Paint It Black

I watched reruns of House, frightening myself even more about hospitals. I don't think I need to explain my fear, do I?

All while doing so, I got a few check up calls from Butcher and Sisky. Sisky just rubbed the fact that he was drunk, and I wasn't, in my face. I hung up on him a few times and finally put my phone on vibrate.

Near 8, I got a call from Frank. I had just finished barfing up my tomato soup; sorry.

"Are you still sick?" Frank asked.

"Yeah...I'm getting better though," I lied, "I'm really exhausted."

"You should go to the ER, Sunny, you don't sound to good." Frank was now the worrier.

"I'm fine, and I hate doctors." I explained, lying on the couch.

"For me, Sunny, get checked out. What if it's something serious?"

I put a hand on my stomach, rolling my fingers over it to soothe it, "It's nothing, just food poisoning."

Frank was silent for a minute, "Are you...could you be pregnant?" he asked quietly.

I furrowed my brows, "No, we used condoms."

"Not that one morning," he recanted softly, "could you get pregnant if I pulled out?"

I sighed, rubbing my neck now, "Shit," was all I could muster, "shit, I can't be pregnant."

"When was your last period?"

"I...I can't remember, I've been so stressed...I don't remember!" I shot up, "Fuck, Frank, I can't be pregnant!"

He sighed, "Just get checked out, get a test, then go to the doctor."

I swallowed hard, letting the realization hit me, "Oh God," I groaned, "fuck."

"Calm down, Sun, and just relax, you might not be pregnant." Frank tried to comfort me, but it wasn't working.

"Okay. Okay."
-

Telling Butcher about my possible pregnancy didn't sit to well. He wasn't mad, just a little disappointed. He didn't want me to have a kid so soon, he was afraid of me being hurt again. None the less, he stood by me, awkwardly, but a little confident, in the drugstore.

"I don't understand," I told him a little frustrated, "Which ones are more accurate?" I felt tears threatening to spill.

Butcher pulled me into a side hug, "It's okay, calm down, we can do this." Butcher picked up two, and read the back of each. 

You don't know how grateful I am for him.

"What do I do?" I asked, sniffling.

"This one is pretty easy; you pee on it and it says Pregnant or Not Pregnant," he gave that package to me, "Uh...this one is pretty hard, the stupid pink and blue lines," he turned to me, "I trust those ones," he pointed to the one I had in my hand, "we'll get two, and one of these."

I held Butcher's hand as we paid for the test, then exited the drugstore. I never felt nervous and sick before. Even when I was pregnant with my first, I was happily expecting everything, but this was unexpected. I love Frank, but who knows how long this'll last.

I hate doubting myself.
-

I sat on my tub, watching the stupid sticks, each lined up with the next. My heart was racing and I felt like I could barely breathe. I hadn't thrown up yet, and that surprised me.

"Sunny, you still have 10 minutes, why don't you play some music or something?" Butcher stood at my bathroom door way, his voice was high with worry, but solid and commanding.

I looked up at him, gripping the edge of the black, porcelain bathtub, "I can't. What if I'm pregnant? What am I going to do? What'll happen to me and Frank? Where would our baby live? Would he want me--"

Butcher gripped my shoulders, and shook me a little, "Calm down." he ordered, "You might not be pregnant."

I shook my head, feeling the tears, "If I am, Butcher, I don't think I could handle it," I began to sob softly, "What if I lose it again?"

He sighed and sat beside me, "If you are, then you are. You aren't going to lose your baby," he wrapped an arm around me, "the kid will grow up, the guys and I will be uncles, and you can raise him, or her, here until you and Frank figure out what to do."

I smiled half-heartedly at him, "You are the greatest friend, Butcher, thank you."

He squeezed my side, "Don't worry about it kid."

Butcher and I talked while we waited for the last 10 minutes to pass. He kept reassuring me that whatever happens, he'll be there no matter what. We also talked about my feelings of not seeing my therapist anymore. He fought me on it, but finally said that one more session wouldn't hurt.

We both looked to our phones when a beep went off. It was mine, I had set the timer. I swallowed hard, looking up at the test on the counter. I slowly stood and leaned forward toward the sink. Butcher stood behind me, leaning as well.

The first one had two pinks lines of doom.

The next two read my results, fat, plain and clear: Pregnant. 

I stepped back on my feet, placing my hands to my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned softly. Butcher put a hand on my shoulder, "We should schedule a doctors appointment," he told me, "just to make sure."

I dropped my hands, sighing again, "I'll tell Frank after we're absolutely positive."
-

When Frank called that night, I told him I planned on going to the doctor the next day. I hadn't relaid the pregnancy test, because I couldn't find the words to just blurt them out to him. He was supportive, and hoped for the best, whatever I wanted.

"Thank you, Frankie," I told him quietly.

"For what?" he asked confused.

"You and Butcher have been great to me, you haven't pressured me or anything."

"I love you, I just want what you want," he explained, "you don't need to thank me, it's what I'm suppose to do."

"You are so fucking cheesy, and I love it," I joked.

"Just for you, babe."