His mother's eyes fill with immediate worry.
"What is it, honey? What's wrong?"
Felix takes a deep, steadying breath.
"I... I…"
But the words get stuck in his throat, tangled up in the mess of hope and fear and happiness warring in his mind.
His mother steps closer, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Sweetie," she says gently. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. *Please.*"
Felix closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"I..."
*Just spit it out.*
"I'm..." He swallows hard, voice almost silent.
"...pregnant."
His mother's grip tightens on his shoulder, just a little—not quite a flinch, just surprise.
Then she pulls him into a hug.
"My God," she whispers, stroking his hair. "My sweet boy…"
Felix buries his face into the soft curve of her shoulder, breathing her familiar scent—lavender and fresh-baked bread—as the tears that've been building finally start to fall.
"It's Jake's," Felix whispers into her shoulder, voice trembling. "I… I didn't plan this. I didn't even know until today…"
She pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes—her own glistening.
"Oh, honey," she breathes. "*My son.*"
And then, without hesitation:
"You're going to be a mother... and that means you're stronger than you've ever known."
She cups his face gently—thumb brushing away a tear.
"Are *you* happy?"
Felix hesitates.
Not because he isn't…
but because he's scared.
But deep down?
Beneath the pain and distance and everything between them…
he knows one truth:
He wants this child more than anything.
And part of him still loves Jake with everything he has.
So he nods—softly, shakily—
"...Yeah," he whispers. "*I am.*"
His mother smiles through tears—
and for the first time since stepping off that plane...
Felix doesn't feel so alone anymore.
"Then we fight for it," his mother says, voice firm now—like steel wrapped in silk. "You don't run from love, Felix. You *run toward it.* Especially when you're carrying a piece of it inside you."
Felix looks at her—really looks—and sees not just comfort...
but fire.
"I told him to stay away," he whispers. "I said there was no us..."
His mother softens again, brushing hair from his forehead.
"And now? Do you still believe that?"
He doesn't answer right away.
Because the truth is written all over his face—the way his hand keeps drifting back to rest on his stomach, the quiet awe beneath the fear.
"...No," he finally says. "*I don't.*"
A slow smile spreads across her lips.
"Then go get your alpha back."
---
Felix gives her one last look—grateful, and a little more hopeful than he has in months.
Then he turns away—head held high—and walks back down the hallway.
His mother watches him go.
And when he reaches the door, she calls out after him:
"Hey. Felix?"
He stops, hand still resting on the doorframe.
"Yeah?"
"One last question."
Her expression turns serious again, eyes meeting his.
Felix takes a breath, bracing himself.
"...What?"
"Are *you* happy?" she asks again—soft, but firm.
Not about Jake.
Not about the past.
But *him.*
Felix blinks.
And in that quiet moment, with snow still falling beyond the window and one hand resting low on his stomach, he realizes—
he hasn't asked himself that in years.
A shaky breath escapes him… then a small, real smile—tentative at first…
"...Yeah," he whispers. "*For the first time in a long time… I think I am.*"
His mother nods—once—then smiles.
"Then go be *unstoppable.*"
---
"Yeah. I will."
Felix pushes the door open.
The winter air is sharp as ice, and snow flurries past in the night—a world of white.
But Felix steps outside.
He can feel Jake out there somewhere now—like a fire burning low in his chest, calling to him.
*Home.*
He takes a deep breath, lifting his face upward as snowflakes kiss his skin…
…and starts walking.
"...Maybe next time," Felix whispers, stopping mid-step.
The wind catches his words and carries them away—like a confession too fragile to survive the cold.
His hand lingers on his stomach, fingers pressing gently over where their child grows… safe… silent…
But the world isn't ready.
*He's* not ready.
Jake betrayed him. Not with hate—but with weakness. With fear. And love doesn't erase that pain—it just lives beside it now.
Felix turns back toward the house, shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of everything: hope, grief, and a future that won't wait.
"Not yet," he murmurs to himself as he steps inside and closes the door behind him—softly this time.
The warmth wraps around him like a blanket. The lights are low. Snow falls beyond the windows like secrets never meant to be spoken aloud.
He stands there for a long moment…
then takes off his coat,
walks upstairs,
and climbs into bed—
one hand curled beneath his pillow,
the other resting protectively on his belly,
where something small and perfect is already learning how to survive
just by being loved...
even when no one else knows it's there yet.
---
Felix stares up at the ceiling, mind racing.
Jake is out there.
Alone.
Maybe thinking about him, maybe not.
Jake was wrong. So wrong.
But that doesn't mean he's a bad person.
It just means he's scared.
We all act like fools when we're afraid.
And deep down, Felix understands that.
*I still love him. But it doesn't mean I should run back to him.*
He turns onto his side, hand resting over his stomach...
"...You deserve better," he whispers into the dark.
Not just to Jake.
To himself, too.
The room is quiet—only the soft hum of the heater and distant sound of city snow settling like breath held too long.
Felix closes his eyes.
He won't run back.
He won't beg.
And he *won't* pretend this pain doesn't matter—just because love still beats in his chest like a second heartbeat, deep where their child sleeps safe inside him.
No.
This time?
**He waits for something real.**
For change. For growth. For honesty that isn't bought with tears or guilt—but earned with time and courage and choice.
And if Jake finds his way back?
Then fine—he'll meet him not as a broken boy chasing forgiveness…
but as a mother standing strong,
carrying love that survived even when it was tested by fire—
and never once stopped believing in *tomorrow.*
"I'm not running," Felix whispers to the night.
"But I'm not waiting forever, either."
He pulls the blanket tighter around himself—protective, like a shield—and closes his eyes.
Outside, snow falls without sound.
And for the first time in years…
he lets himself *rest*—
not because he's given up…
but because he knows now:
Love isn't about clinging to someone who left.
It's about building something real with someone willing to stay.
And whatever comes next?
He'll face it—not just as Jake's omega,
but as **a parent**—
stronger than before,
carrying hope where once was only heartbreak...
and healing… one quiet breath at a time.
Felix sleeps, dreaming of worlds half-remembered and half-made up in sleep-fogged hope.
It's almost peaceful. Quiet.
Almost.
Then a knock at the door shatters it.
Felix's eyes blink open, heart in his throat—
But it's only his mother, cracking open the door in the dark and stepping inside.
She stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at him.
"Are you awake?" she whispers.
"...Yeah." Felix mumbles, rubbing his eyes as his brain struggles to wake. "What is it?"
She hesitates, watching as he sits up.
"There's someone here to see you," she says softly. "He's outside."
Felix's heart skips a beat.
He knows who it is even before the name leaves his lips: "Jake...?"
His mother nods.
"Yeah."
Felix is already swinging his legs over the side of the bed—not sure whether to be hope *or* afraid.
"What-- What does he want?"
She hesitates.
"I think... he wants to explain."
Felix's feet touch the ground. It feels too cold.
"Did he say anything? Is he alone?"
His mother puts up a hand.
"That's for him to say. But Felix... just hear him out first, okay? Then you can tell me to send him away."
Felix looks up at her, eyes wide and hopeful and scared and exhausted all at once.
"What if I can't forgive him?" He asks quietly. "What if I can't stop loving him, even after everything?"
"Then you'll make your own peace with it," she says softly. "But you're strong, Felix. You're smart. You'll figure out the difference between forgiveness and forgetting."
She smiles gently, then offers a hand.
"Come on. He's been waiting outside long enough."
His mother leads him downstairs in silence—just the sound of their footsteps and his own heart thundering in his ears.
The house is dark, all the lights off except for the porch light glowing golden through the glass.
Felix can see Jake through the window as they approach, shifting nervously on the other side of the door.
His mother stops a few feet back, giving Felix space.
"Go on," she whispers. "He's ready to talk."
Felix swallows hard, then walks the last few steps to the door alone.
His hand's almost shaking as he turns the handle.
Jake looks up as the door creaks open, eyes meeting Felix's.
"Hey," he whispers. "Can I... come in?"
"No."
The word slips out before Felix can stop it—quiet, but firm.
Jake flinches, shoulders tightening like he was bracing for impact.
Felix sees it. Feels it. But he doesn't soften.
Instead, he steps outside—closing the door behind him—so they're face to face in the snow-flecked night, breath rising in white wisps between them.
"Say what you came to say," Felix says. His voice is calm. Too calm. Like ice over fire.
"I'm not going back inside just because you showed up."
Jake shoves his hands in his pockets, looking away for a moment.
"I didn't come to fight, Felix," he whispers. "I just... I need you to let me explain."
Felix stiffens.
"Explain *what?* That you're scared? That deep down, you're still the same goddamn coward?"
Jake blinks, like he's been slapped.
"You know what you promised me?" Felix takes a step toward him, jaw clenched tight. "You promised you wouldn't leave."
Jake starts to say something, then shuts his mouth again—eyes lowered.
Felix swallows hard, fighting tears.
"But you did."
Silence stretches between them—cold and heavy—until Jake finally manages: "I'm sorry."
"So *now* you're sorry."
Felix almost laughs, but it ends up more of a sob.
"You think those two words are going to fix everything?"
He doesn't wait for an answer—not yet—just spins away, walking a slow half-circle on the porch, trying to get control of his emotions.
Jake's voice drifts after him, soft and almost helpless.
"Felix... *please*..."
"I can't do this again," Felix mutters, not looking back.
But Jake follows him like a dog chasing its tail, still pleading.
"Felix, *please*..."
Felix's shoulders shake.
"You want me to forgive you?" He whispers. "You want me to say it's okay. That everything's alright, and we can go back to before, or pretend I don't care about you at all? *That I don't still love you*?"
He turns, meeting Jake's eyes again.
"Well, I can't."
"Felix..." Jake whispers, eyes shining.
But Felix won't let himself break down. Not now.
*"I'm* the one who was betrayed, Jake," he says—low and furious. "I'm the one who thought we had a life together. But you just couldn't trust me, could you?"
Jake's eyes fill with tears.
"Felix, I was scared—"
*"I was, too!*" Felix snaps back. "*But I didn't run!*"
"If you really loved me," Felix whispers, "you wouldn't have left."
Jake opens his mouth to object, to beg, to explain—
His voice catches—eyes welling over.
"I love you," he says, so softly the words almost disappear. "*I never stopped.*"
Felix sucks in a breath, shaking his head slowly—trying to stay strong.
"Don't do this," he says hoarsely. "*Don't*."
"Please. *Please*," Jake whispers, taking a step forward. "Just let me be with you. Stay with me. I'll prove myself, I swear. I'll fix this."
Felix's hands clench and unclench at his sides—fighting the need, the desperate, aching *want* to just take the offer. To believe him. To forget every word he said about moving on.
Jake reaches for him—
—but Felix jerks back, out of reach.
"Don't, *please*," Felix repeats, voice shaking.
Tears spill down Jake's cheeks.
"I *love* you, Felix. I'll never stop."
Felix presses his eyes shut, fighting tears of his own.
"Shut up," he whispers. "Just... shut up. I don't care."
"Please," Jake says again, almost choking. "I *need* you."
Felix's resolve fractures at the desperation.
"Shut up," he repeats—not much above a whisper.
"Look at me."
Felix opens his eyes, trying harder to stay steady when he sees Jake's tear-streaked face.
"I'm not your second chance," Felix says, voice raw. "I'm not your *project.*"
Jake shakes his head fast.
"No—Felix, you're *everything.* You always have been."
"Then why didn't you come for me?" Felix chokes out, voice raw with of pain.
"Not when Mika took me. Not when they dragged me under and kept me in that cell for. You didn't come."
Jake's breath hitches—eyes wide, haunted.
"I *wanted* to!" His voice cracks. "I was going to—I had the plane ready, I had backup lined up—
Felix stares at him.
"...You believed him?"
"I thought I would be able to find you" Jake sobs.
He takes a shaky step forward.
"But I never stopped loving you. Not one second."
Silence falls between them—snow drifting down like ash over fire.
And in the stillness?
Felix finally whispers:
"...I'm carrying your child."
Jake's eyes go wide—disbelief, hope, and a thousand other emotions warring over his face.
"You—what?" He asks, almost like a prayer. "You... you are?"
Felix gives a jerky nod—still scared, still hurting, but also... glad.
"Yeah," he says. "I'm... I'm pregnant."