Credits to: it's rotten work (lilhemmo.tumblr.com)
"You promise you won't tell him before we have the party?"
Toni smiles, her eyes bright, "Are you kidding? I can't wait to see his face!"
You nod, "Me either."
Sweet Pea proposed to you a few years after you graduated high school, right after you got back from college. You returned to Riverdale with a degree you could use and you helped to clean up the Southside. You worked with Toni, Fangs, Sweet Pea and other Serpents to fix up the construction and get some money flowing back through the Southside.
It wasn't long before you got married, and Pea bought the mechanic's garage and the Wyrm with money he'd been saving up from rather unsavory activities. At least Peabody paid good money for those drug runs back in the day.
Now you're hiding a very big secret from him, but it's for his own good.
"Babe, promise you won't be late?" you echo through the phone receiver. Pea looks up to the body in front of him, bloody and battered but still breathing, "Yeah, promise."
You weren't aloof to the premise of what his Serpent duties involved. You chose not to get too involved – you weren't the clean-up crew, you weren't the intimidation warden, and you weren't the voice of reason through it all. You were just the person who kept the Whyte Wyrm in business, who kept Switzerland up and running while the Serpents on the ground did the dirty work.
Currently you're pouring shots at the Wyrm while Tony sets up the entire getup with balloons and confetti spread around. You can't keep the smile off your face as you realize the gravity of what you're going to tell Sweet Pea. He won't have to stop what he's doing, of course, but he will have to understand the consequences of his actions.
He'll have more to fight for, you tell yourself.
The demon on your shoulder whispers: Yes, but he'll also have more to lose.
The clock chimes nine and you're sitting on the back porch of the Wyrm waiting for Sweets to arrive. The longer you sit, the more nervous you become. Your hand instinctively presses over your stomach as your toe nudges the gift box sitting in front of you.
It's nine thirty and you still haven't heard from Sweet Pea, but you do know that he was out on a job and you're sure that it just ran late.
Your head lolls against the porch post and you find yourself fading in and out of sleep around ten fifteen. You lick your lips and clutch the box in your hands, keeping it safe as if your life depended on it. You tell yourself it will just be a moment that you'll close your eyes, but sooner rather than later you're jolted out of sleep at close to eleven.
Your phone rings and the sheriff's phone number populates on your screen. Your heart leaps into your throat and you answer the call with shaking fingers.
"Yeah, FP?"
"Sweets is down at Riverdale General."
You don't listen to the rest of what he has to say, instead running inside to grab Toni and ride with her to the hospital. The ride is silent, your eyes drawn to the woods in the distance to try and keep your mind occupied as you count the trees. The package sits in your lap and you are digging into the paper with your fingernails, but you don't care.
"Where is he?" you ask frantically, noticing Fangs and Jug leaning against a wall up the hallway. You smack Fangs on the arm, "Where is he?"
His eyes are dark and sad, which does nothing to quell the acid rising in your stomach, and he points to the room across the hall with Sweet Pea written on the white board. You push through the door, not caring if anyone else is in there.
"Pea," his name bubbles from your lips.
He groans, blinking up at you slowly. His eye is cut and his cheek is bruised, but otherwise he looks cosmetically okay. You're sure that there is internal bleeding or cracked ribs, but you don't care because he's still breathing and you still get to deliver your news.
"Baby, I'm so-"
You shake your head and grab his hand, unbeknownst to the battered knuckles that are covered in gauze. Tears spill over onto your cheeks and you kiss his wrist, gushing breaths as you try and calm yourself. You laugh thickly, toying with your lower lip, "You're okay?"
Sweet Pea nods and croaks out a sad, "Yeah, I'm fine."
That's all you need to stand to your feet and grab him by the hospital clothes, seething between your teeth, "You're lucky I don't kill you myself, Sweet Pea. I can't believe you! I told you to be somewhere!"
He raises his arms in defense, eyes wide as he listens to your tirade. The machines begin beeping quicker, signaling his heart rate increasing. Still, you continue berating him for his lateness and his injuries.
"I thought you were dead!" you poke your finger in his chest despite his wince. You purse your lips, "I waited outside the Wyrm for hours, Pea! I was worried sick about you!"
"I know, I know, I-I'm so-"
"And another thing-"
"Babe," Sweet Pea reaches out and grabs your wrist, grimacing at the contact. He looks you in the eyes, "I'm sorry."
You take a deep breath and tears surface to your eyes, and suddenly you really hate the journey your hormones are taking you on. Your shoulders shudder and you fall into the chair beside his bed, running your hands through your hair as a small sob shakes your chest.
Sweet Pea sits up in his bed and reaches out to you, his hand on your knee. He swallows thickly, "Baby, what's really wrong?"
"Baby," you echo, looking up at him through watery irises. You lick your lips and cover his hand with your own, remembering the package that's sitting by your feet. A whimper escapes your mouth and you reach down to pick up the box wrapped in celebratory paper.
"Did I forget..." Sweet Pea looks up at you quizzically. He takes the package from your hands and pauses before slipping his finger under the slit in the paper. "Did I forget something?"
"No," you shake your head as you try to contain your smile.
He chuckles, gnawing on his lip as he goes about ripping open the box. Underneath all the thorns and spikes, Sweets is just what his name suggests. You know a different side of him, one that appears after the jacket is slipped off his shoulders and you're in his arms.
The package is broken open and the confusion on Sweet Pea's face is priceless. You break into a grin, holding your hands over your face as he rifles through the items in the box, covered in tissue paper.
The first item is a green onesie with the words "new to the tribe" curled around a cartoonish giraffe. His brows knit together, creases appearing on his forehead as he runs his thumbs over the fabric. Sweet Pea darts his eyes at you for a fleeting second, recognition smoothing out his features.
He buries his hands deeper in the box, pulling out a small pair of black combat boots tiny enough to fit infant feet. Tears pool in his eyes and he looks up at you one final time before speaking, "What the hell is going on?"
"What the hell is going on is that I'm pregnant."
Sweet Pea's jaw drops, and you can't help but laugh at his facial expression. You rise out of your chair and he sits up in the bed and you come together in a hug. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and he buries his head into the crook of your neck. You hold one another tightly as you realize that your world has suddenly been changed forever.
He pulls back from you and grabs at your face, holding you steady between his fingers, "I-I can't believe it."
"Yeah," you whisper, unable to speak any louder. You giggle as you hold eye contact with the love of your life, now the father of your child. "Neither can I."
Sweet Pea pulls you closer and crushes his mouth to your own. His lips meld with yours and your heart surges at the feeling of him invading all of your senses as if you were teenagers again, making out against the bar at the Wyrm. You grin against his lips and feel his palms roam over your barely-there belly.
You lean back, "You can't even tell yet, Sweets."
"I still know now, though." He laughs, eyes bright as the smile reaches the entirety of his face. Dimples embed in his cheeks and he stares down at your stomach, his eyes glittering. Tears spill over and he looks back up at you, "I'm so sorry I messed this up, doll. I didn't know-"
"I know, I know," you nod in response, rolling your eyes. "It's okay. I'm sorry for freaking out on you earlier."
Sweet Pea kisses your forehead and then your lips, lingering on the latter. He swallows and his throat bobs, "I can't wait to meet our baby."
Three months later
The bed is warm where his body lays. Your legs tangle together and his lips are against your forehead, kissing as much of your face as he can. He laughs, brushing his thumb over your navel where the slightest of bulges grows.
"We're not giving them a Serpent name," Sweet Pea shakes his head. He grunts, "Forsyth Pendleton? Fangs? Sweet Pea?!"
Brown eyes connect with your own, "I mean, what the actual hell? Who thought those were a good idea?"
"I don't know," you shrug and join in on his giggles. "But I'm kind of glad that I don't have to fight you on this one. Maybe they'll have a normal name like Jackson or Addison."
You trail your fingers up his bare chest, ghosting over the curve of his jaw as you stare at his features, memorizing every freckle and scar. You lick your lips and run the pad of your thumb over his lower lip, "I love you, Sweets."
"I love you too, baby," he kisses your nose and then your mouth. The two of you mold together like you're made for each other. Pea smells like he always does – musk, gasoline, and home. His mouth is familiar to you, something you've known and memorized for years now. As his teeth tear at your lip and his breath clouds your mind, your body reacts to him and pushes flush against his torso.
His arms wrap around your bare shoulders and his hips connect with yours, getting as close as you can with the bump separating your bellies. Sweet Pea's nose bumps against your skin and his lips move as he whispers to you through the quiet of the room.
Six months later
"Why isn't she breathing?!" Sweet Pea's voice is more like a desperate cry, his hands gripping onto you for dear life. Tears stream down his cheeks and he looks to the doctors for some type of answer, but gets none as they skirt around your bedside and work on your vitals.
"We need to get him out of here," the main nurse says as quietly as she can. She looks Pea in the eyes, "We need room to work, and you're under a lot of stress right now."
"Under a lot of st-what?!" Sweet Pea stands to his feet, his hands never leaving you. "You've got to be out of your mind if you think I'm leaving."
After hours of sitting in the waiting room, the doctor finally walks through the doors.
Sweet Pea jumps to his feet, Fangs and Toni flanking him on either side. He's six inches from the doctor, towering over him, when the older man speaks, "You can see her now."
They push past him and head straight to your room, bursting in the door and drawing your attention away from the window. You hold your arms out and he falls into you, dropping his head to your chest as he cries into your hospital gown.
"I thought I lost you," he whimpers against your neck. "Don't ever scare me like that again."
He pulls back and pushes your hair away from your face to look you over, but suddenly he realizes that something, or rather someone, is missing.
"Where is-"
"She's right here," a nurse enters with a purple blanket bundled around the tiny figure you've both waited almost a year to see.
Sweet Pea reaches out and takes her in his own hands, cradling her against his chest. He brushes his thumb over her cheeks and down her nose, tracing every one of her features as he drinks her in. In the meantime, he walks over to the side of your bed, gently bobbing up and down to keep her comfortable while he does.
Your smile spreads wide as you hear him murmuring to her. He finds his place in the chair next to you, tilting her upward so you can look her in the eyes. Sweet Pea gives her over to you, pulling her blanket over her toes when you hold her in your arms. He squeezes your shoulder and kisses your temple before wiping at his face to try and rid himself of the tears and snot that collected from reunited with you.
"She's perfect," you smile as you look over her face. She has his dark eyes and tan skin, her tiny hands huddled against her chest as she gazes around, presumably for something to eat. You chuckle and look up at him, "She looks just like you, what am I – a bread oven?"
"A beautiful bread oven," Sweet Pea quips, winking down at you. "You did all of this, I just helped jump start the process."
You snort, "Only you could make a motorcycle pun at a time like this."
Sweet Pea kisses your lips, "Oh, you love me."
"Yes, I do," you answer. "Both of you."
Credits to: it's rotten work (lilhemmo.tumblr.com)