Escaping Evil Through Time

Chapter 11: Jojo's baby dreams

meanwhile The next day Ryan was in for a surprise The next day started differently at our place.

Jojo’s contractions were coming closer now, each one carving itself across her belly like a searing brand. I could see the pain in her face, the way she clenched her jaw and tried to breathe through it, and it sent panic straight through my chest. I paced the room, unable to stay still, my thoughts racing faster than my feet.

The car still wouldn’t start. Of course it wouldn’t. And Jojo was going into labor a week early.

I grabbed my phone and called Kali, my hands shaking as I told her everything at once—that Jojo was in labor, that the car was dead, that I didn’t think I could get her to the hospital in time.

“Ryan, calm down,” Kali said, steady as ever. “I’m teleporting over now.”

I ended the call just as another contraction hit. Jojo looked up at me, breathless.

“What did she say?”

“Kali’s on her way,” I muttered, my voice tight with worry.

She groaned, clutching her abdomen. “I wish this would hurry up.”

And then the world shifted.

One second we were in our living room, and the next the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air. Bright white walls snapped into focus. Machines beeped softly nearby.

We were in the hospital. I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs. “How—?”

Kali wasn’t there.She hadn’t teleported us. She hadn’t even arrived yet. It was as if Jojo and I had simply appeared.

A moment later, the air rippled beside us and Kali materialized—only to blink in surprise before disappearing again, reappearing moments later in the waiting area instead of the room.

My hand found Jojo’s, instinctively grounding both of us. She squeezed back, and despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the impossible—I smiled. Because somehow, I knew. This was only the beginning.

As the nurses moved around us, I became aware of something else, something beneath the surface. The air itself seemed to hum, crackling with quiet power. Even the staff carried faint, almost imperceptible auras, as though this hospital was more than it appeared. This wasn’t just a place of medicine. It was a nexus—where the veil between worlds thinned. Our child was about to be born into it. The doctor approached—a woman with eyes that held the wisdom of ages and a smile that hinted at secrets untold. When she touched Jojo, I felt it too: a surge of energy, warm and resonant, awakening something deep inside me.

This wasn’t just a birth. It was a revelation. As our baby’s first cries filled the room, emotion hit me full force. Awe. Love. Fear. Hope—all tangled together. Our life had changed forever. The journey ahead would be long, filled with wonders and dangers we couldn’t yet imagine. But standing there, holding Jojo’s hand, I knew one thing with absolute certainty:

We weren’t just parents now. We were something more. And our story had only just begun. When suddenly Jojo gasped and bolted upright in bed. Her heart hammered wildly as she sucked in a breath, one hand flying to her belly, the other clutching the sheets. Morning light spilled softly through the curtains, painting the room in gold instead of sterile white. No beeping machines. No humming air. No doctor with ancient eyes. Just home. “Ryan,” she said, breathless. Ryan stirred beside her, already half awake. “Hey—hey. What’s wrong?” Jojo blinked, grounding herself in the familiar—his voice, the creak of the mattress, the distant sound of Ruby moving around in the kitchen. She pressed her palm against her bump. The baby kicked, solid and real.

“I had the most… intense dream,” she said. “I mean—lucid. I could feel everything.” Ryan pushed himself up on one elbow, concern creasing his brow. “Another labor dream?” She let out a shaky laugh. “Labor, yeah. But not just that. We were in the hospital—only we didn’t get there normally. We just… appeared. Like we crossed over.”

Ryan exhaled slowly. “That sounds terrifying.” “It was,” she admitted. “But also beautiful. Like something big was happening. Like the baby was… important.” She searched his face. “It felt real, Ryan. Too real.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Pregnancy brain mixed with stress. You’ve been carrying a lot lately.” “Maybe,” she said, though part of her wasn’t convinced.

From the hallway came Ruby’s voice. “Dad! We’re gonna be late!” Ryan groaned softly and swung his legs out of bed. “Duty calls.” He paused, squeezing Jojo’s hand. “We’ll talk more later, okay?” She nodded. “Okay. Drive safe.”

After the door closed and the house settled into quiet again, Jojo lay back for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The dream lingered—sharp, vivid, humming just under her skin. She reached for her phone. Kali answered on the second ring. “Morning, bump buddy.”

Jojo smiled despite herself. “I need to tell you something before I convince myself I imagined it.” “Ooooh,” Kali said. “That tone means details.” Jojo told her everything—the labor, the sudden shift, the hospital that felt wrong and right all at once, the overwhelming sense that it meant something more than a dream. When she finished, there was a brief pause.

“…Okay,” Kali said slowly. “That was not a normal pregnancy dream.” “Thank you,” Jojo said. “I thought I was losing it.”

“Nope. You’re officially upgraded from ‘vivid dreamer’ to ‘possibly brushed another layer of reality.’” Kali cleared her throat. “We’re coming over.” “We?” “Me and the girls. They’ve been asking about you anyway.”

Less than an hour later, the front door opened to familiar chaos—laughter, backpacks thudding to the floor, Kali’s presence filling the room like sunlight. Kali wrapped Jojo in a hug, careful of the bump. “How’s my favorite glowing goddess?”

“Still glowing,” Jojo said. “Mostly from lack of sleep.” They settled onto the couch, Kali’s own pregnant belly rounding proudly beneath her shirt. One of the girls curled up nearby with a tablet while the other sprawled on the floor with crayons.

The two women laughed, comparing symptoms, trading stories, commiserating over cravings and weird dreams and the sheer strangeness of growing entire humans. “At least we’re doing this together,” Kali said, rubbing her belly. Jojo nodded. “Yeah. Whatever comes next… I’m glad it’s not just me.” Outside, the day carried on—ordinary, quiet, safe.

But somewhere deep inside Jojo, something stirred. the dream might have ended. But the feeling hadn’t. And she knew—somehow—that it would return.They settled onto the couch, Kali’s own pregnant belly rounding proudly beneath her shirt. One of the girls curled up nearby with a tablet while the other sprawled on the floor, coloring with intense concentration.

For a while, it was easy. Laughter. Complaints about swollen feet. Comparisons of cravings and sleep schedules. The comforting rhythm of two women walking the same strange road together. “At least we’re doing this together,” Kali said, absently rubbing her belly. Jojo smiled. “Yeah. Whatever comes next… I’m glad it’s not just me.” Kali’s hand stilled. She didn’t look at Jojo right away.

Instead, she stared down at her belly, her fingers splayed as if she’d just felt something unexpected. “…You know,” Kali said slowly, “I didn’t come over just because you called.” Jojo’s smile faded a notch. “What do you mean?”

Kali finally looked up, and the playfulness in her eyes was gone—replaced by something quieter. Sharper. “I had a dream last night,” she said. Jojo’s breath caught. swallowed. “I was in a hospital. But it didn’t feel like a normal one. The air felt… charged. Like everything was humming.” heart began to race. “There were machines,” Kali continued. “Bright lights. And I knew—somehow—that a baby was being born. Not mine. Yours.” Jojo sat very still.

“I tried to teleport,” Kali said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But something pulled me off course. Like I wasn’t meant to be in the room yet.” The room seemed to tilt. “That’s exactly what happened,” Jojo said. “You showed up—and then vanished into the waiting area.” Kali nodded once, grim and certain. “I know.” They stared at each other, the noise of the girls fading into the background, the house suddenly feeling too quiet. “I woke up with my heart pounding,” Kali went on. “And this feeling—like I’d brushed against something bigger than a dream. Something shared.” Jojo pressed her palm to her belly. The baby kicked, strong and insistent. “It wasn’t just in my head,” she said. “No,” Kali agreed. “It really wasn’t.” For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Outside, the day went on—cars passing, birds calling, the world perfectly ordinary. Inside, two women sat shoulder to shoulder, knowing the same impossible truth. The dream hadn’t belonged to one of them. It had reached for both. And whatever was coming for their children—it had already begun. Kali stood to leave just before noon, her girls already tugging on their shoes.

“I have a pre-op appointment tomorrow,” she said casually, but her hand stayed protectively over her belly. “C-section’s scheduled for three days from now.” Jojo blinked. “Already?” “Doctor’s orders,” Kali said with a shrug. “Baby’s healthy. Just… insistent.”

Jojo felt a strange tightening in her chest. “That’s not far at all.” “No,” Kali agreed. Then, quieter: “It feels like things are lining up.”

Jojo hesitated. “You feel it too?” Kali met her gaze. “Yeah.” Neither of them said what it was. But they both felt it—like a tide pulling backward before a wave. As Kali stepped out the door, Jojo felt the baby shift again, sharper than before. Not painful.

Just… purposeful.