BSM: You're 19 and they find a positive pregnancy test in the trash

Màu nền
Font chữ
Font size
Chiều cao dòng


exorsisms-are-hot.tumblr.com

I will be doing their pregnancy series.

***

Age 19: Your phone buzzed. The five minutes were up. You were sat on the floor of the dingy motel bathroom, leaning against the faded, green tiles covering the walls. You were shaking like a leaf, and there were already tears building in your eyes. You knew what the result was. You just knew it.

With a trembling hand, you reached for the stick lying on the sink. You had to take a deep breath before you could squint an eye open and peek at the test.

The little plus on the screen confirmed your fears.

You were pregnant.

The breath got knocked out of your lungs, and you the whirlpool of emotions swirling in your stomach had you hunching forward over the toilet bowl and hurling. By the time you drew back, you were full-on sobbing. You staggered to your feet on wobbling legs, knees buckling dangerously below it. You rinsed your mouth quickly before a sudden swoop of anger had you grabbing the stick in a tight grip and tossing it at the wall.

Despite putting all of your strength into that one throw, the stick just fell to the floor with a dull thud, whole. With the knowledge that Dean and Sam were out grocery shopping, you let out a toe-curling scream. You'd never heard yourself make such a sound before. It was full of anguish, and you scooped up the little piece of plastic, throwing it into the trash with more force than necessary. Before you could collapse onto the floor once again, you decided it was probably best to go for a walk before your brothers got back. You were in a right state, and you needed to think things through before you would have to face them, and inevitably tell them the truth.

There was a steady drizzle pounding down on the hood of your jacket as you ran across the pavement. It felt good to see everything pass by you in a blur. It felt like you could truly outrun your problems, as you lost all sense of time and direction. When you finally came to a halt, you collapsed against a brick-wall, panting heavily. Your tears were mixing in with the raindrops, so no one was giving you any looks as they hurried past you.

There was so much you had to figure out. First off, who the fuck was the father? All you remembered was brown tousled hair, blue eyes and maybe a long coat? Tanned? You couldn't remember. You must've been drunk off your mind or something. You could only remember glimpses while the rest was all a black void. Your hunter instincts were telling you that something fishy was going on, but you really didn't have the time to worry about that.

You couldn't get an abortion. You already knew that wasn't an option. You simply couldn't do it. Despite knowing it would complicate everything, you already felt a certain fondness for the growing life in your tummy. You placed a ginger hand on it, over your shirt, and a smile grew on your face as you pictured yourself with a bloated stomach, little feet kicking at the stretched skin. You imagined both Sam and Dean cooing at their niece or nephew, protecting them from all dangers that might come their way. You could see Castiel trying to figure out how babies worked. You could see yourself getting up in the middle of the night to soothe a crying baby.

It all clicked in your head. There wasn't even a choice to make. You knew you had to keep it. Watch your baby grow up, and hopefully find a way out of the hunter lifestyle before he or she got too old to really be affected by it. You knew Dean and Sam would help you, knew Castiel would too.

With a renewed hope, you started on the trek back to the motel. You were anxious yet nervous to tell your brothers. You knew they would come around eventually, but there was a high risk of Dean yelling and then storming off before that happened.

You didn't realize just how far you'd run before you returned to the motel with aching muscles, a pleasant sort of soreness already settling in.

"Oh thank fucking god," Sam breathed when you opened the door to the motel room.

He was holding something in his hand, but before you could see what it was, Dean was enveloping you in a tight hug. He rocked you back and forth, and confusedly you rocked along, arms wound around his waist. "We were so worried you'd done something stupid," he whispered as he pulled back.

"What?"

Instead of answering, Sam opened his hand, and there, resting in his palm, was your pregnancy test. Your breath rushed out in a gentle, "oh."

It was silent for a few beats, until you couldn't take it anymore. "I'm not getting an abortion. And I won't give him or her up for adoption either."

Both your brothers shoulders sagged in relief. "I was afraid we'd have convince you not to give it up," Sam said.

"Me too," Dean said, eyes flickering to the stick in Sam's hand. "Y'know, Y/N peed on that." Sam squeaked and fumbled with the stick in true infomercial style before dropping it on the carpet.

"Child," you muttered fondly under your breath.

"Who's the father?" Sam asked later, when you were sandwiched in between him and Dean on one of the single beds. They took turns resting a protective hand on your flat stomach as they spoke.

You furrowed your brows, wracking your mind for any information you could come up with, but drawing a blank. "I don't know. He has blue eyes and brown hair, that much I know. I think he was wearing a long, tan coat as well. But the rest is all a haze." Sam and Dean shared an odd look over your head, which you shrugged off. "Was I blackout drunk recently? It's the only explanation I can come up with."

"Or maybe it's another unexplainable happening," Dean said nervously and awfully formal. Sam hissed and reached behind you to smack him.

You were about to ask what was going on, when there was a flutter of wings and Castiel was standing at the foot of the bed. Sam and Dean yelped, and scrambled off the bed to drag him outside. You stared open-mouthed after them, but once they came back in, Castiel was pale and his eyes were open wide as he stared at you openly.

"What's wrong with you guys?" you asked them, pointing an accusing finger at the angel, who seemed about ready to faint.

"We know who the father is."


Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Pro