Sleeping With Giants

February brings a lot of snow and a lot of grumpy werewolves. The snowstorms make it harder for them to get out and run as often and when they do, it's not exactly pleasant running through all the snow on the ground. So when Kennedy snaps at John when he tells him he put the Spider-Man DVD in the wrong case, John really doesn't take it all that personally. Except he totally does because hello, he organized these DVDs himself last week when everybody was gone and he had finished all of his online class work and had nothing to do. But he gets that Kennedy is stressed so he just pouts to himself and puts the movie back into its case without another word about it. Because he is totally mature and does not get emotional when his best friend tells him to shove his DVD up his ass.

"I didn't mean it," Kennedy apologizes, ten minutes later. He moves over on the couch that John is laying down on, lifting John's legs and sliding underneath them. His fingers rub circles on his ankles and John sighs.

"I know you didn't."

"How's Peanut?" He asks softly.

John smiles and stretches out, just barely missing kicking Kennedy in the jaw. "You'd know the answer to that better than I would, wouldn't you?"

Kennedy takes that as an invitation, siting easily so he's curled up behind John, back pressed against the couch. He presses his face into John's side and presses his palm against the side of his belly. "She's moving a lot," he says happily, grinning and trying to hide his face in John's shirt. "Is she kicking you?"

John ignores that because yeah, duh, and instead opts to correct him on his pronoun use. "Enough with the 'she'. Why does nobody listen to me?"

"Because you're John."

It makes sense when you put it that way, John figures. So he shrugs and goes back to the book he's been reading on Alex's iPad. It's written by some lady who married a werewolf and she talks about how she deals with all those little...werewolf quirks and what it's like having a baby who's a werewolf. Grieco found it for him and sent the link to Jack who forwarded it on to him. It's slightly interesting. He hasn't fallen asleep in the middle of a sentence yet, anyway.

"Is there a reason none of you guys are sure if this baby is human or not? Because this lady knew," John questions, waving the tablet in Kennedy's face.

Kennedy shoves it away with a glare. "I haven't exactly spent a lot of time around pregnant people. Aside from you. And neither has anyone else, really. How would we know?"

"How did I get stuck with the dumb werewolves?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pretty good feeling she's a werewolf. Alex too. But he won't say it in case he's wrong."

"Well, since you're all useless, I'll inform you that I am positive Peanut is a freak like you. No offense."

"John, you're the only human in this pack. Hate to break it to you but you're the-"

"If you finish that highly insulting sentence, I'm telling Alex you were being mean to me and we'll see who has the last laugh."

Kennedy shrugs. "I'm already on dish duty for the whole week because I broke that window with a baseball. What more could he do?"

"I saw Martin throw his laundry downstairs this morning. Days worth of gross, sweaty gym clothes-"

"Okay, point taken."

Kennedy keeps his mouth shut while John keeps reading the book on the iPad, getting lost in the paragraphs detailing this poor woman's nightmares with hyperactive werewolf children who can't sit still for longer than a minute. John has a bad feeling that his child is going to be an absolute nightmare once he or she hits the terrible two's.

Whatever. That can be Alex's problem.



"So how have you been feeling?"

John shrugs. He doesn't even know how to answer that question anymore. He's at his twenty-eight week appointment, sans Alex because he had to go to Virginia to visit his dad at the company's main office. His mom came with him instead, taking off from her shift at the hospital. She claimed it wasn't a big deal, and that she has plenty of vacation time, but John knows that even if she didn't, she wouldn't pass this opportunity up.

"John, use your words," his mom tells him, giving him a pointed look. "A shrug is not an answer."

"Mom, come on," he whines, face heating up in embarrassment. Of course she would embarrass him now of all times. He points at the sonogram image on the screen in front of him and pouts. "Not in front of my kid!"

Doctor Milton laughs as she fills in a few bits of information on his charts. "It's okay. I understand it's hard to put it into words. Especially when you must be feeling so many different things."

That's not the issue. He's just too lazy to list every single thing that's been ailing him. But if his mom is going to insist, then fine. "I feel okay, I guess. Except for when my back hurts. And my feet. Plus nothing fits anymore so I'm basically living in my boyfriend's pajama pants and hoodies. Plus-"

"Those are all normal and expected things," she cuts him off, still laughing. "You must be getting excited. Not much longer now."

"How much more weight am I gonna gain?" John asks, because that's the most important thing here.

"By the books, you should gain about a pound per week from now on. However, you've gained less than the average amount that men your age gain, so if it's less than a pound per week, I wouldn't be that worried."

He frowns again, not liking the sound of that. He knows it's necessary but still. He's gained twenty pounds already. Gaining more weight is not exactly on his list of things to do.

"And you still don't want to know the sex?"

"Nope."

"And you and Alex are still good for the scheduled C-section?"

"April 25th. Still good for us."

"Okay. Well that just about covers it for today I think. I'll have one of the receptionists schedule another appointment for you for next month, alright?"

She grins at him as she closes her files and gets up from the chair, handing John his t-shirt as she goes.

"God, Mom. Why must you embarrass me everywhere we go?" He asks as he pulls his shirt on over his head. "I am about to become a parent and you totally just embarrassed me in front of my kid."

"That's my job, John. Get used to it."

The ladies at the reception desk hand John a stack of copies of the sonogram photo from the day, as well as a card with his next appointment date written on it. His mom takes it right from him and puts it in her wallet after putting the date in the calendar on her phone and texting it to Alex. Apparently, John cannot be trusted with dates.

"So do I get one of these?" She asks as they get into her car in the parking lot, thumbing through the stack of pictures. She takes one without waiting for a response and sticks it up on the sun visor above her head.

"Of course you get one. I'm just glad I don't have to ask them for so many pictures anymore. They just give me them automatically."

"I'm sure they've dealt with patients like you before."

"Like me?"

"Yes, like you. Part of a werewolf pack with overprotective and extremely excited werewolves. You're lucky, you know that John?"

When this turned into a lecture, John has no idea. "I know I'm lucky."

"You have a lot of people who care about you. And who will help you and support you in raising this baby. Most people don't have quite as big of a support system that you do."

He knows that. He knows he got lucky, managing to work his way into a werewolf pack and gaining an even bigger family and all these people who would do anything for him. He doesn't take it for granted. And he doesn't plan on it either.



When Alex gets home from his appointment, after getting dinner with his mom and going to Target with her so she could buy him a few baby things, John finds himself alone.

He hasn't been alone in the house since he found out he was pregnant, and now it's a little unsettling. Jack is at work. Matt and Martin went to the gym. Sierra and Kennedy are out on a date and Zack has a night class. He plans on just going upstairs and getting some of his online coursework done, but then he passes by the closed door of the baby's nursery, which now has a cute little sign on the door with a quote that says so many of my smiles begin with you and it's cheesy as hell but Alex put it there so John has no complaints. The light is on inside the room and John can hear music playing. He didn't realize anybody was home, but now that he thinks about it, Tay went unaccounted for when he listed everyone's whereabouts in his head.

He opens the door to find her sitting on the floor in front of the dresser, folding clothes from a laundry basket at her feet. She looks up and smiles at John as he comes in, shutting the door behind him.

"I didn't know you were home," he says, sitting down in the rocking chair that was definitely not here last week. Alex probably bought it and had it delivered while John wasn't around. "What are you doing?"

"Just admiring my work," she laughs, gesturing at the walls of the room. They're painted a light yellow, which John helped with, and decorated with cute zoo animals and jungle animals that was all Tay's doing. It came out awesome and John kind of wants to take pictures and post them on a blog or something, just to show off how lucky he is. "And someone has to fold all the clothes we washed. That baby needs a cute outfit to come home from the hospital in."

"I was gonna fold them eventually," John mumbles, embarrassed at the fact that someone else had to think to do this before he did. He slides down to the floor to sit beside Tay and starts helping her fold the tiny baby clothes that they've accumulated over the past few months. There's no pinks or blues or anything that would be specifically for a boy or a girl. To be honest, John kind of likes it. Sometimes baby clothes are a little too much. He saw a skirt for a toddler that made up of glitter and sequins. If this baby is a girl, there's no way anything like that is finding it's way into the dresser or the closet.

"Have you come up with any names yet? I've asked Alex a million times and he just keeps telling me no."

"We really haven't," John admits. "I mean. We haven't thought a lot about it. Which is stupid, I guess, considering we have less than two months to go."

"I wouldn't worry too much. It'll come to you. Preferably sooner rather than later though. I want to get some personalized things."

"You can't unless you know the gender," John points out, holding a tiny pair of yellow socks in front of him. It terrifies him that they're going to fit on his baby's feet. They're so little. And fragile.

"No," she protests, "I'll just get one of each."

"That's a waste of money."

"Nothing's a waste of money when it comes to pack babies."

John is starting to realize that he is so, so screwed. His kid is going to be spoiled all day every day and then handed back to him at the end when it's cranky and tired and hungry for him to deal with. He's going to have to start laying down some rules.

Tay rests her head on his shoulder after a while, telling him about all the cool baby names that she read about on some website and John listens, kind of. He hears a few but he's mostly folding clothes and trying not to think about the fact that he's going to have something so tiny and so fragile and dependent on him in a matter of weeks. It's overwhelming, but he doesn't think of it in a bad way.



Martin is his babysitter the next day. Alex, who has a habit of calling at least three different members of his pack every day at various times just to see if their stories all line up, asks about how they are and how it's going at home without him but then he gets to what he really is calling about. John. And somehow, it is revealed to Alex that John was left alone for a good part of the day

John tried reasoning with him, tried telling him that Tay was with him for a while before the others got home, but Alex didn't care. He's made it pretty clear John needs at least three or more pack members looking out for his well-being. John gets it. Kind of. Like, he could trip and fall, or he could go into early labor, or he could get a paper cut from the newspaper. So many dramatic and devastating things. But that doesn't mean he needs to be followed around.

"We can wash your car next," Martin suggests, spraying the hose on the back windshield of his Alpha's car. "If you want. Or we can do something else."

It's the middle of February and John is sitting on the front steps watching a werewolf wash a car. He's wearing one of Alex's hoodies, hands shoved in the pockets as he taps his feet on the stone steps. He has no desire to wash his car. He barely drives it these days anyway. Doesn't need to when he basically has a werewolf entourage everywhere he goes and they do the driving for him.

The front door opens behind John as Martin is scrubbing the tires. It slams shut and John doesn't get the chance to turn around before Zack is plopping down beside him, ripping open a plastic bag.

"Look what I got!" He says happily, reaching into the bag and pulling out a pack of what looks like stickers. "Car window decals!"

"For who?" John asks, leaning over to see. "Are those stick figures?"

"Yes," Zack confirms, clearly pleased with himself.

They're the kind of car decals that lame parents put on the back window of their cars, the ones that tell everyone how many people are in their family. John counts the number of stickers, tiny little stick figures. There are ten of them. And one is smaller than all the rest, clearly meant to be a baby.

"I'm putting them on Alex's car, duh."

"He's going to murder you."

"I'm lucky he took Martin's car to visit his parents. Otherwise I don't think I would be able to do it without him killing me halfway through."

John watches as Zack walks down the steps to stand on the side of the car, carefully peeling the first sticker off the sheet. Martin is crouched next to him, still washing the back tire. He brings one hand up to rest on the back of Zack's knee and John can actually hear Zack hum in approval. So lame.

"I'm going to wait to put the baby on," Zack announces, pressing down on the second sticker to make sure it's sticking. "I'll do hers when she's born."

"Speaking of Peanut," Martin says, standing up and reaching for the hose. He's the only one who actually listens to John and doesn't assign the baby a gender. At least not to his face. John can appreciate that. "Zack, go get that thing out of my car."

He bumps his hips against Zack to get him going towards the car at the end of the driveway. Now that he's not standing in front of the car, John can see all the stickers on Alex's back window. They look cute there. And they'll look even cuter when there's a baby. But Alex will probably flip. He has rules for his car. No stickers allowed.

When Zack comes back, he's carrying a large box with a picture of a baby stroller on the side. He barely puts it down on the ground in front of John before John is crying. He will deny it for the rest of his life and he'll go to his grave claiming Zack and Martin are awful, horrible liars. But in reality, he's crying over an expensive stroller that is suitable for babies up to two years old and John has no idea why he deserves people like this in his life.



"I heard Martin and Zack made you cry," Matt informs him a week later, after John has all but forgotten the embarrassing moment on the front steps.

They're sitting in the frozen yogurt place, waiting for Alex to finish paying for theirs and to carry all three cups over to the table they've saved. Matt looks amused at just the thought of John crying over a gift. John wants to smack him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbles, "Don't upset me. I'll tell Alex to drop yours."

That shuts him up pretty quickly, at least until Alex graces them with his presence again. The Alpha hands John his cup, looking very unhappy about it, but he knows better than to deny John of the one craving he's had throughout the entire pregnancy.

"Have you guys thought of any names yet?" Matt asks for the millionth time. "I really am getting tired of asking."

"Got any suggestions?"

Matt lights up at the question. John has never seen him react so positively to anything ever. And he almost questions if Matt is possessed as he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a crumpled, worn out piece of paper. "In fact, I do," he states, pressing the paper down onto the table and flattening it out. "Do you want to hear the girl names or boy names first?"

Alex stares at him, eyebrows raised in amusement. "Um. Girls I guess."

And Matt has clearly been writing this list for a while now. John reads the names along with him, noting how some are crossed out and others are filled in on the sides after he's run out of room. Tay had told them that they shouldn't doubt that Matt is excited about the baby, that he just doesn't show it all the time. And here's the proof.

"Wait - I liked that one," Alex says suddenly, interrupting Matt. "Julia."

"Julia?" Both Matt and John asks at the same time.

John sighs. "It's nice, but I thought you would have tried going for something more...exotic?"

"Yeah," Matt agrees quickly, "Like. Juliana, maybe. Or Ariana. Or-"

"I like Julia."

If Alex likes Julia then that's what it'll be, John figures. He doesn't care about names all that much. He just wants a happy, healthy baby who won't despise him when she's eighteen and hates the name he gave her. Oh and great - there he goes assuming his baby is a girl. He hates his pack sometimes. Most times.

"Well I like Jackson for a boy," he says instead, "So there. We have names."

Matt looks ecstatic about it, about the fact that they've picked two names that were on his list - two names that were underlined on his list because he likes them best. Alex smiles at him, reaches out and ruffles his hair and Matt doesn't even pout about it like he normally would, grateful for the praise and approval from his Alpha.



"You look ridiculous."

Sierra doesn't appreciate that comment, judging by the fact she actually growls at him. John just shrugs. It's true. He's never understood the point of yoga, especially when the positions you're forced to be in make you look ridiculous. Like he told her. He's just being honest.

"You're supposed to be participating," she points out, moving back to a normal, cross-legged position. "This is important. You refused to go to any sort of prenatal class-"

"Because I am having a c-section and don't need to learn how to breathe and-"

"Therefore, I'm taking it upon myself to try and make you see the light. Prenatal yoga is fun! And healthy! Great for the baby!"

John rolls his eyes and stretches his legs out in front of him on the purple yoga mat that Sierra gave him. They're in the living room, with the couches and the coffee table pushed out of the way to give them more space, and the DVD Sierra bought on Amazon is playing on the tv. The women in the video are much, much more athletic and flexible then John will ever be, pregnant or not.

"This isn't so bad," Jack says next to him, legs spread in front of him as he leans forward to grab hold of his foot to stretch out his leg muscles. "I feel more relaxed already!"

"I don't," Grieco grunts on Jack's other side, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. "Yoga makes me angry."

"Everything makes you angry," Jack points out but he leans all the way over until he can press his lips against Grieco's. "Coffee makes you angry. Teenage girls make you angry. I'm pretty sure you glared at a sugar packet this morning."

It's no secret that Grieco hates his job at Starbucks, but the poor guy can't quit because it was the only job that ever called him back for an interview. He claims he tolerates it for the money but John is pretty sure even the money isn't going to be enough anymore. Apparently, there are only so many times one can make a vanilla bean frap without going crazy.

Grieco scoffs at the accusation, but he sits back up again anyway, bumping his shoulder against Jack's. "Shut up."

John does not participate in the yoga. He sits and watches and laughs when Jack loses his balence and falls over and bangs the back of his head on the coffee table behind him. Grieco panics, because he's new at this, and Jack bruses it off because by the time he's sitting up, the cut on the back of his head is healed and the blood on his fingers isn't even a concern anymore. That's when Sierra figures it's all hopeless and turns the DVD off and lets them watch Breaking Bad instead.

"I'm totally signing us up for real yoga classes," Sierra tells Jack as he pulls himself up into the couch beside her and John. "We will be the hottest ones by the time summer comes around."

Jack laughs, "I already am."

John is pressed up against the arm of the couch, head leaning on his hand as he watches the TV. Sierra is laying across his legs, Jack leaning against her and Grieco leaning against him. It can't possibly be comfortable but it doesn't matter much. The proximity is the important part. And when Alex comes home and finds them there, he smiles affectionately and sits down in front of the couch, leaning his head back against John. John absently runs his fingers through Alex's hair, ignores the sharp kicks his baby is giving him, and tries to picture this exact scene three months from now. It's going to be a lot different, he thinks.



Time had been moving so slowly all throughout John's pregnancy that his due date sneaks up on him. He wakes up on the morning of April 25th to Alex on the verge of a psychotic break and the entire pack downstairs cleaning the house from top to bottom. He's not sure what he expected, but now that he's witnessing it, he's not surprised.

"Do we have enough diapers?" Alex asks for the twelfth time since he became aware of John being awake. He looks like he's about to start counting the number of packs of diapers they have stacked in the closet in the hallway before John sighs loudly and stops him.

"There's this thing called a store. And you can buy things with money there," he says slowly, "And they sell diapers-"

"Shut up. I just want to be prepared."

"Well you're going overboard."

Alex seems to realize that yeah, he's being a little ridiculous. He finally nods and closes the closet door. "I'm just nervous," he says softly. "Today came faster than I thought it would."

"You think I'm not nervous? I'm hours away from being cut open and -"

"Okay, okay," Alex stops him, pushing him gently towards the bathroom. "We don't need details. Go shower and I'll make sure your bag is still packed and that my werewolves aren't going overboard on the cleaning."

"I don't see how that would be a bad thing. Let them clean so I don't have to."

Alex seems to consider it for a moment, looking at John with a fond expression. He pulls John back to him and presses his forehead against John's. "You ready?" He asks softly, fingers sliding down to his hips and squeezing tight.

John shrugs. "I think so. But I want to ask you something. It's kinda...kinda big."

"Yeah?"

"I've avoided asking you because I know how much you hate me talking about you biting me."

Alex catches on to what John is getting at, fingers tightening even more on his hips. "What exactly do you need to ask that concerns that?"

"I know I'm not at a high risk for this, but if anything happens, if anything goes wrong, I need you to promise me. Promise me you won't let me die."

Alex's breath hitches at the word. "Don't talk like that," he snaps, pressing even closer. "Don't even - that's not going to happen. That's - you're going to be fine."

John knows that - knows that his chances of not being fine are pretty low, like his doctor told him. But he can't help but worry about the what-if's. "I probably will be, but you don't know. Anything can happen and if something goes wrong, I can't...I need you to bite me."

"Of course I - yeah. Yeah, I promise. Do you really think I wouldn't do anything I had to do to help you? John-"

John shakes his head and wraps his arms around Alex's shoulders. "I just needed to hear it," he says, "I know you have a serious aversion to it but I also know you'll keep a promise."

Alex's hands move to his lower back, pushing him impossibly closer. "If you even think I would let you leave me with a baby and a pack to handle all on my own, you're crazier than I thought."

He'd been meaning to bring it up for a while now, just hadn't had the guts to do it. But now that it's done (last minute but of course John procrastinated this long) he feels more relieved than he has in weeks. And a lot better about becoming a dad in less than twenty-four hours.

"You're going to be fine," Alex promises. And John can believe it.



John is fine, and Alex doesn't need to consider biting him once. And maybe John is slightly disappointed by that, by the way his doctor raves about how well the procedure went and how healthy the baby is, because he knows that he really will never have a better chance of Alex giving him what he wants. But then his doctor is asking him if he feels strong enough to hold the baby and John can't even think about anything else as Alex helps him, puts their baby in his arms and tells him how proud he is and how amazing John is. Everything is happening faster than John can keep up with.

"Jackson, right?" Alex asks him, leaning over the side of the hospital bed, one hand reaching up to push John's hair out of his eyes. He's impossibly close and his nose bumps against John's cheek and John can only nod. "How does Jackson Tyler sound to you?"

John nods again, but then he registers Alex's words and realizes how out of it he's been, how the drugs have prevented him from actually acknowledging it. "Wait - a boy?"

Alex laughs loudly and the baby in John's arms squirms, eyes barely opening to look up at whoever just made the noise. "Yeah. Everyone's gonna be pissed. Grieco just won three hundred bucks."

John doesn't care about that anyway. He's a little (a lot) distracted by the way the baby widens his eyes as Alex speaks, as if he's heard his voice before and he just knows. He's five minutes old and he knows who his Alpha is and he knows Alex's voice and John can't think about Grieco or three hundred dollars or the fact that every single person in their pack was convinced that this baby would be a girl.

"He's - Alex. He knows-"

"I know," Alex interrupts him, "But don't let that fool you. He was screaming his lungs off until I got close to you. You're the one he really knows."

It was barely even a minute ago but John can't remember it happening. He can't remember much at all, now that he tries. He remembers coming to the hospital. He remembers being admitted and put in this room and he remembers Alex smiling at him as a nurse explained the procedure for the tenth time. But after that it's all kind of blurry and the next thing he can remember is this. Right now. And he's pretty sure he's alright with that.

"The medication is making everything all a little hazy," Alex tells him and John wonders not for the first time if he was speaking his thoughts out loud. "It'll wear off soon."

Now that that's explained - kind of, anyway - John feels a little less overwhelmed. He nods at Alex, acknowledging that he understands and isn't that worried about it, and then looks down. The baby is staring at him now, eyes half open and the tiny little fingers on his left hand twitching. John is quick to put his finger there, to let Jackson's fingers wrap around his.

"Hi Jackson," he says softly, "I'm sorry I let them call you a girl."

Jackson doesn't have much hair, but what he does have is dark and thin and his eyes are blue. He looks nothing like him and nothing like Alex and John kind of finds that amusing. "Is my mom here?" He asks, looking back up at Alex. But Alex isn't even listening. He's smiling down at Jackson, looking like Jackson is the most amazing thing he's ever seen. That's pretty much accurate, and John finds it adorable.

"He looks like you," Alex mumbles, reaching out and brushing his fingers against Jackson's arm. The baby squirms again, letting out a soft cry that John doesn't even know how to interpret.

"What does that mean?" He asks, feeling incredibly dumb.

Alex keeps smiling, reaching out again and lifting the baby out of John's arms. "Hold him like this," he says and he lays him against John's chest, so his head is on John's shoulder. "He's a werewolf. He's going to need close contact."

"I'm so screwed."

"Nah. I'll teach you anything you need to know."

"Promise?"

"Promise."