me comfort?!

I kick the cabinet before grumpily stomping over to Anon and putting the plate down next to him. I fall sideways onto the bed, tears rolling down my face.

“Awesome, I’ll see you in thirty. I need to go though, Fang needs me. Bye.” He clicks the call off and shoves his phone into his pocket before staring at the plate I left next to him. If there were any alarms left to set off, this blows the fucking top off of them.

“This is not normal, Fang. Not when we first started dating, not even now when I think our relationship is in a better place than it’s ever been have you actually given me any of your nuggies, let alone the whole fucking plate.” He stares directly into my eyes as I try to look away. I am shaking. He is right, this isn’t normal. I don’t share them with anyone…not even someone I love.

He gets up and sits beside me, gently stroking my hair as I weep silently into the pillow. “Fang…call your mom today while I’m gone. Whatever is up with you right now, she will know. You aren’t sick, not in any way I’ve ever seen. Something is up…and I think she can help.”

My mouth hangs open as silent sobs shake through my body with my wings pressing against my back. “I’m scared. What could this even be? Why does it have to happen now? We are finally making progress and this needs to stop. I have to practice.” I struggle to reach out to my guitar but Anon grabs my hand and holds it tight.

“You can practice later. Whatever is going on, we need to do something about it. I’m going to go meet with Stella; she’s got a bunch of people lined up and I need to make sure they are going to pay you right. Call your mom as soon as I leave, okay? That way you’ve got privacy for whatever the heck you guys might need to talk about.”

I give up trying to grab my guitar, grasping his hand instead and giving it a squeeze. “Okay…I’ll call her. I just need a sec to calm down. Don’t waste those nuggies…take them with you, please.”

He kisses me on the forehead before standing up, taking the plate in hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t let these golden treasures go to waste.” He tosses a couple in his mouth, savoring the flavor I wish I could before snagging his keys and heading the door. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I smile as best as I can as he walks out the door, locking it behind him and leaving me alone to roil in my thoughts. My fingers clench my shoulders, digging through my feathers and resting against the scales beneath. I don’t really want to call her. I don’t want to know what she’s going to say but at the same time, I can’t just ignore it.

I sniffle, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. I stare at the contacts, my finger hovering over her name. Fuck me, what is she going to say…? It doesn’t matter, whatever is wrong I need a solution or at least an answer.

I click call, placing the phone against my ear listening to it ring. A couple of rings in, I hear her cheery voice on the other end.

“Oh, Lucy! So nice to hear from you! How are you?” She still doesn’t have a cell phone, but Naser recently got her a landline with caller ID so at least she is somewhat in this century.

“Hey Mom…I’m not feeling that good, actually.”

She gasps softly, clicking her tongue. “That won’t do! I’m sorry honey, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah, uhm there is…” Silence stretches on for close to a minute before I can gather enough courage to say anything. “I need some help with this…I’ve been sick for like a week but it doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever dealt with. I was hoping you could help me figure it out.”

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

I explain to her all the symptoms I have been dealing with. How tired I am, the bouts of nausea without any reason, and the fact that smells and stress seem to trigger it. The fact that I feel better for a while after throwing up, even if I’m still tired, but that I’ll get randomly sick again later. Even the smell of my favorite foods is setting it off.

There is a long pause. I can almost hear her thinking as a heavy sigh pours through my speaker. “Lucy…honey…I think you need to buy a pregnancy test.”

My eyes open wide in shock, my pupils instantly disappearing as the phone starts to shake in my hands. “No…no…no way, Mom, it can’t be that. You’ve got to have another answer other than that!”

“I’m sorry. Everything you just said is exactly what I went through when I was carrying you two. The triggers, the symptoms, the fact you feel fine otherwise until it hits…”

I shoot up in bed, huddling up against the wall as tears start to flow down my face. No, this can’t be happening. It has to be something else! This could ruin everything. How can I possibly fucking perform on stage with a fucking baby in my body!?

“Isn’t…isn’t there anything else you can think of? Please…there has to be some other explanation.”

“Nothing I can put my claw on. But if nothing else, if you buy one and it turns out negative then you’ve ruled it out. Perhaps it’s just some weird bug going around but it’s better to be sure.”

A shaky sigh passes my lips as I struggle to keep my composure. “Okay…I’ll do it. I really hope you are wrong, but I need to know for sure.”

“No matter what happens, I love you, Lucy. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything else.”

“I love you too, Mom. Thanks…I gotta go to the store before Anon gets home. I’ll call you later…goodbye.”

“Goodbye, dear.”

I end the call and the phone falls limply from my fingers, bouncing on the bed. I run my hands across my face dragging down my cheeks. I need anything other than what she just said, but what if she’s right? Fucking shit, I really hope it’s not what she said but if I don’t find out for sure…

I grab some clothes from the dresser, tossing them on and lazily combing my hair so I doesn’t look like I literally just rolled out of bed. The pharmacy down the street will have what I need. I dash out the door, not wanting to be gone too long if my guts decide to rebel against me again. I quickly walk through the automatic doors and head to the back, snagging up a test kit before heading to the front. The cashier silently rings up my purchase, barely looking up, which at least spares me any stupid congratulations I don’t want.

The walk home is quick, quicker than even me getting down there as I slam open the door and lock it behind me. I hold the box in my hands, shaking as I fear what it might tell me, but I need to know. Throwing my stuff on the bed, I lock myself in the bathroom and follow the instructions on the box. I set a timer on my phone and the seconds passed agonizingly slow as I stare at the readout, hoping and praying for it to be negative. It beeps as I stare at the lines in fear—two solid lines.

I scream as I throw the test against the wall. It bounces harmlessly before landing on the bathmat on the floor. All of my worst fears confirmed by a tiny fucking stick of a device. I rage in the bathroom, throwing things everywhere and slamming my fists against the counter. It has to be wrong…this can’t be happening. I can’t be pregnant! How will I tell Anon? How will I tell my mom? How will I fucking tell the band that just as we’re finally making our name known, I got myself fucking knocked up?!

My fury causes me to wail as I keep bashing my fists against the countertop, blood starting to trickle from the puncture wounds caused by my talons digging into my palms.

“This isn’t happening! I can’t fucking be pregnant…this is a nightmare. I need to wake up. Please let me wake up!” I scream to no one. I am alone right now with a whirlwind of emotions and nowhere for them to go. “Raptor Jesus, throw me a fucking bone…this has to be a joke!”

My wings are stretched to their limit as the feathers on the ends shudder with my inner turmoil. I have no way out of this…if this is real, I’m fucked. I storm out of the bathroom, knocking over a chair before kicking it against the wall. I grab a plate and fling it across the room, causing it to shatter to pieces against the front door. I slam my fists into the wall, repeatedly bashing the same spot, my knuckles turning red and bruised.

“Hell fucking no! I did not work so hard to get this point to get pregnant and have my dreams ruined! Fuck this!” I kick the wall hard a few times as every ounce of my anger starts pouring out of me. “No, no, fuck this, fuck that, fuck everything!”

I angrily grab an empty bottle, throwing it at the door before kicking some of the broken glass toward the trash can, nearly knocking it over in the process. It goes on for what feels like forever, knocking over everything that isn’t valuable as my fury surges, though something keeps me from breaking anything else. I am pregnant, there is no way this is anything else, and it drives me mad. How can I be so fucking stupid? I should have taken more precautions, but I did nothing and now I’m sitting on the edge. Everything could fall apart and it would be completely my fault.

I fall to my knees on the floor, weeping, surrounded by knocked-over furniture and scattered CD cases. “What have I done…why wasn’t I careful? The band…my friends…I’ve ruined everything.”

In a moment of weakness my wings seem to move all on their own in front of me, the pure silver white plumage staring back at me as I shudder uncontrollably. My eyes shake as I reach out toward the feathers in front of me. Something inside yells at me to stop, every ounce of my soul rebelling against what I want to do. No…stop! Don’t! I scream internally as my hand gets closer to my wings. I’ve worked so hard to nurse them back to health…don’t! My hand trembles as my fingers barely begin to touch the center of my wing. With the last ounce of my willpower I close my fist, stabbing myself in the palm with my claws as I fight the urge to preen. I yelp out in pain as I grip my injured palm, blood dripping down my wrist.

I cover my face with my hands, a small amount of blood smearing on my beak as I sob uncontrollably, curling up on the ground. I don’t know what to do. What if Anon leaves me? What will I have left after that? I’ll be just another single mother living with her parents, with no prospects left in life except trying to find someone who can maybe put up with me or die alone with my kid hating me for being a terrible fucking mother.

My sobs slow as the adrenaline wears off, exhaustion settling in as my eyes grow heavy. Sobs drop to sniffles as I close my eyes. The place is a fucking mess. I don’t even know how much damage I did to the walls, but it can’t be pretty. Fucking hell, this is going to suck for Anon to come home to…if he even stays after I tell him the reason why…

******

An hour passes before I hear the door unlocking, the sound of bits of glass and ceramic scraping across the floor causing my eyes to flick open. Oh shit, Anon’s back. How long have I been on the floor!? I try to get up, but I am still exhausted as I look up at him. His jaw is hanging open as he looks around at the disaster that greets him before he locks eyes with me.

“I’m sorry, Anon. I fucked up. I…I got some news and I lost my shit. I’m sorry.”

He carefully walks over the glass shards to reach me, kneeling down beside me. “It’s fine, Fang, we’ll deal with it. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just…I’m really tired.”

“That’s good at least. Can you get up?”

I nod weakly to him and he helps me back to my feet, leading me over to the bed before sitting beside me. “So, what happened? What could have caused this bad of an episode? This isn’t nearly as bad as the time I found you tearing yourself to pieces on the roof, but still…you showed that wall no mercy.”

A shuddering sigh shakes through my body and I choke back a half laugh-half sob as I sit there, trying to figure out how to word this in a way that won’t cause him to bust through the window in terror. “Anon…Anon, I…”

He takes my hand in his, holding it gently as he gazes into my eyes. “What is it, Fang?”

“Anon…” I gulp down a knot in my throat as I start to shiver. “I’m pregnant, Anon.”

I close my eyes and I wince, waiting for him to get up and scream or run out the door but I am met with silence. I slowly open them to see him staring lovingly back at me with a soft smile on his face. “Fang, I can see why that would throw you for a fucking loop but…it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay!?” I stand up and my wings flare out as I stomp my foot hard on the floor. “How can it be okay?! I can’t be on stage dancing about in my outfit with my belly sticking out like a watermelon! Not to mention the fatigue and the cramps and all the other shit I’ll be going through…this will fuck up everything! Maybe if I hadn’t been so stupid and made you wear a damn condom once in a while this wouldn’t have fucking happened! But noooo, I had to think that our biology was too different for this shit to have happened so easily.” My hands slam against my thighs as I fall back down on the bed.

I look over at him with tears in my eyes. “Anon, there is no way I can do this…not while still trying to practice and play at shows. It’ll stop us dead with me having to care for a kid, not to mention I’ll be out for weeks when it gets close to the end. Or if there are complications and it tears me to pieces or if the kid dies or—”

He gently presses me to his chest, my face resting against him as I softly weep, tears staining his shirt. “Fang, I’ll do everything I can to help you with this. When you are practicing or doing your shows, I’ll take care of the kid. Trish can handle the muscle and Stella has been nailing the venue hunting, and my responsibilities are something I can easily take care of while keeping an eye on a tyke. You aren’t going to lose anything, it’s just a new part to take with us.”

I sigh, leaning into him. “How can you be so sure about all this? How can you know that this won’t fuck up our dreams?”

He kisses the top of my head, running a hand through my hair. “Because I love you. You know how much shit we’ve been through?” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “How many times I almost died on that boat…shrapnel tearing through my arms and legs, the amount of people I watched bleed to death in front of me.” His eyes go hazy as he relives his memories, staring a million miles into the distance. “Fang, I never thought I was going to come home. I was so sure I was going to die on a hunk of steel in the middle of an uncaring ocean, but then I came back home…and I found you. I won’t let anything stop us, not now.”

He smiles as he looks down at me “Like I said, I’m here for all of it not just the good. We can still pursue this dream and take care of a kid at the same time. Plus, come on…what kid wouldn’t want to grow up knowing their mom is a badass rocker chick huh?”

I chuckle weakly, still resting against him. “Shut up, dweeb…if we took them on tour, they’d never leave the bus.” A faint sigh passes my lips. “Do you really mean it? You’ll help me with them and we still can keep going with the band?”

“Of course I do. Don’t you worry about a thing. Except for the whole pregnancy thing and being incredibly hungry for a while…that will probably make you upset for a bit. And there are plenty of outfits we can make for you to hide anything you’d like and still be able to perform, up until the end, of course. You’ll need some time off, but you can always use that time for songwriting or maybe even recording an album if you want. We’ll work through everything together.”

I lean back from him, rubbing my temples and wincing. “Fuck…just tell me we don’t have any shows for a little while. I need time to recover from this shock.”

He laughs a little, wrapping an arm around my waist. “You’re okay, Fang. No major work for a couple of weeks but we do have a few concerts coming up after that. Plenty of time for you to recover from the shock and for your palm to heal up.”

“Still…I’m sorry, Anon. I really shouldn’t have freaked out plus you having to walk in and see all this mess, and the holes in the wall…”

“Hey.” He turns my face toward his and kisses me. “Don’t apologize for that. I’m proud of you.”

I look up at him with surprise. “Proud of me for what? Look what I did!”

He shakes his head, taking my hands in his. “It’s what you didn’t do. You didn’t hurt yourself and you didn’t tear your wings to pieces when you easily could. You were so prone to self-harm when we met and even though you did a number our walls, you barely put a scratch on yourself except for those cuts on your palms and those will heal quickly. You’ve grown so much since we met, Fang. That’s why I’m proud of you.”

My face turns red as I look away from him. “I guess…I guess you have a point when you put it that way. I’m still sorry I made such as mess. God, I’m still just so fucking shaken up about all of this. Can we keep this from the rest of the band? Just for a little bit.”

He holds me close, kissing me on the cheek. “Sure, we don’t need to tell them straight away. We’ll get through this together, and we’ll have an awesome little boy or girl stomping about the place adding some more excitement around here.”

My face softens as I smile at him. “Thank you, Anon…though you need to promise me something.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Do not dress them up as a pirate or anything else your crazy-ass mind can come up with.”

He thinks for a moment, tapping his chin as he stares at the ceiling. “That’s a tall order. I give you my word that I’ll only do it if it’s funny, or if I get bored and there is a costume place nearby.”

“Anon…” I glare at him.

“Okay, okay. I promise…mostly.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Well, that’s about all I can hope for from you isn’t it, dweeb.”

“Yep!” He grins. “I’ll never stop being a dork and having a tiny critter I can dress up is just such a perfect situation I cannot pass up.”

I shake my head with a tired sigh. “What in the world am I going to do with you?”

“Hopefully more of that incredible kissing you did that one time…holy crap, that was something else.”

“Oh?” I knock him on his back, slowly sliding up his chest. “You mean this?” I take his head in my hands and lock my mouth onto his, once more siphoning whatever air he has in his lungs into mine before pulling back and licking him on the cheek.

After gasping for breath, a silly grin spreads across his face. “Oh, sweet Raptor Jesus, I thank you for this gift that keeps on giving.”

I chuckle before lying down beside him. “Such a dweeb…but thank you. I don’t think I could have asked for anything better than the way you handled this. I love you.”

He turns his head to mine, kissing me with a loving smile. “I love you too. I’m with you, in everything. We’ll make this dream come true, no matter what.”

I smile back at him, deciding a nap is in order after what we just went through. Of all the ways this could have gone, I did not expect him to be so open to the idea of taking care of a kid or being so willing to take so much of it on himself. I wonder who the kid will be? My joyful thoughts of a potential adorable child gets shut out of the gate for a moment by one thought: Goddammit, I have to completely give up drinking. You better be worth it, kid.