Chapter Twenty-Three
Athena
The universe had a sense of humor.
I’d known this for years. I felt it in the way synchronicities aligned, in the way cosmic energy flowed through unexpected channels, in the way destiny had a tendency to laugh at people’s carefully laid plans.
But this?
This was the universe absolutely cackling.
I was lying in a hospital bed, genuinely thrilled to be pregnant, while my husband, the man who’d spent his entire adult life maintaining perfect control over every aspect of his existence, was unconscious in the bed next to me.
He’d fainted.
Julien Darcy fainted.
The neurosurgeon who performed twelve-hour brain surgeries without breaking a sweat had heard the word “pregnant” and just... collapsed.
Nathan had caught him before he hit the floor, barely... and now Julien was lying in the bed beside mine, perfectly still, his face pale, his breathing steady, completely and utterly unconscious.
And his colleagues... well, they were having the time of their lives.
“I need to document this,” Hayden said, pulling out his phone. “For posterity.”
“Don’t you dare,” I gasped.
“Too late.” He was already taking pictures. “This is going into the hospital newsletter.”
“It absolutely is not!”
“Dr. Julien Darcy, a renowned neurosurgeon, faints upon learning he’s going to be a father,” Hayden narrated. “Colleague’s report: he went down like a sack of potatoes.”
“It was more like a tree,” Nathan corrected. “Very rigid. Straight down.”
“Did he make a sound?” Quinton asked.
“A small gasp,” Nathan said. “Very dignified.”
“Nothing about this is dignified,” I protested.
“That’s what makes it so perfect,” Fitz said, grinning. “Julien Darcy, the man who color-codes his socks and schedules his bathroom breaks, just fainted because his wife is pregnant.”
“He’s going to be mortified when he wakes up,” Gabriel said, though he was smiling too.
“Good,” Hayden said. “He deserves it after all the years of judging the rest of us.”
“He doesn’t judge.”
“He absolutely judges,” Winnie interrupted gently. “But we love him anyway.”
I looked at Julien, still unconscious, his face peaceful in a way it never was when he was awake.
“The universe is testing him,” Freyja had said.
Well, the universe had a funny way of testing people.
“How long has he been out?” I asked.
Nathan checked his watch. “Four minutes, thirty-seven seconds.”
“Should we be worried?”
“Nah,” Hayden said. “His vitals are fine. He just... overloaded.”
“Like a computer?”
“Exactly like a computer. Too much information, system crashed. He needs to reboot.”
“That’s not how brains work,” Quinton said.
“It’s how Julien’s brain works.”
I wanted to argue, but... they had a point.
My mom appeared at my bedside, her earlier panic completely gone, replaced by pure joy. “Sweetheart, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really. Just a little dizzy earlier, but I’m okay now.”
“And the baby?”
“Perfectly healthy,” Morrison said, still grinning. “About three weeks along, based on the ultrasound. The due date is approximately late April.”
“April,” my mom repeated, her eyes getting misty. “A spring baby.”
“Aries or Taurus,” I said. “Depending on the exact date.”
“Either way, very strong-willed,” my dad added, appearing on my other side. “Just like their parents.”
“Woody,” my mom said, “we’re going to be grandparents again!”
“I know!” My dad was beaming. “This is wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!”
“Again?” Fitz asked.
“Our son, Dimiter, has a son, Orion, with his wife, Henley,” my mom explained.
“And our daughter, Phoebe, who’s married to Priest, a brother in the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club, had Tad through a surrogate.
Our oldest, Freyja—she’s the one married to Duncan; he’s in the Irish Mob,” my mom added proudly. “They are due soon.”
“So this will be grandchild number four.” My dad smiled.
Gabriel looked at Fitz and mouthed, Biker club?
Fitz shrugged, mouthing, Irish Mob?
“And the first one who’ll be raised by a man who faints at good news,” Hayden added, ignoring the questions on everyone else’s faces.
“Hayden!” I gasped.
“What? I’m just stating facts.”
“You’re being mean.”
“I’m being accurate.”
Julien made a small sound. Not quite a groan, not quite a sigh, and everyone immediately fell silent.
We all stared at him.
He didn’t move.
“False alarm,” Nathan groaned.
“Damn,” Hayden muttered. “I wanted to see his face when he woke up.”
“You’ll see it eventually,” Quinton said. “And it’s going to be spectacular.”
“Do you think he’ll cry?” Winnie asked.
“Julien doesn’t cry,” Gabriel said.
“He might now,” Fitz said. “This is a lot.”
“He’s going to panic,” Hayden predicted. “Full spiral. Probably try to create a spreadsheet for the baby’s entire life before it’s even born.”
“Oh God,” Nathan said. “He’s going to make a schedule.”
“Feeding times, sleeping times, developmental milestones.”
“Color-coded by trimester.”
“With contingency plans.”
“And backup contingency plans.”
“STOP!” I snickered, covering my mouth, trying not to laugh. “You’re all terrible.”
“We’re realistic,” Hayden corrected. “This is Julien we’re talking about. The man who has a laminated emergency protocol for his apartment.”
“He has a what?” my dad asked.
“A laminated emergency protocol,” Fitz said. “Fire, flood, earthquake, home invasion. All covered. With evacuation routes and rally points.”
“That’s... actually very responsible,” my mom said.
“It’s insane,” Hayden said. “Who does that?”
“Someone who cares about safety?” I offered.
“Someone who needs therapy,” Hayden countered.
Julien made another sound, and this time his eyelids fluttered.
“He’s waking up!” Winnie said excitedly as everyone leaned in.
“Give him space,” I whispered, trying to shoo them away. “You’re all hovering.”
“We’re observing,” Quinton said.
“You’re being vultures.”
“Accurate vultures.”
Julien’s eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then gradually sharpening as he took in his surroundings. The hospital room. The bed. Me, in the bed next to him. His colleagues all gathered around and stared at him with expressions of pure delight. “What...?” he groaned, his voice rough.
“You fainted,” Hayden said cheerfully.
Julien blinked. “I did not.”
“You absolutely did,” Nathan said happily. “Went down like a tree. I caught you.” Then quickly added, puffing up his chest, “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Julien’s face was turning red. “I don’t faint.”
“You do now,” Fitz stated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s very endearing.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
“Four minutes, fifty-three seconds,” Nathan verified, checking his watch again.
“That’s... concerning.”
“Your vitals are fine,” Quinton added. “You just had a little system overload.”
“I don’t have system overloads.”
“You do when you find out you’re going to be a father,” Hayden said, grinning.
Julien went very still. Then, ever so slowly, his eyes moved to me. “Athena,” he said carefully. “Are you... are we?”
“Pregnant,” I confirmed, smiling. “About three weeks.”
He stared at me. Then at Morrison, who was still standing in the doorway, looking amused. Then back at me. “Pregnant,” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“With a baby.”
“That’s generally how it works,” Fitz said.
“A human baby,” Julien continued, as if he needed to clarify.
“As opposed to what?” Hayden asked. “A baby giraffe?”
“I just... I need to...” Julien sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Gabriel said kindly. “This is big news.”
“Big news,” Julien echoed. “Right. Big news.”
“Are you okay?” I asked gently.
“I’m...” He looked at me, and something in his expression shifted. Softened. “I’m going to be a father.”
“You are.”
“We’re going to have a baby.”
“We are.”
“In approximately...” He looked at Morrison. “April?”
“Late April,” Morrison confirmed.
“So eight months,” Julien said, and I could practically see his brain starting to work again. “Eight months to prepare. That’s... that’s manageable. I can work with eight months.”
“Oh no,” Nathan muttered.
“Here we go,” Hayden said.
“He’s already planning,” Quinton observed.
“I’m not planning,” Julien said.
“You’re absolutely planning,” Fitz said. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re making lists right now.”
“I am not.”
“Nursery colors,” Hayden said. “Probably already decided.”
“Neutral tones,” Winnie guessed. “Beige. Maybe gray.”
“With organizational systems,” Nathan added. “Labeled bins. Color-coded by category.”
“A schedule,” Quinton said. “Feeding, sleeping, developmental milestones.”
“All cross-referenced with pediatric guidelines.”
“And backup plans.”
“STOP,” Julien said, but his face was red again. “I’m not... I’m not going to...” He trailed off.
We all stared at him.
“You’re absolutely going to do all of that,” I said gently.
He looked at me, opened his mouth, and closed it again. “Okay,” he admitted finally. “I might do some of that.”
“ALL of that,” Hayden corrected.
“He’s going to have a spreadsheet by tomorrow,” Fitz predicted.
“Tonight,” Nathan said. “He’ll make it tonight.”
“I’m not making a spreadsheet,” Julien protested.
“You’re definitely making a spreadsheet,” I said.
He looked at me, betrayed. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. I’m just also realistic about who you are.”
“I can be spontaneous.”
“You fainted when you found out I was pregnant.”
“That was... that was a momentary lapse in—”
“You went down like a sack of potatoes,” Hayden stated.
“A tree,” Nathan corrected. “Very rigid.”
“Did I at least fall gracefully?” Julien asked.
“No,” everyone said in unison.
Julien closed his eyes. “This is a nightmare.”
“This is hilarious,” Fitz chuckled. “And we’re never letting you forget it.”
“Never,” Hayden agreed.
“We’re going to tell this story at every hospital event for the rest of your career,” Quinton added.
“At your retirement party,” Winnie said.
“At the baby’s graduation,” Gabriel said, smiling.
“At their wedding,” my dad added cheerfully.
Julien looked at my father. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to help,” my dad said. “I’m enjoying this.”
“Woody,” my mom lightly chastised, though she was smiling too.