Chapter 44
Misty
Her kitties were all asleep.
Did this make her the ultimate cat lady?
Misty grinned silently at her own joke as she looked down at the three beings that were the center of her entire world.
Tsok on her left, resting his head against her swelling belly, one arm possessively around her hips. His ear twitched as she began gently stroking along his head, but he otherwise remained comfortably asleep as the sun set in their bedroom window.
The General was on her right, curled up in a cute little cinnamon roll of contentment. He made a little ‘brr’ when she began scratching his head, but he only curled tighter in on himself, not waking up as his purring machine kicked into overdrive causing Tsok’s ear to twitch again.
And between them, her kit was still as well. She’d started feeling them a while ago, though Tsok still wasn’t able to. Whenever she declared that she felt their kit moving, he immediately rushed over, but their shy baby would either stop moving or they simply weren’t strong enough yet for their movements to be felt on the outside.
But their kit was still now. Probably lulled to sleep by The General’s purring and their father’s breathing and their combined warmth pressing in on either side.
Her three kitties, all sleeping in her lap. Misty could see her future spread out before her now. Nights and mornings just like this, but with her kit in her arms, sleeping between Tsok and The General – protected and loved and safe.
And never, ever alone.
Misty closed her eyes. Not really sleeping, but just content to lay there in the still silence of the moment, unbothered and worry free.
Despite not having traditional family units, and few families even being ‘close’ like Tsok and Davard – more acquaintances than parental-child in closeness – female kreecharma still carried their young in their bodies. There were artificial wombs, but they were incredibly expensive and had a much lower success rate than IVF – the method currently most popular on Kree. Females would still get pregnant and deliver their kits like biologically normal, only separating from them afterwards.
That meant that, though the family unit was a foreign concept here, their prenatal and maternity care was well established and advanced. Well, advanced by human standards, she wasn’t sure how it compared to other alien species, but she had been looking up what to expect when it came to labor and delivery, and it really didn’t seem that bad.
They had birthing centers which were similar to hospitals but focused only on labor and delivery. She would be put into a very large bed that was similar to the medirings that were used in healing. Only this one was specifically designed to help her body go through labor as quickly, safely, and painlessly as possible. It would easily cut her projected labor time in half, and she likely wouldn’t feel anything but a painless pressure in her lower belly.
She wasn’t scared of giving birth here. She wasn’t worried that her kit was going to grow up in a prejudiced, backwater town full of meth heads and traitors.
Her prenatal scans were all progressing well. Since she was carrying a hybrid baby, there was extra attention being paid to her. But Jeanie had already done this twice, so her midwives already had a good idea of what to expect. For which Misty was grateful. She didn’t want to be the first one to go through something like this.
During the scan, the midwife doing the scanning – she wasn’t going to a healer since this wasn’t considered an illness or injury – had almost told her the gender. But Misty cut her off before she could say it.
She kind of wanted it to be a surprise.
Everything leading to this moment had been a surprise. Tsok and her loneliness, living in two separate manors, the rut, the fact that her wedding was quickly becoming a culturally significant event for the history books, even that she had come here at all.
She wanted to continue that with the gender of her baby. Neither Tsok nor the midwife understood. The two of them had argued that it would still be a surprise, regardless of when she found out, not able to really comprehend what she was saying. Gender reveals weren’t a thing here because the kits were typically raised in kit centers, and those officials were given their gender the moment it was determined in a scanner. There was no sense of wonder or joy to it, anymore than there would be for any other biological marker. It was like celebrating a blood type, they didn’t really get why she wanted the surprise.
But despite that, her midwife promised to keep it from them, and Tsok was happy to go along with it, stating the gender didn’t really matter. What was important was that their kit was healthy and happy, nothing else.
Misty had gotten pretty close to Jeanie recently, trying to soak up as much firsthand experience about her future baby as possible. There were a few surprises there too.
Kreecharma kits were born running around on all fours, their lower limbs lengthening and their back straightening only around year four or so. And, Jeanie had warned, if Misty’s kit was anything like hers, they’d be hyperactive little terrors. Kreecharma kits had a lot of energy, she warned her. Being hybrids seemed to crank that up a couple notches.
Of course, it could just be the fact that they were Jeanie’s kids. Jeanie herself seemed pretty hyperactive, but she was two-for-two on hyperactive quadruped babies, so Misty was ready for her own little speed demon just in case.
Though, judging by how often they moved in the womb, she wasn’t really concerned. They didn’t seem to be trying to run marathons in there.
Even as she had that thought, she felt a hard jab to her belly. Like her kit had heard her errant thought and wanted to remind her that she should not sleep easy at night.
Be afraid, that kick said. Be very afraid.
Tsok jerked his head up suddenly, staring down at her belly with wide eyes.
Her kit hit on the other side of her belly making The General jump up, tail going poofy. Misty very nearly broke down from the identical, wide eyed looks her belly got from both of them.
“Was that…” Tsok’s voice trailed off.
“I think they think it’s too quiet around here,” Misty said as her child, very obviously awake now, practiced their four-legged tap dancing routine inside her.
Tsok breathed out in wonder, resting his hand on her belly as The General sniffed at her skin, confused and concerned. Misty watched them both with an amused smile.
“That’s our kit,” Tsok muttered softly, like he didn’t even intend for her to hear it. “They’re inside you.”
“They can probably hear you,” Misty whispered back. She didn’t actually know for sure when babies started hearing things in the womb, and she definitely wasn’t sure when it happened for kreecharma or hybrid kreecharma babies. But she knew people talked to babies in the womb, and she figured it wasn’t too early to start.
“My little kit,” Tsok murmured, lovingly wrapping his arm around her belly. Resting his head back in place. Completely cutting off The General’s access – her cat sat there on the side of the bed, tail lashing in annoyance at the insult.
But Tsok was too focused to care, and Misty could only smile as she stroked her mate’s head.
Because he was her mate now. She wasn’t alone anymore. She had her cat, her oldest companion, her kit, her future companion, and her mate, her constant companion.
Tsok smiled as he cupped her belly, holding their kit as he ran riot in her womb. The General, in a huff, walked to the head of the bed and curled up on top of her head instead. Misty could only smile as she stroked his fuzzy back while Tsok nuzzled her belly.
None of them would be alone anymore.