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14 Stories of Knocked-Up Goalies

Chapter Text

It was an unspoken but ironclad rule that if you wanted a great team, you put an omega in the net.

Sure, occasionally a team would try an alpha or beta, but all the best ones were omegas. It was believed that their natural paternal instincts translated well into keeping pucks out of the net, as they get protective and territorial, especially in the early stages of and right after a pregnancy.

Granted, many of them are on some sort of birth control or others, as pregnancy in the middle of a season tends to be inconvenient, but others don’t take it, as they either don’t have a mate, can’t for medical reasons, or want to become pregnant.

Here then are fourteen stories about goalies during their pregnancies.

Chapter Text

23 Feb 2014

In the end, Carl and Henrik decided ‘fuck Sochi’.

The stress of the Olympics, not helped by the shit Olympic village, and fighting so hard only to end up with a silver medal meant the stress got to Henrik and he went into heat almost as soon as the medal ceremony was over. A week early. And with his contraceptives left at home cause he thought he’d be back before then.

Carl tried to wait, he really did. But Henrik always did look his hottest in the throes of his heat and begging and pleading for Carl to fill him, so he ended up taking him in a closet while the panicked coaches/staff tried to get the rest of the team out before they were affected, getting a hotel room for the two, get their belongings out of the village, and try to procure morning-after pills for Henrik (not an easy thing to do in Russia).

So they ended up missing the closing ceremony altogether (which they were both fine with, really) to sleep together in some hotel room until Henrik’s heat was slaked.

They sighed when it finally died down and got a call from one of the staff members. He had their stuff and would help them get a flight home when they were ready. Unfortunately, they couldn’t find reputable morning-after pills without a prescription, and those they could get were too shady for them to risk.

Carl and Henrik looked at each other after that phone call.

“Well,” Henrik said, “early then?”

They actually were planning on getting pregnant soon. Henrik was getting older, and Carl would be a free agent after the next season, so no guarantee he’d stay with the Rangers, so now was the best time. It was why Henrik had gone off the birth control, to flush it out of his system. They had just planned on trying during the next heat (if they didn’t look like they’d make the playoffs) or the heat after (if they did).

Carl kissed his forehead. “It’s not a guarantee. But if we do, it’s okay.”

Henrik had smiled at that and snuggled in to doze for a bit before they made plans to go home.

-=-=-=-

Of course, he did end up conceiving, and quite a few people, least of all himself, thought they lost the Stanley Cup finals because of it, since he couldn’t be in the net for it.

Not that he’d trade it for anything. He was proud of the little one growing inside him, and he knew Carl was too. After the good-natured ribbing from his teammates, they were supportive too, throwing them a surprise shower and gifting them baby supplies (and tons of tiny Ranger sweaters).

They had the due date narrowed down to sometime mid November.

-=-=-=-=-

11 Nov 2014, Madison Square Garden

Everyone was shocked that Henrik showed up. He was due any day now, and he looked like he was ready to pop!

Carl shrugged. “I tried to stop him, but he wants to be here for his team.”

And Henrik did look fine, chatting with the other teammates, who rubbed his belly for good luck. Mark frowned when it was his turn-it felt harder than usual...but surely Henrik would say something if it was what he thought it was.

0-0-0-0-0

As it turns out, no, Henrik would NOT say something.

Henrik knew he had been in labor since lunchtime. But this was his first child, after all, and first babies tended to take a long time to come. He figured there was plenty of time for him to labor, watch the game, then tell Carl.

Except this baby decided it wanted to be as quick as its father.

Henrik sat in the locker room, counting the time between his contractions. He was trying to keep up with the game and keep the others from figuring out he was in labor, for they’d insist he needs to go to the hospital, and like hell he was leaving without Carl.

His hand was forced when he cried out, doing so because his water broke.

For a moment there was silence.

Then utter chaos.

Someone ran to get the paramedics on site while someone else ran to get Carl. Henrik gritted his teeth as he had another pain. Vaguely he heard the game was delayed because the paramedics were needed for a medical emergency. Carl ran in.

“Henke! What the hell, I would have missed the game if you were in labor!”

“I thought...” he panted, “I thought she would wait.” Carl couldn’t help grinning at that, Henrik was convinced he was having a girl. He reached for Carl’s hand and squeezed as he finally started to feel pressure and started to push.

The paramedics ran in to help him with the delivery. He caught one of them glaring at him and he glared back. It wasn’t like Henrik wanted to give birth at Madison Square Garden in the middle of a game.

(Ok, maybe he did a little.)

By this point Henrik wasn’t aware of much, just the pain and Carl, holding him and trying to soothe him as he pushed. He did remember distinctly yelling that he would rip Carl’s knot off, thankfully in Swedish so no one but him heard. The press would have had a field day with that.

Through it all Carl remained serene in trying to keep him calm. “You can do it Henke, you can. I love you.” Henrik cried out again and dimly head that the head was out. Encouraged, he kept pushing.

“You’ve got this. Just a little more.” Finally he almost had the baby out. “Just one more push.”

If you asked him later Henrik would deny screaming, but he definitely did as his daughter finally came into the world.

As Henrik panted in relief, Carl kissed his forehead. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.” They watched the paramedics tend to their screeching daughter and trying to get her cleaned enough for transport.

“She’s beautiful,” Henrik said through a choked up throat. “We made her?”

“We made her. We’re not naming her Madison though.”

Henrik laughed at that. “Would be a fun story to tell her though. No. Sofia.”The baby was cleaned enough and wrapped in a towel so Henrik could hold her. Sofia yawned and looked at her papas.

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He just looked up at Carl, grinning.

Carl grinned back.

Vaguely he heard that some more paramedics had arrived to take the place of the ones that were now preparing him to go to the hospital so they could resume the game, and he thinks they might have even figured out that he had given birth, but Henrik didn’t care.

Right now Carl and Sofia were his entire world.

Chapter Text

6 July 2018

When Connor woke up to an empty bed he had a brief moment of panic. Then he heard rustling in the kitchen, followed by a pan being set down on the stove top, and he smiled. Ever since Freddie began to show he had been craving bacon constantly. Well, no sense in sleeping right now, anyway, it’s lonely in bed without him.

Connor got up and used the restroom before going to the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway and smiled.

Freddie stood in the kitchen with a look of guilt at being caught. Sure enough, he had made some bacon, but what it topped was new.

“Bacon and ice cream?” Connor said with a smile. Freddie had broken it into pieces and sprinkled it on a few scoops of vanilla ice cream.

Freddie blushed. “Baby wants it.”

Connor just smiled and went to clean the pan while Freddie went to the living room to eat his concoction. He soon joined his lover on the couch, snuggling with him, a hand drifting to the small but growing belly. “You know there’s probably bacon ice cream somewhere.”

Freddie shook his head. “Not the same. She was very insistent it had to be bacon on top of vanilla ice cream.” They already knew they’d have a girl from the ultrasound.

“She’s already got you wrapped around her finger,” Connor teased.

“Like she hasn’t done that to you.”

Connor shrugged, as Freddie was right, after all. He stroked Freddie’s belly. “Are you going to wreak havoc on us, little one?” He kissed Freddie’s cheek as he ate his ice cream.

“Would you have it any other way?”

“I would not. I love our little one already. Just like I love her papa.”

“And I love her dada.” Freddie finished the ice cream and frowned. “I want more.”

“So make more.”

“We’re out of bacon.”

Ah. “Want to come with me to get it, then?”

Freddie nodded vigorously, as Connor expected. Woe to the person that tried to keep Frederik Andersen away from his cravings, as Mitch found out the hard way.

“I’ll help you get your shoes then.”

“I’m not that big yet.”

Chapter Text

19 Mar 2019

They had been chatting in the away locker room when Devan stormed in. They had been so surprised that he would breach their locker room that they didn’t have time to react when he punched Gabe in the face. Then they reacted, pulling Devan away from Gabe.

“What the hell?”

“You got me pregnant, Landeskog!”

Everyone stopped at that, looking from Devan’s furious face to Gabe’s confused one.

“What?”

“I got scratched cause my blood test came back positive for pregnancy!”

Gabe turned red. “You said you were on the pill!” He wouldn’t have worked Devan through his heat otherwise, as Devan liked the bonus spice of a hatefuck turning him on

“No one told me antibiotics make it fail!” Devan wrenched himself away from the Tysons and grabbed Gabe’s sweater, but didn’t make any other moves. “Now I’m going to miss the season because of you...” he said in a downtrodden voice. Gabe felt guilty at the look on Devan’s face, he definitely didn’t plan for this to happen.

Barrie grabbed them both by the elbow and gently shoved them into the supply closet. “You two need to talk, and people will gossip if they see Dubnyk in here.” He shut the door on them, leaving them in there.

Devan was holding his arms close, definitely apprehensive and worried. Gabe tried to break the ice. “Blood test?”

“Random drug testing. No drugs in my system but there were anomalies so they ran full bloodwork, and it came up positive for pregnancy. I wouldn’t have known otherwise, I’m only a month and some in. Haven’t had morning sickness or anything yet.”

“The last game then.” It really was the only time they could have conceived, the last time they slept together was October and surely he would’ve noticed if he was almost five months pregnant. Devan wasn’t stupid. Unlike SOME Avs goalies.

“Yeah. I...you don’t have to do anything. I’m...I’m going to keep it but I’ll raise it alone if I have to.”

“No, I was there too. I was the one you punched before we started making out.” Devan smiled at that memory. “I want to help, if I can.” Gabe scooted closer and touched Devan’s shoulder. “I AM sorry this happened. I should’ve taken extra protection too.”

“Yeah.” He looked at Gabe. “I’m sorry too, it’s not fair to you to suffer from my mistake.”

“No one is suffering, Devan. We’re going to be the best damn papas to this little one as we can be. He’ll be the best little Avalanche we can ever ask for.”

“Fuck you, he’s going to be a Wild!” But Devan grinned as he said it.

Chapter Text

12 March 2010

He was pretty sure Sid was the one screaming at this point. Good. Sid deserved to have his hand broken.

“Just one more push, you can do it papa!” Marc-Andre heard the doctor say, and one more push he gave it as, nine months to the day from when they won the Stanley Cup, their son was born.

(Marc swears that was a coincidence. He was actually supposed to go into heat in between Games 6 and 7 but it didn’t come until a couple days after Game 7, presumably the stress delayed it.)

“Oh Flower...” Sid said in a teary voice as the doctor held up their son. He flexed his hand, which was definitely bruised but doesn’t appear to be broken. “You did it.”

Marc reached out for his son while Sid was offered and cut the cord. “Alain...” he murmured, kissing the baby’s forehead. They had settled on that name when they found out it was a boy-Alain Mario Fleury. Marc held him for a few minutes before the nurses took him away so papa and baby could get cleaned. It already hurt Marc’s and Sidney’s hearts to hear Alain wail at being taken away.

Marc took the time to doze while Sidney went to make sure his hand was fine-while the team would no doubt be amused if he got his hand broken, it’d be bad for their playoff chances.

Soon the baby was brought back and placed in Marc’s arms. Marc teared up and kissed him. “You’re beautiful Alain. You look just like Sid.” He heard Sidney come in and settle in next to them. “How’s my two favorite men in the world?” He asked, kissing Marc’s forehead.

“Tired. He’s been napping since he came back. Would you like to hold him?”

Sidney eagerly nodded. Gently they transferred Alain to Sidney’s arms.

“Oh Flower. He’s beautiful.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Marc smiled at his lover. “

“I haven’t told anyone he’s here yet. I wanted it to be just us a few minutes longer. Oh! Look at you yawn, Alain.” Marc couldn’t help giggling at how Sidney turned into a puddle of goo around his son.

“How’s your hand?”

“Sore and bruised but not broken. I’ll probably be scratched a game or two. They’ll understand when they see this cute face.”

Gingerly Marc reached for his phone so they could tell his and Sidney’s parents that their grandson was here before they announced it to the world.

Chapter Text

4 March 2001

Scott didn’t get it. They were made by the same company, used the same ingredients, looked...okay, similar, and tasted the same. Literally the only difference is that one was shaped differently from the other. But no. Marty insisted that it had to be dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets he needed at seven in the morning. Regular chicken nuggets would just not do.

Scott went to pick up the paper as he entered their house. He was alarmed when he heard moaning, and nearly dropped both paper and nuggets to get to Marty. It was only when he heard Marty moan “oh, Scott...” did he get it. He smiled and went to put the nuggets away first.

Ever since Martin had started to show his libido had doubled. Scott didn’t know how he kept up, and was just glad Marty was still cleared to fly with them to away games-if they had to rely on phone sex they’d have died of frustration.

As soon as the nuggets were in the freezer Scott took the paper and headed to the bedroom. He tiptoed to the door and peeked it open.

Marty was moaning and thrashing, pressing himself against a pillow. He was getting to the point where touching himself was starting to be difficult, so he avoided it when he could.. and really, why would he when Scott could touch him instead?

Scott went in. Marty opened his eyes to half mast, gazing at Scott. “Scott...” he moaned. “Touch me...”

Well, Scott needed no further invitation, undressing and joining his partner on the bed. He kissed Marty, a hand going down to stroke his bump at first, then his prick.

“Needed you as soon as you left,” Marty groaned.

“I see that.” He kissed down Marty’s body. “How badly?”

“I need you inside me already!”

“Patience,” he said, clearly enjoying teasing his goalie. One hand went to stroke his cock while the other traveled further down to tease Marty’s entrance. Marty slammed his head back against the pillow, moaning again. “Already wet for me?” Marty just glared at him. Scott just kissed him again, finally putting him out of his misery and gently pushing inside him.

“I’m pregnant, not fragile,” Marty muttered, wrapping his legs around Scott and pushing him further in.

“But the...”

“The baby will be fine. The doctor said so. Fuck me, already!”

Scott couldn’t hold back and began fucking Marty as hard as he begged for. Marty always did look his best begging for Scott’s knot, and that hadn’t changed even with him already knocked up.

Scott did miss being able to kiss Marty during sex, but the bump would get in the way. Marty used his strength to turn them so Scott was on his back, Marty bobbing up and down on his cock. Scott was fine with this, it freed him up to get Marty off. He stroked Marty’s already leaking prick.

“God, Marty,” he moaned. “You still feel so good.”

Marty was just moaning again, going faster as he got close. Scott could feel his knot start to swell and sped his hand up, finally getting Marty to come. Having done that, he could feel himself swell up and gripped Marty’s hips, bucking up once or twice before he started coming inside Marty.

He caressed Marty’s belly while they waited for the knot to die down, then Scott pulled out and gently lied Marty on the bed.

Marty kissed Scott lazily, smiling. “Thank you.”

“For what? A good lay?” he teased.

“That too. For being there. For loving me. For putting the baby inside me.”

Scott hummed and nuzzled Marty. After the Stanley Cup win Marty had a quarter life crisis and realized he was getting older and wanted a baby. It took them a couple tries but he was ecstatic when he got the positive test. Sure, he was missing the rest of the season because of it, but surely the team would be fine without him, right?

“Now. About those nuggets.”

Scott chuckled and got out of bed. He tossed the paper to Marty to entertain himself while he made those nuggets.

When he got back, he frowned at the look on Marty’s face-a mix of shock, horror and anger. What in the sports section could cause THAT?

“Marty?”

“Look at this!” He angrily thrusted the paper at Scott, exchanging it for the nuggets and angrily scarfing them down. Scott scanned the page. When he saw one name stand out, he rolled his eyes.

“Marty, you’ve got to get over your hate boner for him.”

“Read the headline!”

He did. His eyes widened. “How, he was...”

“Keep reading.”

Scott looked at the article. “HOW?”

“I know! How could he be so stupid?!”

Chapter Text

19 Dec 2018

Well, the timing could be better, he had thought.

Still, Tuukka’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the positive on the test.

He and Zdeno hadn’t been trying for a baby but they hadn’t been NOT trying either, so this was a bit unexpected. Certainly welcome though. If he can think of a way to tell Z.

Not that he’d think Z would take it bad, but….well, how DO you tell the love of your life that your lives are about to change forever?

He went to go take a walk and get some food for the two of them. Z was resting after a little more therapy: if all goes well, he could start playing again after the new year. Just in time for Tuukka to put in for paternity leave.

He couldn’t help smiling as he realized he had a hand on his still flat stomach. Still was blowing his mind that there was a new life growing inside him. He has started to suspect as much when he started to get sick a lot, so much he got scratched from the last game. And he certainly had felt more run down lately. He was mostly just embarrassed it took him this long to think of pregnancy.

Which brings him back to his dilemma-how to tell him?

He stopped and looked in the window at a display and went in.

0-0-00-0

He got them Chinese. It was one of the few things that didn’t trigger his morning sickness.

Zdeno was waking up from a nap when Tuukka came in with the food. He tried to get up.

“No, no, stay resting,” Tuukka said, making sure the gift bag he also had was hidden behind the food. He hid it behind his chair and put the food on the coffee table.

They sat next to each other while watching tv, cozily enjoying the quiet. It was only after dinner was mostly gone that Tuukka reached around for the bag.

“I got you an early Christmas present.”

Z smiled. “Really? Why early?”

“This was something I didn’t want to wait on.” He placed it in Zdeno’s lap.

Pleasantly surprised, Z removed the tissue paper and reached in. He got a puzzled look on his face as he pulled out a tiny knit winter cap. “It’s pretty, Tuukka...but I don’t get it.” Tuukka didn’t say anything, wanting him to figure it out. “It’s too small for me...or for you...the only person it’d look like it’d fit is a ba….” Zdeno paused and his eyes widened. He looked at the hat. Then to Tuukka. Then the hat again. Then Tuukka again. “Are you?” Tuukka nodded. “A baby?” Tuukka nodded.

In his haste to hug Tuukka he didn’t even notice he dropped the hat in the mu shu pork. Tuukka giggled. “I’ll need to see a doctor to make sure I'm okay, I just figured it out this morning.”

“And then we tell the team?”

“At least the bosses since I’ll need to be on IR. The rest can wait till I start to show.”

“Show...” Z said in a dreamy voice. “You’re going to show with my baby.”

“I am, Z.”

“We’re gonna be papas.”

“I know.” He reached out to pluck the now-dirty hat out of the food. “I love you so much.”

“I love YOU. And our little one.”

“And our little one.”

Chapter Text

4 Aug 2011

When Roberto told them he was expecting they were mildly surprised. They had discussed the idea of kids, and certainly the heat they worked him through (Henrik and Daniel had a system, they took turns fucking him while the other got food) was very thorough, but they didn’t expect him to get pregnant the first try.

When he said they were having twins, they were more surprised than they ought to be, really. Whichever one of them actually got him pregnant, they were still twins and therefore it wasn’t unlikely they’d give their omega twins too.

Officially it was Henrik Roberto was with, so officially it was Henrik who was the father of Roberto’s twins. It was an open secret among the Canucks though that Henrik and Daniel shared Roberto, as they both loved him and he loved them both. (Definitely no threesomes though. Henrik and Daniel are emphatically NOT into each other, that’s gross.) And since genetically Henrik and Daniel were identical, no one would really be the wiser if the twins were Daniel’s instead.

The three of them were excited to be having twins. Had.

Roberto was kinda over his pregnancy at this point. Even walking to the bathroom tired him out these days, and he had to do that a LOT since the twins liked punching his bladder. He whined as he settled back down on the couch.

Daniel heard the whine and came out while Henrik finished dinner. “Lu?”

“I’m fine,” he said tiredly. “Just ready to pop.”

Daniel sat down with Roberto. “My poor baby.” He noticed that Roberto’s ankles were swollen again. He picked up Roberto’s feet and put him in his lap, starting to rub them.

Roberto moaned happily. “That feels so good.”

“I’m glad.” He kept rubbing them. “After dinner I’ll do it again, and Henrik will rub your back.”

“You two treat me like a king.”

“Cause we love you Lu. And our babies.”

“We do,” Henrik said, bringing out the spaghetti. They always spent time reassuring their goalie that they still loved him, knowing his self-esteem was in the toilet after getting so big.

After eating dinner, Henrik helped Roberto to his feet and to the bigger bedroom while Daniel did the dishes. Roberto was already shirtless (the pregnancy made his chest more sensitive, so he only bothered with a shirt when absolutely necessary) so he just sat on the edge of the bed while Henrik got behind him and began to rub at the small of his back.

He was almost embarrassed at how LOUD he moaned when Henrik went to work. Behind him Henrik just smiled as Daniel came in and sat on the floor to go back to Roberto’s feet.

Now Roberto WAS embarrassed by how loud he moaned. “Our omega feels so good,” he could hear Henrik tell Daniel. “We spoil him.”

“Well, he deserves to be spoiled. He works so hard to be our goalie, and now he works so hard to grow our babies. We love him so much.”

Roberto leaned against Henrik. “I love you both, so so much.” Henrik kissed his cheek and Daniel got up to kiss his other cheek. Roberto yawned.

“Are you ready for bed?” Roberto nodded. “Me or Dan?” “Both?” It was rare that he asked both of them to sleep in the bed with him, but it happened more frequently the closer he got to his due date.

They nodded and began to get ready, settling in, Henrik on one side of Roberto, Daniel on the other.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

Chapter Text

28 Jan 2018

Because Ben was so tall, and the baby had implanted herself further back, despite the fact that he was eight months pregnant he only looked like he was starting to show. If Ben hadn’t been genre savvy enough to get a pregnancy test when he started to have morning sickness he might have missed it altogether until he was way further along.

“At least you found out BEFORE the baby was born!” Jamie had joked, which earned him chuckles from some, horrified grimaces from others, and straight up glares from the few Avalanche players attending the baby shower/All Star Game party. (It was STILL a sore subject with the Avs.)

Marc announced that the All Star finals were starting, and everyone stopped doing shower related activities to watch that instead. Hey, they were hockey players first.

Ben didn’t mind. He relaxed in his chair, feeling his stomach. Elisabeth (they had settled on that name for their baby) hadn’t stopped kicking since they surprised him with this shower. Jason came over, worried about his mate, of course.

“You okay?”

Ben smiled. “Of course. She’s just upset she’s no longer the center of attention.” He pulled Jason’s hand toward the kicking.

Jason teared up, as he always did when he felt his daughter kicking. “It’s still amazing.” He looked to see if anyone was looking, then got on his knees so he could rest his cheek against Ben’s stomach. “In one month our daughter will be here.”

“Yeah.” He stroked Jason’s hair, not caring who saw (and knowing they were too absorbed in the game to notice anyway). “You’ll be dada and I’ll be papa.”

Jason nodded, content to let Elisabeth kick his cheek. “Thank you Ben,” he murmured.

“You made this baby too,” he teased gently.

“But you’re the one doing all the hard work, carrying it, going on IR for it, putting your career on hold for it.”

Ben smiled. “I wanted to. I loved her the minute I saw her squirming inside my belly. And why wouldn’t I want to show the world how much I love you?”

Jason teared up. “You know, I thought you were supposed to be the emotional one.”

Ben chuckled. He heard cheers and groans from the tv area. “We’re missing the game.”

“I’m fine right here.”

Chapter Text

7 April 2003

Dominik hadn’t told Steve he was in labor.

Yes, he knows Steve had been fretting ever since he told him he was pregnant, since he was rather old for it, but-as he loves pointing out-he wasn’t THAT old, and at least he took it easy unlike some goalies (and he was technically retired anyway so shut up). Steve would just point out that the situations weren’t the same and he knew it. And then he’d go back to hovering over Dominik.

Which, to be fair, he did like the hovering, it’s just that it can grate. He can take care of himself.

Just like now. He leaned against the dresser and breathed through the pain. The contractions were still pretty far apart, and they’d just send him home until they got closer. Dominik wanted to wait as long as he could. This was probably the only baby he’d have, he wanted to make it last, pain and all.

He rubbed his belly and went to run a bath. He only had so long before Steve figured it out and inevitably panicked. He sat in it and relaxed as much as he could.

At least the baby decided to come before the playoffs. Dominik dozed slightly in the water as he thought to the task ahead. He hadn’t wanted to know what they were having (‘the nursery’s going to be in red and white anyway, so who cares?’ he had said) so they each had picked a boy name and girl name, to be decided when the baby was born. He thought perhaps Alexandr or Lucie, and Steve thought Eli or Rachel.

Dominik’s thoughts were interrupted by another contraction, and he gripped the edge of the tub while riding it out. He was glad Steve was running last minute errands so he didn’t hear him yet.

As he slowly got out and drained the water, he rubbed his belly again and thought. He had a feeling that the baby would end up being an Eli. Maybe he could talk Steve into Alexandr as a middle name, they do that in Canada, right? He dressed and moved to the kitchen, just in time for Steve to come back.

Steve came over to kiss Dominik. “How are my favorite people?”

“Good.” He watched Steve as he put things away. Some would say they had moved too fast, having only been teammates for one year before sleeping together right after winning the Cup, and then sharing a heat together a few months later, but they would shrug and say they just clicked. Dominik certainly had no regrets and neither did Steve.

The next contraction caught Dominik by surprise and he gasped aloud. Steve dropped the food he had been putting away and ran to Dominik.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?”

Dominik waved his hand. “Just contractions.”

Just contractions? Are you in labor?!”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re clearly not fine!” Steve said in a panic. “You’re in labor! The baby’s coming!”

“And they’re still ten minutes apart. The doctor doesn’t want me coming in until they’re five. I’ve been fine all day.”

“You’ve been in labor ALL DAY?!”

“Yes, Steve.” He smiled. “I’m okay. Really.”

Steve still looked worried. “If you say so.” He tried to relax with Dominik. “So this is it, huh? We’re having a baby soon.”

“Nervous?”

“Of course I am. Fatherhood is a scary thought.”

“It is.” Dominik cuddled with Steve. “I don’t think I could have done it alone. But together we can do it.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah. Together.”

Dominik moaned with another pain. Steve rubbed his back during it.

“Closer.”

“I’m sorry. You’ve been suffering all day and I never knew.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m going to worry anyway. That’s part of being your mate and being this baby’s father.”

“It is. I worry about you, and you’re not even pregnant.”

Steve giggled. “Can you imagine?”

“Maybe in some other life I was the alpha and you were the omega.”

“And we’d still worry about each other.”

“Because we love each other. Aaaaah!” Dominik clutched his belly as he had his worst contraction yet.

Steve rubbed his back again. “Is it time?”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

Steve got up and helped Dominik up so they could go to the hospital.

Chapter Text

14 January 2019

Funny, the rest of the team seemed more excited when Pekka announced he was pregnant than Roman himself did. Realistically, Pekka knew that wasn’t true, Roman was ecstatic to become a father, it’s just that the rest of the team is LOUD.

Pekka had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and promised to stop by the arena after it. Roman did worry so. Pekka couldn’t wait, really. Roman hadn’t noticed cause he had gotten home so late, and then left early for practice (and certainly that Pekka kept himself wrapped up with the comforters didn’t help), but he was starting to show. Already his t-shirts were tight on him. Everyone would be so excited.

He drove to the arena, smiling. He had good news for Roman.

He quietly entered the locker room and waited for someone to notice him. Juuse was the first one to do so, and he gasped in shock and delight. That got the other teammates’ attention, and they all gasped as well, finally getting Roman’s attention.

“What is going...” he dropped his stick in shock.

Pekka blushed and smiled shyly. He moved a hand to his bump. “Hi, Roman.”

He looked starstruck and Pekka wished he got a picture. He was pretty sure Ryan did.

The rest of the team discreetly left for the ice so Roman and Pekka could have a moment to themselves.

Roman couldn’t take his eyes off the bump. He reached a hand out, but hesitated, as if it would disappear if it was touched.

“You can touch it,” Pekka said softly.

“Wow.” He touched it. “It feels so much more REAL now. I mean, I knew we were having a baby but it didn’t feel real till now.”

“It’s real. We’re having a baby. We’re having a baby girl.”

“A girl?” Roman grinned.

“A girl.” Pekka’s hand covered Roman’s.”Our girl.”

“Pekka.” He pulled Pekka closer, feeling his bump press against Roman’s stomach. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too.” He kissed Roman.

“I wish we didn’t have practice, I’d love to take you home and show how much I love you.”

Pekka shivered at that. “Don’t tempt me, or we’ll do it in that supply closet.”

Roman looked like he was considering it.

Pekka blushed.

0-0-0-0-0

The team chirped the two of them when they came out to the ice with messy hair. Pekka sat in the bench while Roman practiced.

Everyone rubbed his bump for good luck.

Chapter Text

23 November 2017

Once was an anomaly. Twice is a pattern.

That was what was going through Milan’s head as he rubbed Cam’s back while the goalie threw up. This was the second morning in a row he had ran to the bathroom as soon as he woke up. Yesterday he thought he had just gotten food poisoning from the Chinese they ate last night. Milan had accepted that answer but secretly had thought that he had felt fine. Cam had been better by nighttime, yet here he was again, worshiping the toilet.

Milan sighed. They both were a bit in denial, yes, but for Cam’s sake he had to suggest it.

“Cam, do you think it’s morning sickness?”

He didn’t even know Cam could get paler than he already was. “No, that’s impossible...we were careful...weren’t we?”

Even as he said it, he knew what happened. Because Cam had bad reactions to birth control they had to make do with condoms during heats. The very last condom they used during the last heat ended up breaking. They HAD considered getting a morning after pill, but then...they had just forgotten. Cam was decompressing after his heat and Milan was making a late lunch. So he never took it, and now they were paying for it.

Cam rested his head against the toilet. “Fuck.”

Milan felt guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Cam sank against the wall. “What if I am?”

Milan swallowed. “Well….it is your choice, ultimately. It’d be you that have to take IR if you...want to keep it.”

Cam curled up. “I don’t know.” He counted on his fingers how long it was since his heat. He curled up again. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want children.”

Milan scooted closer so he could hold Cam. “I don’t know either. But I think first we should know for sure.” He got up to go to the drugstore. “You rest.”

Cam nodded and headed to bed, where he lied down to think. Pregnant? Him? He ran a hand across his stomach. Would he even make a good father? Could he really...get rid of it? Milan said it was his choice, but what if he resented Cam for suggesting abortion? But would Cam resent it the rest of his life if he kept the baby?

He daydreamed. He could see it now, a little boy the spitting image of Milan asking papa if he could be a goalie like him someday. Then he thought of all the sleepless nights they would have trying to take care of a baby. He remembered when Henrik had come back from having Sofia, it took him a while to get back to shape. He still hadn’t gotten rid of the rings under his eyes when Cam got traded to the Oilers.

But then again he remember just how adorable Sofia was and he had felt a yearning he couldn’t-or chose not to-identify. And he was getting older. This could be his only chance unless he wanted an advanced paternal age pregnancy like Hašek or Roy (and thank god he wasn’t fucking Roy).

Cam sat up when he heard Milan come back. His hand was still on his stomach. Milan had froze when he saw it.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Um...I got three, so we could be sure.”

“That’s good. I want to be sure before we decide anything. But...I kind of hope we are.”

Milan smiled shyly. “Yeah….me too.”

A half hour and three tests later, they knew they were.

Chapter Text

13 October 2018

“You get over here so I can kill you.”

Adam whimpered but got closer, knowing it’d be worse for him if he didn’t, and knowing (or at least hoping) that ninety percent of that was just the pain of the contractions talking.

In his defense, he had asked if Connor was absolutely sure he wanted a natural birth when he was admitted to the hospital.

“I can handle it,” he said. Well, apparently not. Alas, it was too late. Connor’s water had already broken and the medical staff were setting up because Connor was ready to push.

Connor gripped Adam’s hand and yelped in pain as the doctor got between his legs. “All right, it’s go time Connor!” Connor began to push, gripping Adam’s hand.

Adam bit back his own yelp. Damn, Connor had a grip!

Connor moaned in pain but kept glaring at Adam. As far as he was concerned this was his fault.

“That was good Connor. Another one like that.”

Connor pushed again, squeezing Adam’s hand again. Adam did yelp at that one, he was pretty sure something was on the verge of breaking.

“Oh, am I hurting you?!” Connor yelled. “Not as much as you’re hurting me right now!”

“I’m sorry!” Adam pleaded.

“Worry about killing daddy later, Connor, let’s get this baby out.”

Connor pushed again. And kept pushing for about an hour until the doctor announced he could see the baby’s head.

“About damn time!” he said. He kept pushing.

By now Adam was mostly desensitized to the pain in his hand. Connor cried out again, groaning.

“Good, good, you’re starting to crown! Do you want to see, Adam?”

Adam went to look. He paled considerably.

“Adam?” Connor was now actually scared.

Adam’s hand slipped out of Connor’s as he fainted.

“Adam!”

“We’ll take care of him, keep pushing!”

Connor whimpered-not wanting to give birth without Adam beside him-but kept going. A nurse tended to Adam to try to revive him.

He pushed again, slowly getting the head out. Adam moaned as his eyes opened.

“Wha...what happened?”

“Adam!”

Adam shot up. “Connor!” He went back to Connor’s side. “Connor I’m so sorry!”

Connor couldn’t help smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He moaned and pushed again.

“The head’s out!”

Adam took Connor’s hand again and scooted as close to Connor as possible. “I never want to see that again.”

Connor giggled and pushed again, working on the shoulders. He did cry out again, squeezing Adam’s hand. Adam didn’t say anything at all now, even though Connor squeezed harder than ever.

“One more push!”

Connor cried out and pushed one more time. They both heard the crack in Adam’s hand, right before they heard a baby crying.

Adam teared up, though whether it was from the pain or from the baby.

“It’s a boy!”

“A boy...” Connor leaned back against the bed, exhausted but happy.

“We have a son, Connor.”

Connor looked down and looked guilty. “And I broke your hand.”

Adam looked sheepish and tried to hide it. “Well...makes us even for you having to go through labor?”

“Why don’t you go get that looked at,” the doctor said softly, “while we finish here.” They still needed to get the afterbirth out, and the baby was getting weighed.

Adam nodded, but first kissed Connor on the forehead. “I’ll be back. I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you.”

“Me too. When we get back we’ll name him.”

Chapter Text

11 May 1989

Ron had barely opened the door when Chris decked him. Having not expected it, he fell on his butt.

“How the fuck did you find out where I live?!”

Chris glared. “Seabrooke will do anything if you suck his cock.” He tried to get in.

Ron shot up and tried to shove Chris out. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“Fuck you, we’ve got unfinished business!” He pushed in and swung at Ron again.

Ron growled and swung back. They made a mess of Ron’s living room trying to wrestle with each other. Through the whole fight, Chris felt some sort of unease. Not like he was losing this fight, cause he definitely wasn’t, no matter what Ron might think. No, he had the feeling this was becoming something else.

He groaned when he ended up on his back. Ron was straddling him, pinning his arms down. “Really,” he growled, leaning in. “You shouldn’t be here.”

It was only then that Chris smelled the pheromones in the air and saw how Ron’s pupils were starting to get blown. Chris’s eyes widened.

Everyone had thought Ron was one of the few alpha goalies. He sure as hell acted like it.

“You’re….you’re an omega?” He was starting to notice that the pheromones were doing their job and he was starting to get hard.

“Yeah, I am. What are you going to do about it?” Ron said, pressing down.

Chris bucked up and moaned before he could stop himself.

Ron moaned back and pinned Chris back down again, kissing him.

It took a second but Chris got his senses back enough to push Ron off of him.

“We shouldn’t! You’re not in your right mind! And what the fuck were you doing playing so close to your heat anyway?”

Ron’s eyes gleamed. “I didn’t. It was supposed to be next week. But that fight got me so riled up it came early. So I repeat. What are you going to do about it?”

Oh fuck why did that turn him on.

Ron got closer and he backed up a little, back of the knees hitting the couch. Ron pushed him onto the couch and straddled him again. Chris moaned and wrapped his arms around Ron, kissing him.

Ron kissed back, breaking it off long enough to take off his shirt.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me to have hatesex with you through your heat.”

“Shut up and take off your pants.”

Chris did so as Ron stood up to take his pants off, crawling back onto Chris’s lap. He moaned when he could feel Ron’s already wet entrance. “You don’t fuck around during your heats, do you?”

Ron didn’t answer verbally, just went ahead and sunk himself down on Chris’s cock.

Chris gasped and bucked up, which just made Ron moan.

Chris gasped and grabbed Ron’s hips, thrusting up. “Oh yeah, fucking hell,” Ron was saying, gripping the back of the couch for balance.

Yeah. Definitely the most alpha-acting omega he ever knew, Chris thought. Definitely hot, though, as he kept bucking up. Already he could feel his knot forming for the first time. Ron moaned again, his free hand snaking down to his cock as Chris kept thrusting, finally starting to come inside him. Ron finished and came over Chris’s chest as the knot held him in place.

Barely had the knot died down before Ron pulled himself off. He headed to the bedroom. Chris wondered if he should excuse himself while he could when Ron looked over his shoulder. “You coming or what?”

Chris got up and followed him to the bedroom.

0-0-0-0

After the heat had passed Chris hastily dressed. He already had to call the team and tell them he’d wouldn't be leaving with the team due to an emergency and he couldn’t dawdle much longer.

Ron scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to stay asleep, as Chris wasn’t being very quiet about it. “Will you fuck off already,” he had whined.

Chris just snorted, stole an apple from him as payment, and left.

As he munched on it while hailing a taxi to his hotel room to get his stuff, he had the nagging suspicion both he and Ron had forgotten something. He shook his head to try to stay awake. Whatever it was, he’s probably not going to remember and even if he did, he had no way to reach Ron. So it was probably best forgotten.

0-0-0-0

He remembered what it was when the Flyers announced Ron Hextall would be on IR due to pregnancy during the preseason.

And two months later a visibly six months pregnant Ron punched him again the moment he stepped into The Spectrum.

The media had a field day.

Chapter Text

27 May 2000

It was more a friends with benefits thing-something they do when they need to let off some steam after a really good or really bad game.

Losing the Conference finals in Game 7 sure as fuck counted as a ‘bad game’.

Joe had Patrick pinned to the wall of the hotel room as they sloppily kissed. Patrick was still quite limber, and soon enough his legs were wrapped around Joe’s body as the captain pushed into his goalie.

Faster Joe went, needing release, while Patrick held onto Joe’s shoulders and nipped at his neck.

They were both so into the sex that neither of them noticed the subtle change in the air. Not that they would have even if they weren’t fucking. Patrick had had such irregular heats even in the prime of his life, and they’ve only gotten more infrequent ever since he turned thirty. And his pheromones were weaker compared to most omegas.

So neither of them noticed that Patrick had been in heat.

0–0-0-0-0

19 July 2000

Patrick yawned as he came back from his run. He had felt rather lazy this offseason. Not on purpose, just that he was fatigued easily these days. Maybe his age was catching up to him.

He went to the kitchen to get something to drink. He had settled on orange juice, but when he put the jug to his mouth and tasted it, it was so off putting to him that he dropped the jug, clapping a hand to his mouth. He ran for the sink and retched.

That was weird. Did the oj go off? He looked at the now spilled juice on the floor. He’ll have to clean that up.

0-0-0-0-0-

22 September 2000

“Want some orange juice?” Peter had asked as they were getting food. The team were having breakfast together as a bonding exercise before the season began.

Patrick could feel himself turn green just at the thought. “No thanks.” After that incident a couple months ago he found he just couldn’t stomach the idea of orange juice. He looked up and saw Joe come into the room.

Patrick looked away. He hadn’t realized he missed Joe this much, not if he’s feeling a yearning for him he hadn’t felt for...well, anyone really. He’s getting soft. He just finished his breakfast and went to check over his equipment.

Soon everyone was getting ready for practice drills and such. Patrick’s stomach was churning. Ugh, he ate something that didn’t agree with him, clearly. He tried to ignore it and kept blocking shots the others lobbed at him until he realized that he needed to throw up.

Now.

Patrick hastily skated off to the bench, much to the confusion of everyone, frantically trying to get his helmet off. Joe skated over to try to see what was wrong.

Patrick got it off in time and leaned over the bench, throwing up in it.

Alarmed, Joe rubbed his back. “Are you okay?”

Patrick panted. “I think there was something spoiled at the breakfast.”

Joe looked over his shoulder at the rest of the team. “No one else is getting sick...”

Patrick just hurled again.

Joe kept rubbing his back. He felt like he should be doing more for him. He wasn’t sure why. “Maybe you should take a sick day, Patrick.”

Patrick wiped his mouth. “Yeah. It’s still offseason, it won’t affect anything if I miss a day.” He began to head down the tunnel.

Joe watched him leave. He’d like to have followed him. He shook his head. He’s being ridiculous, it’s not like they were mates.

0-0-0-0-0-0

26 October 2000

Peter shook Patrick’s foot, waking him up. “I know you’re not expecting to play tonight, but you’re making the rest of us look bad.”

Patrick blinked, rubbing his eyes. “Did I fall asleep?” he asked. “I didn’t realize I was that tired.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, going back to changing. Joe frowned. Patrick seemed a lot more tired lately, at least off the ice, on it he was playing possibly the best goaltending of his career.

“You all right?” he asked Patrick.

“Yeah.” And he was. Well. He was hungry again. He’d been hungry a LOT lately, especially for Granny Smith apples.

He stood. “I’m going to get a snack, anyone want anything?”

Some of the others shouted their requests and Patrick took them down.

He came back with all of the requests, and a small bag of apples.

“Ooh, you got us apples too?” Alex said, reaching for them.

“You can have one. The rest are mine.”

“All those apples? Can you eat them all?”

“Watch me.”

And he did.

0-0-0-0-0

7 November 2000

Dowd was trying to score and the Avs were skating hard to try to stop him. Patrick was already ready to deflect the puck.

Then Dowd overdid his skate and ran right into Patrick.

Joe got to him first and socked him in the face before he knew what he was doing.

Dowd punched back and soon they were fighting. Most of the other players stared in shock. Joe never fought.

Meanwhile, Ray was helping Patrick up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Is Joe fighting?”

“Yeah.”

“Cause I got run over?”

“I guess.”

That was rather out of character for him, but damned if Patrick didn’t appreciate it. He was glad the goalie mask his his flush as he watched the linesmen pull them apart. Dowd got a penalty for interference, Joe for instigating, and both for fighting.

As they both went to the penalty boxes Dowd yelled “what the hell Sakic! It was a fucking accident!”

Which, logically, Joe knew, but something had snapped when he saw Patrick down on the ground. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

Goddamnit, he did what he shouldn’t and fell in love with his goalie, didn’t he.

When they headed to the locker room for intermission, Patrick gently tapped Joe with his stick as thanks.

Joe smiled back a the happy gleam in Patrick’s eyes.

Between that and Patrick getting a shutout, it was no wonder they had sex that night.

0-0-0-0

15 November 2000

A shutout (his second of the season) always got Patrick in the mood.

Well, to be fair, these days it wasn’t hard to get him in the mood. Post game sex was becoming a regular thing between Joe and Patrick now. Patrick couldn’t help it. It seems like lately all Joe had to do was look at him and Patrick would get turned on.

Joe wasn’t about to complain, he’s a guy, he likes sex, but the more they slept together the more he felt he needed to...protect Patrick? That was what he thought he felt. He felt the need to protect him and he was pretty sure he was falling for him. This was stupid. Patrick wasn’t like other omegas. He didn’t need someone to protect him, he thought. Besides, Patrick was older than him.

He cried out in surprise when Patrick pinned him to the bed, but it was soon swallowed by Patrick thrusting his tongue down Joe’s throat, and he let himself go long enough for sex.

Patrick sank himself down onto Joe’s cock, moaning Joe’s name. Joe gripped his hips, thrusting up. Already he could feel his knot forming. He kept to moaning Patrick’s name, being careful not to say anything more as he climaxed inside the goalie.

They were in Joe’s hotel room this time. Patrick had pulled off of him as soon as the knot died down, and had been reaching for his jeans when Joe grabbed his wrist.

“Stay?”

Patrick looked at him. “Okay.” He crawled back into bed and snuggled close to Joe.

This felt right.

0-0-0-0-0

Despite the fact that he napped often lately, Patrick had to admit the best sleep he had gotten was while he was held by the alpha captain. He tried to snuggle closer. He was getting sentimental in his old age, he thought. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to think of the implications of staying the night with Joe.

Alas, he was waking up too. They stared at each other for a while before Joe decided to be brave
and kiss Patrick on the forehead.

Patrick smirked. “What was that for?”

“Felt right,” Joe mumbled, embarrassed.

“It did,” Patrick said, before he could stop himself. They looked at each other. “What does this mean for us?”

“Maybe we could...actually date?”

“Are you sure you want someone like me? Old, surly, will probably slash anyone who looks at you funny, probably can’t even give you children?”

“You’re not THAT old, I like your surliness, I punched a guy for you, and I don’t care if we have kids or not. You’re more than just an omega, Patty. You’re my omega. You think I’d do this to David or Peter or Adam?”

“I’d have to question your taste in men if you did.”

Joe snorted at that.

“We can try. But let’s not say anything to the team until we know it’ll work out.” Patrick got out of bed. “I do need to go though, my stuff’s still in my room.”

0-0–0-0-0-0

23 December 2000

“Apples again?” Peter said. “Patrick you’ll turn into an apple at this rate.”

“Fuck you, Forsberg!”

Peter looked taken aback. “Sorry….I didn’t...”

Patrick huffed and turned his back to Peter, focusing on his skates.

Joe looked between the two omegas in confusion. “What’s going on here?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “I just made a comment about the apples he’s eating and he snapped at me. I didn’t mean anything by it...”

Joe sighed. “You go lead the drills for now. I’ll talk with him.” Peter nodded and herded the rest of the team onto the ice.

Joe was stunned to see tears in Patrick’s eyes. “Pat-”

“He had no right! I’ll eat what I want! And I’m NOT turning into an apple!”

“Patty, he was just chirping you.”

“Well, I didn’t appreciate it!” He sulked.

Joe frowned and reached up to wipe a tear that threatened to fall away. “Patrick, this isn’t like you. What’s really wrong?”

Partick sighed. “I’m gaining weight, and that just got me thinking about how I’m getting older...and how I’m not sure how much longer I can do this. I’m not ready to say goodbye to hockey...or you.”

“Patrick Jacques Roy, do you really think I’d dump you as soon as you retired?” Joe looked hurt.

Patrick smirked. “I dunno. Do you think you can handle me as a WAG?”

“You were messing with me, weren’t you.”

“You’re so easy to mess with. I am genuinely worried about the future though.”

“We both are. But we’ll take it one day at a time.”

“And I have gained weight. Scale said I gained ten pounds.”

“The scale’s broken then, cause I don’t see it.” He patted Patrick’s shoulder. “Feeling better?” Patrick nodded. “Let’s go practice then.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

27 January 2001

David was going between the pipes. That was good, Patrick thought, cause he wasn’t feeling 100 percent.

He rubbed his stomach. It had been so upset lately, like something was inside it trying to get out. He put up with it the best he could, cause it wasn’t affecting his game play-in fact it wasn’t upset at all when he was on the ice.

Maybe it was just nerves, he thought, looking at Ray skate by. They were having a good year, a really good year, and they were capitalizing on it the best they could to get Ray that Stanley Cup. There was a lot of pressure on everyone, including him.

Ugh, speaking of pressure...he slipped away to use the restroom. If he didn’t know better he’d swear his bladder’s getting smaller.

He got out in time for the game to end and joined the others talking about the game, which had been a great one. As they all dressed and made plans for later Patrick rubbed his stomach again.

Joe frowned. “Stomach bothering you?”

“A little. I think I’ll get something for it while I’m out.”

Joe frowned. Patrick seemed okay, but….a bunch of little things were adding up. To what, he didn’t know.

0-0-0-0-0-0

15 February 2001

“Joe?”

“Yeah, Pat?”

“Can you come here?”

Joe came over.

“Is it me or is my skate not fitting me?”

Joe peered over. “Patrick! Your ankle’s completely swollen!”

“It is?” He lifted it up to look, which got Joe looking at the other one.

“And so’s your other ankle! What did you do?”

“Nothing! I don’t think...” Patrick frowned as he tried to recall if he injured his ankles.

“Don’t they hurt?”

Patrick shrugged. “Not really...” Or maybe he hadn’t noticed. His back had been aching lately. He really needed to replace his bed.

“You’re sitting out today. We’re putting David in.”

“Joe!”

“No, I’m telling you this as your captain. I’ll go tell Bob.”

Patrick went to get up to try to stop him, but gasped and had to sit down. He rubbed the small of his back.

Yeah. Definitely going to get that bed replaced as soon as they get a break.

0-0-0-0-0-0

3 March 2001

Patrick felt like shit.

That back pain he had felt on and off last month had gotten worse last night, and no matter what position he got in he couldn’t alleviate the pain.

And at four in the morning his stomach started aching. It had been once or twice earlier, but now it was hurting more frequently. He wasn’t sure how he managed to drive to practice. As it is, he had to clutch his stomach and breathe through the pain until it passed.

Logically, he knew he should’ve just gone straight to the hospital, but the Pepsi Center was actually closer, and he did have to let them know to scratch him so they can call up someone. They can get him an ambulance if he needed it.

He staggered into the building, ignoring the worst pain yet, and made it to the locker room. Everyone looked at him like he was a zombie.

Joe heard the collective gasp and turned. He dropped his stick in panic and ran to his lover. “Patrick! What’s wrong?” he asked with a little more panic than the rest of the team was expecting.

“My stomach.” He cried out in pain, nearly falling to his knees from it.

Joe and Ray caught him and guided him to a bench. “Peter, get the rest of the team out of here! Adam, call an ambulance!”

Patrick whimpered and curled up. “It hurts,” He said in French, all his English leaving him.

“I know,” Ray said back, “we’re getting you help.”

Patrick just cried out again. It was only after that that Ray noticed a wet spot spreading across Patrick’s pants.

Couldn’t be. He hadn't had any other signs that he had been. He sure didn’t look it. But when Ray saw that patch all he could think about was ‘87 when Doug went into labor during practice and the ambulance getting stuck in traffic forced Ray to deliver Doug’s son for him.

“Fuck! Joe, help me get his pants off! I think I know what’s wrong!”

Patrick sat up and, with Joe’s help, got his pants and underwear off. He yelped in pain and started to feel pressure.

Ray looked between Patrick’s legs. “Partick, you’re in labor!”

That shut Patrick up real quick. “What?”

Joe was equally baffled. “What?”

“You’ve been pregnant this whole time, and the baby’s coming! I can already see the head!”

Joe lost his shit. “He can’t be! He’s been playing the whole time!”

Patrick just sat there, still in shock.

How? How did he go nine months without knowing he was pregnant? How did he not manage to miscarry the entire time? How the fuck did he get pregnant? Well, at least that last one had an answer.

Patrick grabbed Joe by the collar and began cursing him out in French.

Joe was frozen in fear, though whether it was fear of Patrick or fear for the child-or both-he wasn’t sure.

Ray looked up. “Wait, Joe got you pregnant?” Everyone could’ve sworn their captain was asexual.

Joe shook his head and cleared his thoughts. “FOCUS! Patrick, push! Ray, catch! Adam, where’s that ambulance!”

“They’re almost here!” Adam yelled from the other room.

Patrick nodded. Joe was right. There would be time to kill him later, once they knew the child would be okay. He got a determined look on his face and began pushing in earnest. He didn’t let go of Joe’s collar though. He can fucking suffer too.

Adam ran past them to meet the paramedics. Ray was muttering about how he thought he wouldn’t have to do this shit again as he checked on Patrick. Patrick kept pushing. He was starting to get worn out-no doubt the stress of the situation plus the shock of unexpectedly giving birth was doing it.

Much to Ray’s relief, the paramedics came in and took over. Patrick whimpered as he pushed the baby out. That sound broke Joe’s heart.

“Hey. You can do this. We’ll get through it. Everything will be okay.” He hoped.

Patrick cried out again as he passed the shoulders. He didn’t feel so good.

“One more push!”

Patrick did, and then started to slump against Joe.

“Patrick?”

“It’s a girl!”

“Patrick!”

“He’s losing blood, we need to get him to the hospital.”

“PATRICK!”

0-0-0-0-0

Patrick’s eyes opened to a bland white ceiling. Groggily he tried to remember how he got here. He felt like death warmed over. Like he was hit by a truck.

Like he...like he just gave birth!

Patrick tried to sit up, ignoring the pain.

“No, Patty!” Joe tried to hold him back. “You need to rest!”

“Where is it? What is it? Is it okay?”

“Calm down!” Joe pushed him back. “I...they’re running tests on her right now to be sure. They’re not sure if she was affected by you...not knowing she was there.”

“How did I not miscarry her? I’ve taken so many shots there...I got run over.”

“I guess she’s as resilient as we are.”

Patrick put his head in his hands. “How did I miss this?”

Joe touched his back. “I don’t know. Some things make sense in hindsight, but it wasn’t like you showed...or had morning sickness…

“And I didn’t think I could. Not with my heats so irregular.”

“I did the math, it had to have been after the Conference finals. We probably didn’t notice.”

Patrick shook a little.

“Pat?”

“How am I supposed to be a good father if I didn’t even know I was carrying her?”

Joe wondered the same thing. He was just as culpable in this as Patrick was, and he had missed all the signs too. “I don’t know. But we’ll learn together, I guess.”

Patrick didn’t look up. “I think I’ll need to see someone about this.”

“Yeah...we both should.”

“Mr. Roy?” They looked up to see a doctor come into the room. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“I can imagine. You lost blood giving birth to your daughter, and I imagine the stress of the situation didn’t help. I need to examine you.”

Patrick waved him away. “I want an update on my daughter.”

“Your health first.”

Joe couldn’t help smiling as Patrick sulked throughout the exam. Their heads whipped around when the door opened again, with another doctor and a nurse coming in. The nurse was pushing a bassinet.

“Is she...”

The new doctor smiled. “She’s perfectly okay. It’s nothing short of a miracle.” Patrick reached out for her and the nurse placed her in his arms.

Patrick looked at the yawning baby in his arms. “Oh...” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah...” Joe said, smiling goofily.

“We made this. I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Yeah. But I’m glad it did.”

“Me too. But we need to name her.”

“You did the hard work, Patrick, you name her.”

Patrick just sat back, holding his daughter as she slept. “Isabelle,” he said.

“I love it.”

Patrick looked up at Joe. “What about the team?”

“You’re on IR until you’re ready to come back, and as both your captain and your mate, I insist you take your time.”

“But what about...”

“Ray would never forgive you, me, or himself if his Stanley Cup came at the cost of your health. As for the team, they do know what happened. Peter’s in charge tonight since I asked to be scratched from this and the road trip, and he promised as soon as they get back from it they’re throwing us a party.”

Patrick smiled. “They would have our backs like that.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow I’ll go and get the essentials for when you’re ready to...”

“Come home? I was about to ask if we should move in.”

Joe laughed. “Well, guess that’s a yes, then. We’ll go to yours for now and figure out everything from there.” He frowned. “Unfortunately, the media knows about her too. They are losing their minds over the fact that you didn’t know you were pregnant and kept playing while pregnant too.”

Patrick grinned. “So I caused another scandal?”

Joe rolled his eyes. “You would be proud of that.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

9 June 2001

Personally, Joe had always thought the ‘omegas make better goalies’ adage was a load of bunk. If you were good, you were good, and your dynamic had no bearing on it.

He also thought the idea a goalie’s performance improved post-pregnancy was also bunk. He could think of a number of goalies that didn’t have significant improvement.

But looking at Patrick accepting the Conn Smythe trophy, sometimes he had to wonder. Patrick had insisted on coming back for the playoffs, and he played the best of his career. He saw Patrick skate over to the trainer who was holding Isabelle and take her for a skate to celebrate.

Definitely worth having her.

0-0-0-0-0

But, Patrick thought later, definitely not worth a heavily pregnant Martin Brodeur yelling at him for being so stupid.