Chapter 93 : What Comes Next – Planning the Unplanned
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
Darcy waves her hands, voice racing ahead of her thoughts. "Okay—so, uh… this might not be… the main topic, but I've got to ask. I mean… how the hell are MJ and May even surprised they got pregnant?" Her words tumble faster than she can think. "Like… seriously. You're not on the pill, right? No contraception. And, I mean… the volume. The sheer, uh… cum. The way you fill us… our vaginas… our wombs… every single time. How are they shocked? With that much coming out of you, the odds were… obvious."
Her eyes widen as she realizes the full weight of what she just said. She freezes, hands mid-air, face flushing. "Oh—wow. Okay. That was… uh… graphic. Super direct. Science! Totally science!"
I can't stop a small, amused smirk. "Darcy… you really have zero filter, huh?"
She shrugs, flustered but defiant. "Filter? Please. Reality's this… blunt. I'm just stating the facts. Statistically speaking, with that kind of… output… getting pregnant shouldn't be a surprise."
MJ exhales, cheeks warming, and shakes her head. "Well… it surprised me because I was on the pill."
May nods, a little stiff, eyes flicking between Darcy and me. "Yeah. Same here. I wasn't expecting it because, uh… contraception."
Darcy blinks, eyebrows shooting up. "Wait—both of you were on…?" Her voice is a mix of disbelief and scientific curiosity. "But that… that shouldn't happen! That's—how… statistically improbable!"
Gwen leans back, crossing her arms with a small, wry smile. "MJ was on the pill. I assumed the pregnancy was either a minor slip, a missed dose, or some rare statistical anomaly." Her gaze slides briefly to MJ, softening. "As for May… I thought she wasn't relying on it—or at least didn't think she needed to—given her age."
I watch May shift, a little tighter now. The truth is… both of them were on the pill. They had been. Somehow it hadn't stopped anything. My mind clicks a subtle, unsettling rhythm.
Darcy isn't letting up. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Are you telling me—both of you were actively on contraception? The pill? No gaps? Nothing? And still…?" She gestures vaguely, all speed and energy. "Cum. Womb. Fertility. It… it worked anyway?"
MJ sighs, tilting her head, a little exasperated. "Yes. We were careful. Pills, schedules. That's why it was a surprise. That's the whole point."
May nods in quiet agreement. "I trusted it would work. And it… didn't. That's why I was caught off guard."
Darcy leans forward, eyes wide, scribbling the logic in her mind. "Okay. So no mistakes, no missed doses, and yet… bam. Pregnant. Wow. That's… that's insane."
I feel a shift in the room, the tension and confusion mingling with Darcy's relentless curiosity. And then it hits me—slowly, a cold calculation running through my mind. The timing of both conceptions… it roughly matches the period just after my Seed of Potential ability was upgraded.
A quiet realization sinks in. Maybe… just maybe… this isn't random. Maybe my power isn't just about potential, about abilities.
Darcy, oblivious to the storm of realization forming in my head, continues peppering questions, rapid-fire, raw and visual. "So, seriously, both of you were on the pill? No exceptions? No nothing? The timing, the… Alex… this is insane."
I let her words wash over me, my mind working through the numbers, the timelines, the biological impossibility—and the unnerving possibility that my own power has quietly done something more than I'd ever expected.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to feel it settle.
"I think I know how it's possible," I say finally.
Every head turns toward me.
"I'm not saying this is certain," I add, measured. "But it's coherent. And it fits the timing."
Darcy straightens instantly. MJ stills. May's fingers tighten in her lap.
"I'm a mutant," I say simply.
That lands first.
MJ's eyes widen. "You're—what?"
Darcy freezes mid-lean. "Wait. Hold on. Like—actual mutant? X-gene, powers, that kind of mutant?"
Her brain is already racing ahead, I can see it.
May blinks—and then just… freezes.
Not shocked exactly. Not offended either. More like her brain stalls, caught between too many implications colliding at once. She doesn't speak. She doesn't move. She just looks at me, clearly unsure what reaction is even appropriate.
Gwen does react—but not the way the others do.
Her eyebrows lift slightly, not in alarm, but in surprise. Not at the content. At the timing. At the fact that I'm saying it out loud, here, like this. She glances at me, searching my face for a half-second, then lets it go.
I don't soften it.
"One of my powers is sex-related," I say plainly. "More specifically—my sperm."
That does it.
Darcy lets out a sharp sound halfway between a laugh and a choke. "Oh. Oh wow. Of course it does."
MJ's breath catches, heat creeping back into her expression. May looks torn between embarrassment and intense focus.
"The ability enhances my semen," I say, not sugarcoating it. "Not in volume—that's just a side effect—but in function. It has the capacity to improve the physique and the potential of the person who receives it."
Darcy's eyes go wide. "You're telling me your sperm is… what, an upgrade?"
"Essentially," I answer. "It increases baseline physical and biological potential. It's gradual, cumulative. And"—I pause—"one of the side effects might be to make me extremely fertile."
The room goes quiet again—but this time, it's a different kind of silence.
MJ's brows knit together slowly. "Extremely fertile… as in—"
"As in increasing the probability of conception," I continue. "Even when other systems are meant to prevent it. Not because they failed, but because the biological conditions were… pushed past the norm."
Darcy lets out a low, incredulous laugh. "Okay. Wow. So it's not that the pill didn't work. It's that it never stood a chance."
May's fingers curl into the fabric of her skirt. "That would explain why it didn't feel like an accident," she says quietly. "There was no sign. No warning. Just… results."
Gwen exhales slowly, thoughtful rather than shocked. "So the pregnancies weren't the consequence of a mistake," she says. "They were the consequence of a change."
"Yes," I reply. "And the timing matches. Both conceptions happened shortly after the ability evolved. Became stronger."
Darcy stares at me like she's watching a thesis write itself in real time. "So you're a mutant with fertility-enhancing biology, whose body basically turns every reproductive variable up to eleven."
"That's one way to phrase it," I say dryly.
MJ presses her lips together, absorbing it. "So I didn't do anything wrong."
"No," I say immediately. "Neither of you did."
May nods faintly, relief mixing with lingering unease. "That… actually helps," she admits. "Knowing it wasn't carelessness. Or denial."
Darcy drags a hand down her face. "I need to recalibrate my entire understanding of 'safe.'" She looks at Gwen. "How are you still standing so calmly?"
Gwen shrugs lightly. "Because I already knew he was a mutant. And because this explains more than it complicates."
She looks at me again, steady. "It also means we need to adjust going forward."
"Yes," I agree. "This isn't just about explaining what happened. It's about understanding the rules we're actually operating under."
I let the words settle for half a second.
Then I turn my head.
Slowly.
Toward Darcy.
She notices immediately. Of course she does. She straightens a little, squints at me, already suspicious. "Why are you looking at me like that," she asks. "That's not a comforting look. That's a 'math just finished mathing' look."
I don't soften it. There's no point.
"Darcy," I say calmly, "statistically speaking—given what we've just established—there's a very real chance you're pregnant too."
Silence.
Absolute. Surgical. Silence.
Her mouth opens.
Closes.
"…What."
"I'm not saying it's confirmed," I add, measured. "It's way too early to test. Days, maybe more. But if my fertility spiked to the point where standard contraception is ineffective—" I gesture vaguely between us, clinical despite the subject "—then the timing lines up."
Darcy stares at me like I just switched languages mid-sentence.
"You're congratulating me," she says slowly, "on a hypothetical pregnancy."
"Yes."
"With mutant hyper-fertile upgrade sperm."
"That's an uncharitable phrasing," I reply.
She blinks again. Then laughs. Once. Sharp. Disbelieving. "Oh my god. Oh my god." She drags both hands through her hair. "I make one joke about cum logistics and suddenly I'm in the womb club?"
Gwen doesn't miss a beat.
"Well," she says dryly, arms crossed, "at least you're consistent. Even your sarcasm has consequences."
Darcy shoots her a look. "Oh come on. This is not the time to say 'I told you so.'"
"I didn't," Gwen replies, unbothered. "I implied it."
The tension spikes again—voices overlapping, MJ trying to say something, May half-laughing half-stressing, Darcy still oscillating between disbelief and gallows humor.
I lift a hand.
"Okay."
It's not loud. It doesn't need to be.
"Everyone—stop. For a second."
The room quiets, not instantly, but enough. Eyes turn toward me. I take a breath, steady, deliberate.
"We've just uncovered a lot of information. Some of it personal. Some of it… unprecedented." A pause. "No one here is expected to have a clean emotional response to that in under five minutes."
I look around the group, meeting each gaze in turn.
"So let's slow this down. Breathe. Take the time to actually assimilate what we know instead of reacting to what it implies."
Silence settles. Not comfortable, but controlled.
When I'm sure everyone's grounded enough, I continue.
"Now," I say, shifting the focus back where it needs to be, "we need to talk about the part that isn't hypothetical."
My eyes move to MJ. Then to May.
"MJ. May."
Their attention sharpens.
"You're both pregnant. That's the core reality. Everything else—my powers, Darcy's situation, the biology—matters, but it's secondary."
I clasp my hands loosely in front of me.
"The real question is this: what do we do now?"
Not what should be done.
Not what's expected.
"What do you want, what do you need, and how do we organize ourselves around that?"
I let the words hang, giving them space.
Then I turn slightly, orienting myself toward MJ.
"You said earlier that you preferred to keep the baby," I say evenly. "Is that still how you feel?"
She doesn't answer right away—but when she does, her voice is steadier than before.
"Yes."
No hesitation this time. No defensive edge. She straightens a little, shoulders back.
"Yes," she repeats. "I'm scared. I won't pretend I'm not. But… I'm sure. More than I was before." Her eyes flick briefly toward Gwen, then Darcy, then back to me. "Knowing I'm not alone changes things."
I nod once.
"Okay."
No drama. No celebration. Just acknowledgment.
"Then the next step isn't debating the choice," I continue. "It's dealing with the consequences of it."
I shift slightly, adopting the same tone I use when planning operations—not cold, but structured.
"First: the pregnancy itself. Appointments. Medical follow-up. Questions from doctors. From your parents." A pause. "What you tell them. When. How much."
MJ swallows, but she listens.
"Second: daily life. Fatigue. Limitations. How that affects your studies. Your schedule. Your independence."
I'm not pushing for answers. I make that clear by continuing before she can interrupt.
"These aren't things you need to decide now. They're things we need to anticipate."
I glance toward May briefly, then back to MJ.
"For you specifically: you're a student. You live with your parents. At some point, the pregnancy won't be abstract anymore. It will be visible. That changes the dynamic whether we like it or not."
I let that settle, then continue.
"And after the birth—childcare. Do you pause your studies temporarily? Do you continue and we find another solution? Family help, external care, internal organization." A small exhale. "None of those options are wrong. But all of them require planning."
Then I turn fully toward May.
"The questions are similar for you," I say, adjusting seamlessly. "But the variables aren't the same."
She meets my gaze, already braced.
"You're working. You're independent. And you have Peter living with you."
That lands heavier. She exhales through her nose.
"A baby doesn't just change your routine," I continue. "It affects his too. Space. Time. Energy. Emotional balance."
I pause deliberately.
"That doesn't mean it's a problem. It means it's a factor."
I look between the two of them now, my tone firm but grounded.
"I'm not asking either of you to solve your future tonight. I'm putting these questions on the table because they're the right questions—and ignoring them doesn't make them disappear."
A beat.
"We'll take this step by step. Together. With room to adjust."
I stop there.
Not because there's nothing more to say—
—but because this is the point where thinking has to breathe before it turns into decisions.