Your name is Lily and you're twenty and knocked up.

Seriously, what the fuck?

You joined the Air Force straight out of high school, something your then boyfriend (probably your fucking husband, once your dad figures this out) really didn't take so well. There was a big fight with Nerf gun sniping and passive aggressive post it notes, but in the end, he more or less gave up and let you do what you wanted. Cute guy, no self-esteem and bends to your will at the first sign of trouble. Just your kind of guy.

But apparently he got you fucking knocked up during your last leave, so you can't be deployed for three motherfucking months after you pop this sucker out. You're going to be home for almost a year. Almost a whole fucking year. And your parents are going to get all up in your fucking face and his parents are going to get all up in your fucking face and your friends are going to get all up in your fucking face and your siblings are going to get all up in your fucking face and-

Never mind.

You ain't got time for this bullshit right now.

Right now, you've got to let that idiot know that he knocked you up because wow, the one time you forget protection, he gets on it like Donkey Kong. Little bastard. You've got half a mind to slap him across the face with a fucking loaded machine gun, but that's probably just the hormones speaking. No, actually, that's how you feel normally, so the hormones must just be making it worse, since you usually only take it as far as a nail studded two by four.

You are just so fucking done with this bullshit, so you try to dial his number and end up calling motherfucking Morgan of all people.

"'Sup, shitbag?"

"Lily. What seems to be the problem this time?" He seems so fucking bored and you just want to smack him. Yup, definitely hormones.

"So, your shitty ass of a brother-in-law knocked me up. Congrats, you're going to be a motherfucking uncle in six months or whatever. Don't get too excited, can't have you pissing your diaper again."

"Lily..." He sighs and goes silent for a minute before speaking again. "I'd offer my sincerest congratulations, but you don't seem too... 'down with it'."

"Dude, I'm stuck in this shithole for a year. Nobody would be too happy about that."

"You have a point. Regardless, congrats, sis. I'm on your side." You can hear him nod, forgetting that he's on the phone instead of talking face to face like always, and it's enough to bring a smile to your face.

"See you later, shithead."

"You too."

He puts down the phone and you feel a little better for having talked to him. He's always been the good one of the three of you. He claims he's terrible at comforting people, but it's why he and Faith get along so well. One point's their mutual exasperation with Dill Pickles, but they both make people feel all fuzzy and perfect and all that bullshit. It's cute and terrifying at once.

Well, all you've got to do is let your idiot boyfriend know about this newest problem and probably rake up the criticism from Alex and Karina (let alone Dillon and Nina- holy fuck, they're going to get pissed). This is going to be great. And you're not even thinking about pushing this baby out yet.

...Oh boy.