#tmpreg tw

For the last week, Frank had actually been feeling kind of… okay. Admittedly, the pregnancy had been absolute hell on his body. Worse than penny. He was already anemic and on iron supplements; he'd been recommended, over and over, to terminate, and he had refused every time, because he was determined to do this. Because Robby deserved to have a kid, and this was probably the last time he would ever manage to do this, and… and maybe more than a little bit of stubbornness.

It had also been suggested, repeatedly, that he should come off work early. He had agreed to do so at the end of the second trimester, determined to make it that far. Now the morning sickness had finally stopped, although the nausea had been lingering… he'd been struggling to eat at all, switching over to supplementary vitamins to try to keep himself going. He looked like shit, as well; constantly pale, shaky and dropping things…

The last few days, though, he'd been doing so much better. The vomiting seemed to have stopped, he'd even been eating, even if it was just a very pale broth. He was still exhausted, though; so he'd gone to bed not long after they had gotten home, and had still been sleeping like the dead when Robby had come up.

Now, in the dead of the night, he stirred. There was a low whine in his throat; skin burning with fever as he twisted in the dark, eyes cracking to the room lit by only the light leaking through the curtains. In that hazy deep blue, he was hit by the intense feeling of something… wrong. Something deeply wrong.