Entangled

Chapter 2

Author's note: Next chapters might not be up until the weekend, because I want to make sure everything fits decently. (And I need to catch up on THE BOOK OF BOBA FETT.)

Call your mother. It can be an order, an admonition, a suggestion, but for Becky it was like a spectre looming over her. She always wanted to make her parents proud, but there was something different about her mother. Her father had always believed in her dreams and her talent and had encouraged her to pursue them, but her mother had been more reluctant, pointing out the flaws in her plans and all the things that could go wrong. Becky has no desire to have an I told you so moment, but she has always wanted to show her mother that she was capable because of her—her doubts, her worry, her practicality. All of the roadblocks her mother put up only made her stronger.

It won't be the first time she's called her mother with a pregnancy scare. The first was during her teenage years, as they often are, and it had been one of her first wake-up calls. The second had been during the first time she had tried wrestling in North America. So far from home and her family, the prospect of having a baby had left her feeling lost and terrified; it had been another false alarm, but the memory of crying on a bathroom floor, trying to read a tiny indicator symbol through tear-blurred eyes, is a strong one, one that gets her in the gut. She rests a hand on her belly now and slows her breathing, trying to focus on the potential bundle growing inside her. Maybe it's because the vigorous sex is over or because the room is almost silent, but there's practically no movement now, making it so easy to believe they had all imagined it. They had all been in the haze of pleasure, after all; it was easy to imagine sights and sensations that weren't there.

Sasha and Seth have gone out to get her a few different tests to try in the morning and it feels weird to have both her lovers gone, especially since they're running an errand on her behalf. Sasha wisely pointed out, though, that none of them know how werewolf pregnancies work—plus the full moon is mere days away—so it would be safer for her to stay back at the hotel. Becky's not quite sure how it's better for her to be alone, but Seth wouldn't know how to pick out a pregnancy test and Sasha doesn't like driving the huge SUVs Seth inevitably rents, so it makes sense for them to go together. The silence in the suite is rare, so Becky takes advantage of it and calls her mother. "Hey, Ma," she says softly when the line connects. It would be very early morning there, but her mother, despite being retired, is still an early riser by habit.

"Oh god, Rebecca, what's wrong?" Annette has never been one to mince words, whether in praise or in criticism. It's a trait Becky dreaded in her youth but cherishes now.

"I think I might be pregnant," Becky answers. She could say so much more, but she wants to hear how her mother reacts first. Annette has made no bones about wanting grandchildren, but she also knows what that would do to Becky's career. More than a year off all at once might easily put Becky back at the bottom of the division.

"Seth's, I'm guessing?" Annette asks. "Or are you out of the triangle now? Triad? I can't remember what you call it."

Becky takes a deep breath. "We don't call it anything, Ma. It's just... us." Her mother has never been a fan of their threesome, but at least she understands how important it is for Becky to have a pack, especially when she's so far away from home. "But yes, it's Seth's. Or it would be, if I am...." She's almost tempted to say it's Sasha's, but her nerves are already jangling. She doesn't need to add her mother's irritation to her growing list of problems.

"How far along are you?" There's the sound of a wooden chair being pushed back: Annette is clearly settling in for a long chat.

"I'm not sure. None of us know much about werewolf gestation. I know I should call Dad and get him to put me in touch with some of the cousins," Becky adds, "but I wanted to talk to you first." She knows her mother has always carried a sense of sadness over the fact that there's a huge chunk of her daughter's life she can't fathom, and Becky doesn't want to make her feel like her input doesn't matter. She gets up off the bed and heads for the sitting room, flopping down on the couch. Now that most of the roster knows about them, they tend to share multi-room suites: it gives them more space together, as well as options to be apart. "I'm scared, Ma." She says it so softly she can barely hear herself, so she's surprised her mother can. "I don't know what to do."

"But you don't know for sure, right?" Annette asks. "Have you taken a test?" Then she gives a self-deprecating chuckle. "I don't even know if a human test would work."

"Sasha and Seth are getting me a few to try tomorrow," Becky reports, "and we're going to contact some witches tomorrow too. So it's not confirmed, but... I felt it, Ma. Movement." She stops herself before she can relate exactly how the movement was discovered. Annette might tolerate her daughter's unconventional relationship, but that doesn't mean she wants details. "But I don't know how werewolf pregnancies work, so I'm not sure how long I have to... figure things out. The full moon's in a few days, and I don't even know if I can shift safely...."

"Oh, sweetheart." Annette's voice is almost a coo, and if Becky closes her eyes, she can practically feel her mother stroking her hair. "We'll get through this together, okay? Just like everything."

"We has to include Seth and Sasha, Ma," Becky insists. "Seth's the father—if there is a baby—so it's only fair that he gets a say. And Sasha's a part of this pack too—the biggest part. She's what brought us together in the first place. Without her, I'd still be doing solo runs." Becky can picture her mother frowning at that, some salty response on her lips—Brought you right into his bed, more like or That's one way to put it, I suppose—but Annette takes mercy on her and says none of those venomous things. "If... if I decide to keep the baby, it'll be a part of this pack, werewolf or not. Seth and Sasha would have to be on board for that. I can't expect them to take on a baby just because I want to keep it." She draws her legs up to her chest and rests her chin on her knees. "And I know I have my career to consider."

"You have a lot of things to consider, Becky." The short form of her name sounds so strange in her mother's accent. "And it's admirable that you want to factor your... packmates into that, but don't forget that this is your body and your life. You have to make the best decision for you."

"I know." Becky listens as her mother gives more advice—some generic, some rehashed, some intimate details about pregnancy that make her look down at her belly in dawning horror—until she starts to yawn. "I should go, Ma. It's been a long day, and I still have to call some cousins, and if I have to deal with witches tomorrow too...."

"Drink lots of water," Annette says, "so you have lots of pee for the stick to read."

"I will. Love you, Ma." After she disconnects, Becky goes into the bathroom, which connects the sitting area to the bedroom, and clears off a spot on the vanity for the pregnancy tests so they're easy to spot—and impossible to ignore—in the morning. Then she goes back to the couch and settles in, texting some cousins as she waits—waits for Sasha and Seth to return, for her nerves to settle, for the jumble in her head to make some sense. For some of those, she knows, she could be waiting a while.