“Do you think it’s possible that I… might be… pregnant?”
The question threw Wilford off completely. “What? Pregnant?” He asked, confused. “I didn’t think you could… I mean you’ve told me… You know the whole… being… dead thing…” His voice got quieter as he kept speaking.
Dark looked up at her partner and nodded. “I thought that too, Wil but…” She ran a hand over her stomach, which had gained a tiny, barely noticeable bulge. Aside from the small bump, Dark had also been getting sick more. “I think… I think it’s happened. I think I’m pregnant.”
Wilford’s face was a flurry of emotions, but ultimately it rested on quiet joy and serene excitement. He walked over and held Dark from behind. His hands trailed over her stomach, and he closed his eyes. It would be so nice to have a child with her. To be a dad, watch the little kiddo grow up…
“Does this mean you’ll have an increased sex drive?” He asked with mischievous grin.
Dark laughed, her laugh light and reminding Wil of twittering birds. “That never ceasing sexual appetite is what got us into this predicament in the first place!”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.” Wilford laughed and kissed her cheek. “A child…”
“Yes, a child…” She nodded. “Do you… are you okay with being a father?”
“More than okay.” He beamed. “I am so excited. I can’t wait to tell everyone!” And just like that he took off.
Dark, with a found shake of her head, smiled and followed the dolt, her dolt, out of the room, one hand tenderly resting on her stomach.
No one is sure how Host ended up as a child. It baffles everyone, but they decide to just make do until a solution presents itself. The small boy with fluffy, downy wings, is undeniably adorable, Edward decides as he picks Host up to carry him down to the kitchen for lunch.
Host coos and chirps at him, wings flapping in excitement as Edward mentions chicken nuggets for lunch. Edward laughs softly, shutting one eye as one wing flaps upward and smacks the side of his face. “Host, try and control those wings of yours for me?” He requests, smiling as the child blushes and tucks his wings back to his sides. “Sorry Eddie.” The child huffs, and Edward places a gentle kiss on his head.
“It’s alright, Host. You didn’t mean to.” Host bounces back, then, feathers smoothing from where they had puffed up while the child pouted. He grins blindly up at Edward, begin to wriggle excitedly again when they reach the kitchen and he can smell the nuggets. Bim giggles at the sight of the small owl boy in Doc’s arms, watching the doctor settle Host down at the table.
“Who’s ready for some chicken nuggies?” Bim coos, carrying the plate over and dramatically placing it down in front of Host. Host lets out a thrilled screech which is less cute but definitely in tune with the bird of which his wings originate.
The child settles in to eat, and Edward heads off to continue his work covering how to get Host back to normal.
He’s just come in after a flight to clear his mind when he finds the doctor in his library. The man is tired, the Host can tell even without his narrations, but he gives the Host a smile. “I promised to bring you a care kit that would make cleaning your feathers easier.” The doctor explains, pressing a small box into the Host’s hands. Host smiles softly, heart warmed by the fact the doctor had stayed up even longer to make sure the box made its way directly to Host.
“Thank you, Edward.” The Host murmurs, stilling in surprise as a gently hand brings a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away some of the blood that perpetually rests on his cheeks. “Anything for you.” Edward says, and while Host thinks he means to say it almost teasingly it comes across much too serious. And, if Host really turns the words over in his head, the doctor seems sad.
The Host gently takes the doctor’s hand, grip tight but gentle. “Is something on your mind, doctor?” Host asks, narrating softly as the doctor’s heart speeds up. “I- nothing- nothing serious.” The doctor says, and Host knows he’s lying. “Doctor, you can tell the Host anything. We are friends.” “Yes. Yes we- we are I just- I don’t want to- you are- that is to say-” The doctor ducks his head and tries to pull his hand away, the Host knows it’s so he can bring it up to his chest and fidget with the collar of his shirt. He always fidgets with the collar of his shirt with both hands when he’s nervous.
emptynarration 