Rated: T
Pairing: Mystery Reveal
Genre: Family/Comfort
Words: 526 or so, I think. I didn't keep the best count this time. I got close. I'm happy with the story. I'm leaving it as is.
Origin: Tricky Raven's Weekly Drabble Challenge, Prompt #3. (You can see the quote picture prompt in the Every Dog Has Its Day group on Tricky Raven.)
A/N: I know, I know. I'm still on a weird baby kick. So sue me. My biological clock IS. TICKING. LIKE. THIS. (Even though my baby days are long over.) I wrote this one for Mel for her big birthmonth party (also because of ongoing TW sadness).
The Making of Me
My parents told me the story one time. How they got together, what kept them together. I'm still not sure how much of it I believe.
Werewolves?
In Washington?
But here I am and here they are and they look way younger than all my friends' parents. There's no denying that.
Dad finally asked her out after Uncle Jake and Uncle Quil caught wind of his infatuation with Mom in the pack mind.
They asked if she was his imprint, but he never said. Told me it was none of their damn business. I had to laugh at that. Dad doesn't swear, but his brothers bring out all his bad habits.
Anyway, they went out one Friday night, Dad and Mom. It was awkward. He was painfully shy and worshipped the ground she walked on. She'd been burned before and serious relationships made her skittish, like a deer.
Nothing doe-like about Mom now.
Determined to make it work, they decided one more date wouldn't hurt, but decided to keep it casual. They went to a bonfire with the pack the next night.
Somebody—Mom won't say who and Dad just grins and smirks when Mom clams up—broke into Old Quil's stash and the pack got pretty wild.
Dad and Mom never made it home that night. When they retell the story, they only ever say 'at least we made it to the woods'.
The thought of it makes me shudder. Have I sat in that spot? Ugh.
Six weeks later, they'd gone on a few more dates and were becoming good friends. They decided to put on the brakes a little after the incident with the moonshine. Slow things down. No need to rush when you're young and you have your whole life ahead of you—futures to plan, right?
Right.
Sometimes, though, even the best laid plans go awry.
Six weeks and three days after their first date, Mom got sick. Really sick. Dad freaked out. He and Uncle Jake took her to the clinic. She puked non-stop for two days before they got it under control. Tribal doctors had to be let in on the secret because they couldn't be sure if it was due to the wolf gene. Dad was beside himself.
Eventually, the doctor got a handle on mom's illness, treating her symptoms and working to find a cause.
He entered the waiting room the day after Dad brought her to the clinic and asked the pack to clear out for an hour or so. He needed to speak to his patient alone and she was entitled to privacy. Jake gave the order and it was done.
An hour later, Dad stood at the front desk, cautiously optimistic as he asked the receptionist if he could see Mom. She waved him through.
Mom sat on the bed, tears streaking down her face. She looked up as Dad entered.
His breath caught, terrified that her news was bad.
"I'm pregnant," she whispered, a tremulous smile lighting up her face.
Dad's smile lit up the world and Mom knew it would be okay.
That's my story. The making of me, Harry Call.