Chapter Text
When they’d accidentally bonded into a pack, there had of course been talk of children. Every Beta woman and Omega in Will’s birth pack had had their first kids before twenty, and almost always multiples. Will’s entire reason for leaving his home pack was to avoid that fate.
But the Alphas of Pack Richmond were nothing like his home pack or the ones his family would have chosen for him. In the end, he agreed that if enough money to raise children well, with a nanny, was put into a trust, he would go through two pregnancies starting when he was twenty-nine. Any Alpha who didn't get a kid and any who did for that matter, were welcome to go find another Omega or bearing woman if they were that desperate for more offspring.
Trent pointed out that he already had Beatrix from his first marriage, and was always a little embarrassed that he’d ended up in a pack with a bunch of footballers and a kitman, all of them at least twenty years younger. However, as the strongest Alpha in the pack, the process of breaking away would have required even more therapy and medication than any of the others. And worst of all, it would fuck up Will’s neurochemistry for a good long while as well.
They’d been planning this since Will’s 29th birthday. They’d gone to the best specialist in London, had Will’s IUD removed, checked his fertility, and asked him over and over if he was ready and if he was sure. They’d written that pack contract when they were all younger.
Will went back to his old bonding therapist, Dr. Bevan, who was now considered a world expert on spontaneous bondings in forced proximity situations. They rehashed a lot of old trauma around his birth pack just to make sure he was saying yes for himself and not because this was what he’d literally been raised and bred to do.
Then he got on a plane all the way to California to track down Ted, who was in the middle of a contract with the U.S. Women’s team.
And bless Ted for taking him out for tacos and talking about what it was like coming off of the extra strong suppressants that made him closer to a Beta. How nasty the morning sickness was. The shame he’d felt when he hadn’t been able to nurse, and they’d had to rely on the fact that his ex-wife’s sympathy hormones kicked in. The blazing fight they’d had when he’d wanted to go back on the same suppressants to the point where she asked him if he was secondary trans and how honestly, he still didn’t have a solid answer for that. Most of the world thought he was a Beta. And how much he wished he’d had the support of a pack, but despite being probably the oldest form of human grouping, packs were looked on a bit sideways in Kansas. How he still thinks if he’d had a pack, if his father had an Alpha, that could smell how much pain he was in, and cared, then maybe he’d have gotten some proper help. He also made it clear just how much hard work kids were, and he’d only had the one, but he loved Henry more than anything.
Will had flown back to London and knocked on Roy’s door with the same questions. Not that Roy had kids, but he’d half raised Phoebe. Roy had given some replies about kids being hard work and told him that if he was feeling forced, he had a cricket bat and was not above breaking kneecaps, even of his own players. And Keeley had dirt on everyone.
Will’s last stop was to a village in the ass end of nowhere with only one notable feature and that was the only Catholic Omega convent left in England. He knocked on the door and asked to see the Father Superior.
“Brother Thaddeus.”
“Reverend Father,” Will said as he sat down on the hard chair across the large desk. “And it’s Will now.”
“You are looking well.”
Will took a deep breath. “I’m bonded to seven Alphas. Six footballers and a writer. We’ve spent the last four years enjoying each other in every way possible.” Brother Giles, the Father Superior, didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. The nerdier of the brothers had always called him a Vulcan. “But I’m twenty-nine now and some of them are close to wrapping up their football careers, so we’re talking about trying for children during my next heat.”
Still no reaction. “Is there a reason you came all this way to tell me you have lived a life of debauchery. With footballers.”
Will hadn’t been sure even as the previous words were coming out of his mouth. But now, just in this moment, he was. “Light a candle for me. My line has a habit of throwing triplets, so two pregnancies, six babies, one for each Alpha. That’s the goal.”
“You said you had seven Alphas.”
“Trent has a daughter from a previous relationship, and he’s perfectly happy to step aside here.”
Brother Giles nodded. “I will light a candle for you.”
“Thank you.” Will got up and made it to the door.
“I’ll also light a candle for McAdoo’s ankle. Richmond is going to need him on defence next week.”
Will whipped around.
“You think I don’t recognise one of my nuns running water bottles to footballers. With what they make, you better be getting a nanny.”
“Already interviewing.”