Jack is pissed. Actually, pissed doesn't even begin to cover it. At first she'd tried to deny it, pretend it wasn't happening. At first... at first. It was just her winter coat growing it. She was just out of shape. She must have eaten something bad. All of the things going on in her head, most of them for one reason and one reason only-- denial. So much denial. It couldn't be. She refused to believe it. Hell, it shouldn't be possible this time of year. Fuck. The antihero stormed back to the scene of the crime, unsure if he'd even still be here. If not, she'd simply have to track him down. Track him down and saddle him with the burden that she refused to carry with her. Jack would make a horrible parent, even if she did stick around. There was no reason for her to. This was his fault, and he had to do something about it. She could smell him. Jack stuck her head through the doorway of the crypt, hoping he was still inside. She caught her breath before shouting for him. "Cunt, bastard, asshole, this is all your fault," and with that, Jack sat on her haunches in the doorway. He had some shit to answer for.

The crypt had proven its worth as an excellent place to hole up for the winter, and he was loathe to abandon it for the northern reaches quite yet. While he was looking forward to a winter spent in the ancient redwood forest, he was taking his time accumulating supplies for the trip and the frigid season as a whole. It was the only reason he was so easy to find, for once. So when the sudden outburst of a familiar feminine voice from somewhere behind him. A rough grunt of surprise forced its way past his hoarse vocal chords, and he lifted his head to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was Jack O'Malley darkening his doorway again. His lumbering bulk turned slowly in the confined space, but he caught a whiff of her scent as a breeze from far outside disturbed the stagnant air. Uh oh. She hadn't returned after their fated night in this very alcove at the season's outset. If he wanted to wave away the changes in her scent as a mix-up or a coincidence... well. The swell of her flanks as she parked her ass right in the doorway to his little cave was undeniable. She looked like.. well, like she had unwittingly ended up carrying Aeris children. Which was to say that she looked like hell, and probably wasn't fit to be moving more than a few steps at a time. Against his better judgement, his features twisted into a grimace and a short breath hissed between his teeth. "Ah," he coughed the syllable out awkwardly, and cleared his throat hastily to resume the sentence. "I'm.. sorry?" Deion offered the apology up like a prayer, hoping she would let him survive this encounter. "I assume parenthood is not on your list of life goals, is it?" he asked quietly, taking a half step closer to her pale blonde form. He knew better than to try his luck, the glower that pinned him down was downright murderous. While panic flared in his chest, he couldn't help scanning over her flanks and belly. Gods, she was about to pop, whether it was actually time or not. "I don't know what to say, Jack. How can I fix this?" gruff vocals were uncharacteristically soft, brows pinched together. He could only hope that she didn't ask him to abort the pregnancy- it was a bit late for that. Spirits help him, there was no way to have prepared for any of this. He was, indeed, a bastard for doing this. ""

The pain in her sides rises up, nearly unbearable. It hurts-- why does it hurt this way? There was something shifting, and around the edges, her vision blurry. What the fuck? "What the fuck," the words were rough in her throat. Sandpaper, not quite dying on her tongue but christ why did it hurt so much. Refusing to show weakness in the face of danger, Jack grit her teeth. She had to. Still, there was something scary about the pain that racked her system. She'd take a concussion over this any day. "It fucking hurts," she was nearly nauseous from the pain. A whimper managed to escape, uncharacteristic as it was. "Just make it stop hurting, man." Jack was woozy where she sat now, staggering deeper into the crypt. She tossed her head as she did, not wanting him to come too close and still... and still. Who knew with her, in a moment like this. She only barely made it to the pile of furs before the fire.

Before she could let loose the tirade that seemed to be forming on the tip of her tongue, Jack flinched. A muttered expletive teetered before it fell from her maw, and she seemed dazed. Concern flitted over the celestial titan's features as he instinctively lurched a step closer. Carmine gaze drifted to her flanks, searching for the telltale shudder of contractions. He didn't smell the fluid of her water breaking quite yet, but that would not be far behind the first few contractions- if she was labouring. The golden fae admitted that she was in pain, the sentence punctuated by a quiet whine from deep in her chest. With an uncharacteristic tone of defeat, Jack demanded he make the pain stop. She waddled past him, giving the giant a chance to look her over up close. The subtle flutter of the muscles around her middle confirmed his suspicions, and he knew it was time to get to work. All thoughts of what he was supposed to be doing in the future were set aside, and he adjusted the furs around Jack's labouring form. Bedside manner was not his specialty, so when she tossed her head to try and ward him off he mostly ignored it. "We can argue after the little ones are born," he grunted as he trundled towards his stores to search for any helpful herbs. He wasn't in the business of dealing with births, so he rarely kept the necessary herbs on hand. The common ones were easy enough, they had multiple uses, but he knew for a fact that his trillium was nearly gone. This would be a rough birth, for sure. He turned away from his stock with a few parcels of herbs, setting them down near Jack's head. "Is this your first litter?" he asked softly, keeping his voice level while he unwrapped the little bundles. Yep, next to no trillium on hand. He'd have to make it work. With practiced ease, he slid a wooden bowl out from under a heavy fur behind him and tipped a skin of water into it. He'd soak the alfalfa before forcing it into Jack's mouth, so it wasn't so tough to chew. "I can't give you much for the pain, even if I had it. You need to feel the contractions in order to know when to push, once the time is right." Deion explained with the even-keeled ease of a practiced healer. He lifted his eyes to her face, searching for a glimmer of understanding behind the pain that glazed over her eyes. ""

"I'll argue, fuck," Jack struggled to catch her breath. "I'll argue the whole fucking time, shit," a grumble and a growl as another jolt of pain sparked through her system. "If I fucking see fit." And she did see fit. The arguing and the complaining, along with a near ceaseless string of foul words were likely going to be a theme for the duration. Jack's head was spinning. "First, and never-- fuck" she panted, curled up on her side. "Never again! Fuck this, and fuck you!" Her protests were getting weaker as the pain increased. She whimpered once more, a bit more softly this time. It seemed that the room around her was spinning. If there had been any food in her system, it was likely she would have thrown up by now. Maybe there was grace left in all this, but fuck it was a bad time. Blinding pain, and then what? "Son of a fuck, there's a puppy." That's what came next. Christ, and how many more would there be? There would really be no telling at this point, so all she could do was... this.

Unsurprisingly, Jack was more than eager to continue their verbal spar regardless of her physical pain. Something to be said for her tenacity, at the very least. He hummed absently or grunted quietly in response to each new string of creative curses, busying himself with the process of aiding in the children's birth. Smoothing a massive paw over her flank, he found the steady pulse of ever strengthening contractions along her belly. As her vehement cursing gave way to the announcement that she was a first time mother, and had never intended to be one in the first place, he frowned lightly. Well, that didn't work out well for her now did it? Best keep those thoughts to himself for now. He could hear the strength of her rage fading, and he glanced up. "Don't hold back on my account," he drawled with forced ease. She couldn't falter right now, so goading her into a fresh bout of rage would keep her going through the labour. Contractions getting stronger, and he could feel something stirring just beneath the muscles. He waited patiently, to see if she handled it herself. Pale eyes all but rolled back into her skull as instinct took hold. In the confined quarters of the little alcove, the sodden mass of fur that was forced out onto the stone floor made enough noise to echo all around them. And there was Jack, lucid enough to be cursing again. "Yes, there is a puppy." the titan's voice was much quieter now, practiced paws scooping up the tiny bundle of colourful fur and clearing the tacky fluids from its face. An outraged caterwauling quickly filled the little cavern, and he settled the angry infant at Jack's belly. There was no way he could deny his role now, not with all of those brilliant colours already on full display across the pup's coat. "You're not done yet, I'm afraid." he told the fae, already tracking the powerful ripple of her flanks as her body resumed its work tirelessly. "You can do it, and you can keep telling me I'm a fool while you do." he added with a half-hearted smile, leaning back on his haunches to free up his forepaws to keep working. ""

"You're such a bitch," the string of nasty language was unrelenting. All of the rude words in the book, every last one of them, was spilling from Jack. After the first of the puppies, the next seemed to come easier. The first made way for the second, and then every one after that... fuck. "Fuck!" She can't help it. The pirate had been in her fair share of fights, in scrapes and tumbles and tussles. She'd fought men twice her size, and things far worse than wolves. In all of her days, though, nothing had been quite as painful as this. Something coming out of her insides. The nausea was terrible, too. Frankly all of it was terrible. "This is bullshit," she panted, managing to clear some of the fluids and other assorted gunk off the second pup. "Absolute fucking bullshit," the pain did not relent, and there would be a third squishy pile of fur joining them soon. "Why, why is this... fuck!" None of these were small puppies, much to her chagrin. How did his bloodline make it this far being this big? How and why, christ alive. She whimpered, panted. Another puppy, and her head was spinning. She wasn't all the way conscious by the time the fourth came into the world, screaming like a goddamn banshee as she was. That one, despite being the most muted in color, had to be the loudest. Jack didn't have the energy to fight the sound or anything else. Just let them her scream, as Jack too, was screaming internally. This had been a mistake, but she was here now, and she'd done what she could. All four seemed to be breathing, and with Deion's help she managed to have them cleaned up. They were all breathing, and none of them had come out deformed or otherwise ill. All Jack could do now was rest her weary head on her paws and pass the fuck out.