The Child of Surprise

Late Night Confessional

During his military days, Geralt had faced many crises, all far more immediate and dangerous than the prospect of having a baby. He'd been deployed to numerous warzones, taken part in countless dangerous reconnaissance missions and raids, and had been in more sticky situations than he cared to remember. He'd been through a lot in the thirty-nine years he'd been walking this earth, yet he'd always come out the other end relatively unscathed, which he was thankful for on a daily basis. One would think that with all of these experiences under his belt, pregnancy would be a walk in the park by comparison. On the contrary, Geralt had never been more terrified in his life.

Not that his military experience had left him completely ill-prepared. One of the major benefits of serving was learning fear-management techniques; they were essential for survival in combat situations and should stand him in good stead with his current predicament. Geralt had always been a firm advocate of facing your fears head-on—avoiding things only ever made things worse. Geralt knew that he would adapt however he needed to in order to take care of this child, and if that meant raising it alone, so be it. That didn't, however, make the prospect of doing so any less daunting. But confronting Jaskier earlier that evening had helped alleviate a lot of the fears that he'd built up in his own mind—although he had been fully prepared for Jaskier to reject him, he was relieved beyond words that he hadn't.

He was still shit-scared about the whole thing, but he felt like he could handle it a little better now knowing that Jaskier was on board. Going home and cleaning his flat from top to bottom had helped, too. He'd always found completing simple tasks to be an excellent stress-reliever as it helped him feel more in control of his environment—at least, for a little while. After he'd run out of things to clean and tidy, he began rearranging the books on his shelves, then refolded all of his clothes. It occurred to him then that he'd need to buy everything in a bigger size soon and he added shopping for paternity clothes to his ever-growing list of things to do.

Once he ran out of things to do, he got ready for bed and spent the next couple of hours flicking through the bundle of baby books Yen had lent him. He'd rolled his eyes when he'd read the title of the first book, Give Birth Like a Feminist, but the contents were surprisingly useful; they highlighted the importance of birth plans to human rights, with a particular emphasis on the rights of Omegas.

When his eyes began to feel sore and itchy from tiredness, Geralt tossed the book onto the bedside table, switched off the lamp and turned onto his side, staring into the darkness as his thoughts returned to Jaskier. He'd been surprised at how well Jaskier had taken the news. He had braced himself for a plethora of responses—denial, anger, confusion, even a few tears wouldn't have surprised him—but despite the initial shock, Jaskier seemed to have taken the news rather well. Perhaps a little too well.

To be honest, Jaskier's calm and understanding demeanour had annoyed Geralt a little bit. Which was a silly reaction to have, he knew that. But when Geralt had first realised that he was pregnant, he'd been so angry—a little bit angry with Jaskier because he was the other culprit in this mess, but mostly with himself for allowing this to happen in the first place. Once the initial anger had receded, the fear had set in, and that was proving to be more challenging to get past. He still wanted the kid, no doubt about it, but it had taken him some time to calm down and be able to think through his options before coming to that decision. Jaskier, meanwhile, seemed to be taking the whole thing in his stride.

Geralt sighed and rolled onto his back. Well, he supposed that should be a reassuring sign. Although, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed at how badly he reacted to the news by comparison. Geralt struggled to get to sleep that night, and just when he was beginning to finally doze off, he jerked awake again with the sound of his phone vibrating across his bedside table. He reached blindly for the phone and squinted trying to see who the fuck was calling him at this hour, his eyes stinging from the bright LED light of his screen. When Jaskier's name popped up on the screen, Geralt's stomach dropped. Answering the call, he pressed the phone to his ear.