(no subject)
Gemma stared down at the stick in her hands, unable to stop shaking. Dropping it to the bathroom counter, she covered her mouth to muffle to sob that threatened to break it's way out. Spock was on shift. McCoy had taken Gemma off the past few days, since she hadn't been feeling well. There'd been nothing to signal...this. Just a pounding headache and backache and a little bit of rolling nausea and achiness, though it all lasted throughout the day. None of the morning sickness she would have expected. But this morning, when she'd rolled out of bed, she glanced at the calender and realized that she was late. Normally, she'd have attributed it to her sickness. But then she realized this was the 3rd month in a row. She just hadn't really thought about it, so used to only having periods every 3 months due to her hypo.
Except she never went back on it after they decided to have children.
S-...Spock...come home, please...
Except she never went back on it after they decided to have children.
S-...Spock...come home, please...