Chapter Text
Today is rapidly becoming the worst day of Charlie's life. Other than Extermination Day, of course, but that's an outlier that doesn’t really count right now. Not when it's not even eight in the morning and everything is already awful somehow.
For starters, she woke up nauseated. And as much as she'd like to curl into Alastor and sleep it off while he dotes on her… He was already gone to start breakfast well before she even woke up. And it's not like she can get away with shirking her responsibilities anyways. She decides to chalk it up to stress from both running the hotel and planning their upcoming wedding and just do her best to ignore it, but it's far from her only problem today.
She stands now in front of her wardrobe, wondering why all of her clothes are seeming so much tighter recently. She's struggling with the buttons on one of her usual tops, but it just isn't going to stay shut. Not without an obvious gap where the buttons are barely managing not to pop off. Even her bras aren't really fitting properly today, and she's really hoping it doesn't mean she's going to need new ones, because she doesn't even know where to begin with bra shopping right now.
She sighs in frustration, seeing she clearly isn't going to make her usual button-down and blazer combination work today. Has she really put on that much weight? Sure, she's been eating a little more recently — she's chalked that up to stress, too — but she didn’t think it was that bad. Sure enough, though, as she moves to stand in front of the mirror, she turns and finds a small bump protruding from her stomach. She rests a hand against it, frowning.
She's feeling an odd mix of stressed and disproportionately upset that has her on the verge of tears already, and she idly wonders if maybe her period is coming up. Surely that's why she seems like such a mess today. She stares at her reflection, as if looking long enough might change what she sees into something she can cope with right now.
A mass of shadow appears behind her in the mirror and, seconds later, Alastor steps through it. He winds his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him with a soft hm. Though his touch is always comforting to her, his hands resting against her stomach only seem to magnify her growing insecurity.
“It's time for breakfast, you know,” he says, resting his chin on her head. “Everyone’s asking if you're all right. Considering you're never late to anything, I do find myself wondering the same, darling.”
Charlie lets out a frustrated sigh. “It's been a rough morning already.”
“What's troubling you so early in the day?”
“Ugh, everything. I'm nauseated, none of my clothes are fitting right, and everything is already making me wanna cry. I know it's probably my period, but—”
“Hm, doubtful,” he interrupts.
“What do you mean, doubtful?”
“If it was your period, I'd smell blood. I would've warned you, you know that. Perhaps it's just an off day for you. Why don't we find you something to wear and get you down for breakfast? You'll feel better with something on your stomach.”
“I think I've got enough on my stomach, actually,” she mutters, glaring at her reflection.
“Nonsense!” Alastor gives her a rather appreciative once-over in the mirror. “I think you've been filling out quite nicely,” he adds, tone dropping suggestively as his hands caress over her stomach, moving to settle on her hips. “Having more of you to love and cherish is the opposite of an issue to me.”
Her face flushes red and she looks away, but he does have her smiling a bit now, at least. “Yeah, well. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if all my clothes weren't custom-fit.”
He gives another soft hm, summoning a tendril of shadow to rifle through her wardrobe. It returns to them with a yellow hoodie printed across the chest with a large rainbow. It's her favorite hoodie, mostly due to it being a bit oversized and the softest fabric she's ever felt. It isn't very professional, though, so it doesn't get to see too much daylight these days.
Alastor doesn't give her a chance to turn it down, tugging the hoodie over her head himself. It's oddly nice, she thinks, having him dress her like this. He pulls her hair from beneath the fabric, running his fingers through it as he does. He loves to play with her hair, and she’d gladly let him do it all day long if she could, just to enjoy the almost mind-numbing sense of relaxation it brings her. As time isn't terribly on their side right now, though, he merely combs his fingers through it, gathering it up and tying it into its usual ponytail. Once he's finished, he rests his hands at her shoulders, rubbing gentle circles through the fabric of her hoodie.
“There we are. Absolutely darling, if I do say so myself.”
He presses a kiss to the back of her head and she almost starts crying on the spot, albeit for a much different reason than earlier. “Thanks,” she says with a soft smile.
“Anything to make things easier on you, dear. Now, how about we get you down for breakfast?”
She gives a slight nod, and without another word, he whisks her off into his shadows. It's an oddly disorienting form of travel, and she's pretty sure she’s never going to get as comfortable with it as Alastor seems to be. That proves to be the least of her problems, however. As they near the kitchen, her nausea seems to ramp up much higher than before. Logically, she knows whatever Alastor’s made is bound to be amazing. He's never let her down before, and everyone else is quite happily eating already.
Yet as the smell hits her, she can't help but feel as if she's going to vomit. The nearer to the food itself she gets, the worse she feels, and it's taking everything in her to keep some semblance of composure. As they cross the threshold to the dining area, she clamps a hand firmly over her mouth, eyes going wide as a particularly strong wave of nausea hits.
“You doin’ all right?” Angel asks from the table, eyeing her suspiciously. She only nods quickly in response, not really trusting herself to speak.
“She's feeling a bit under the weather today,” Alastor says, and she's grateful he doesn't mind handling the others for her right about now.
She takes a seat at the table, leaning forward on her elbows as if that'll stop the nausea from overtaking her completely. It does seem to help a bit… That is, until Alastor sets a plate of food in front of her. It’s not even something she wouldn't like — just eggs, bacon, some pancakes. But as she stares down at the food set before her, she's absolutely certain there's no way she's eating any of it.
Her condition clearly doesn't go unnoticed, as Angel rests a hand on her shoulder and says, “Maybe you should go back to bed. You really ain't lookin’ too hot right now.”
She takes her hand away from her mouth just long enough to attempt an “I'm fine,” but she doesn’t actually manage to get it out. The moment her mouth opens, she knows she's lost. She bolts from the table, just glad there's a trash can nearby. She's distantly aware of Alastor hovering over her, brushing hair back from her face so it doesn't get puked on.
After a few minutes that feel an awful lot more like hours, she finally sits back, taking a few deep breaths. She's sweaty and her face feels gross now, and it's got her back to feeling like she’s going to cry. And as Alastor gently wipes her face with a damp cloth, she realizes she already is crying, his thumbs brushing the tears away as he tries his best to soothe her.
“Perhaps we really should get you back to bed, darling,” Alastor says, tone soft and gentle. “I can look after you for today, how's that sound? You're clearly in no condition to be running the show, at the very least.”
“I'm fine, I'm fine, I just… feel gross, that's all,” Charlie says, attempting to reassure him. “I just… maybe need to skip out on breakfast.”
“Actually, Charlie, could I see you for a minute upstairs?” Lucifer interrupts. She turns to find him looking at her with a rather worried expression.
“Uh, sure, I guess?”
“When was the last time you had your period?” is not a question anyone expects to hear from their father, but the second the door to Lucifer's room shuts, it's what he asks her.
And all Charlie can manage in response is a rather incredulous, “Dad!”
To his credit, he does give her a rather apologetic look. “Weird question, I know. It's just… You’ve been acting kinda off lately, and especially today… Look, I'm just gonna cut to the chase: I think you might be pregnant.”
“What‽”
Surely she's misheard him. The only person she's slept with in the past couple years is Alastor, and sinners can't have children. Everyone knows that. She even reminds her father as much.
“Sinners can't have kids with other sinners,” Lucifer corrects. “You're not a sinner, though. You could have kids with anyone. And as much as I hate to think about you and Alastor doing anything that could get you pregnant… I have a feeling that ship has already sailed.”
She takes a seat on his bed, feeling a lot like the room is spinning around her. “You didn't think to let me know about that… at any point in my life?”
Lucifer shrugs. “I never expected you'd shack up with a sinner. Didn't think it'd ever be relevant information.”
“You should've told me anyways! What am I supposed to do now?”
“Wait here while I run to the store real quick? I don’t exactly have a reason to keep pregnancy tests on hand.”
Oh no. Absolutely not. “There is no way in Heaven or Hell I'm letting you run off to get me a pregnancy test. I'll be the talk of Pride Ring!”
“Not if I grab it from Sloth. They have better ones there anyways. It'll only take a couple minutes since I can portal. Just don't go anywhere.”
He doesn't actually wait for a response, opening a portal and disappearing through it before she can argue. It really does only take him a couple minutes, but it's long enough for her mind to spiral out of control, so it's a couple minutes too long for her liking. By the time he returns, she's already crying again, having decided this might actually be the end of the world for her.
“Hey, hey, it's all right,” Lucifer says, rushing over to her. He pulls her into a hug and she clings to him, really just needing the comfort. “We don't know anything for sure yet. And no matter what the result is, or what you choose to do about it, I'm gonna be here for you.”
“I know, I just— I don't think there's anything you can say that's gonna make this not terrifying.”
“Well, like half the terror right now is not knowing. So maybe start with taking the test, and then we'll figure out from there if you still have anything to be scared about.”
“I know you're trying to lighten the mood, but you're really not helping anything.” She pushes him away, taking the test and heading to his bathroom.
The next fifteen minutes feel like absolute torture as she waits for the results. She sits on the bathroom floor, leaving the test on the counter so she at least isn't staring at it the entire time. She scrolls absently on her phone, hoping for anything to distract her while she waits, but her mind is racing a bit too much for her to focus on anything else.
She checks the timer just about every few seconds, yet she’s still startled when it actually goes off. Now that it's time to check the results… She doesn't really want to. She isn't even sure whether she wants it to be positive or negative. What she is sure of is that she really wishes she wasn’t in this position right now.
She gets up. Takes a deep breath. Picks up the test. And…
It's positive.
It feels a lot like the world has just slipped out from under her. She falls to her knees, sobbing all over again. A million thoughts rush through her mind at once, and she can't really make sense of a single one of them. She hears the door open, and then Lucifer is crouched by her side, one arm around her as if to comfort her somehow. It isn't really working.
“Oh, sweetie, it's gonna be okay. You'll figure this out. Whatever you decide to do, it's gonna be okay. I know it's a lot to process right now, but—”
“Dad,” she interrupts through her tears. “Get Alastor. Now.”
“Right, of course. I'll be back in a minute.” He sounds a little hurt, but he's really just not what she needs right now.
As much as Charlie loves her dad, as much as she knows he's trying to be helpful… The only thing she wants right now is Alastor. All she wants is for him to hold her, for him to tell her everything will be all right. She's pretty sure nothing's going to be okay until she knows where Alastor stands on this.
The moment they come back, Alastor is on the ground with her, pulling her into his arms. He gently rubs her back, trailing kisses down her neck and over her shoulder. She clings to him like he’s the only thing keeping her grounded, and really, he is right about now.
“Oh my darling belle, what's going on? I've never seen you this out of sorts without reason.” His tone is so gentle, she wishes she wasn't about to deliver such afterlife-altering news.
She pulls back, as close to looking him in the eye as anyone can get without making him too uncomfortable to continue the conversation, and takes a steadying breath.
“Alastor, I… I'm pregnant.”
It should be laughable, really, the way he freezes up with an audible record scratch sound effect playing from his microphone. If she were watching this happen to anyone else, she probably would find that a bit funny. But it's not now. Not when his expression is completely unreadable and he's all but withdrawn from the conversation before it's even started.
“Alastor? Please, say something. Literally anything.” Because I can't take the silence.
“...When I said I was going to put fawns in you, I didn't actually think it was possible,” Alastor says after a moment, sounding rather incredulous. Okay, anything but that.
“Please never say those words in front of me ever again,” Lucifer says from the doorway. Charlie had all but forgotten he was even there for a moment. Her face flushes red as she realizes what her father now knows about her sex life, which is to say… Way more than she ever wanted him to.
Alastor seems to have realized what he said as well, face flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry, that's— What I mean to say is… How? I was under the impression sinners can't procreate?”
“With each other,” Lucifer corrects with an exasperated sigh, as if Alastor should've known about the conversation he had with Charlie earlier. “Charlie's a Hellborn. She can still get pregnant, even by a sinner. Unfortunately.”
“Do you mind? I don’t think your attitude is very helpful right now.” Alastor shoots a glare at Lucifer before turning back to Charlie, expression softening. “What are you planning to do about… the baby?”
“I… I really don't know. I was really hoping you'd have some kind of strong reaction one way or the other, and that could just decide things for me.”
“It's not up to me, dearest. You'll be the one carrying this baby for… presumably the next few months? If you choose to keep it, of course. I won't stand in the way, regardless of your decision.”
Charlie sighs, shaking her head. “I need a real answer, Al. I don’t—” she chokes on another sob, feeling overwhelmed all over again— “I don't wanna do this alone. I know I have Dad and all the others here, I just— I don't wanna do it without you.”
He cups her cheek in one hand, giving her one of the most tender looks she's ever seen from him. “Darling, you're never going through anything without me again. That's the whole point of us getting married: everything we go through, we go through it together.”
That actually does help, and she feels a lot better having heard it. As terrifying as the idea of having a baby and being a mother is, as long as she has Alastor's support, she's sure she can handle it. Though one thing he said does strike her, and she groans.
“We're gonna have to postpone the wedding, aren't we? There’s no way I can do it like this. The last thing I wanna do is puke all over my wedding dress at the ceremony…”
Alastor lets out a soft chuckle. “The wedding can wait, then. You're stuck with me regardless, don't you worry your pretty little head about that.”
“There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with,” she says, giving him a small smile. “So everything's gonna be okay? With us, and— and the baby?”
“Of course. There's nothing we can't handle together. We'll figure this out, too, I'm sure of it.”
“Can we figure it out tomorrow? I've been through so much today, I'm exhausted.”
“Absolutely.” Alastor stands, picking Charlie up in a bridal carry. “Let's get you back to our room, hm? I think you've earned some rest.”