Alia D's one-shot

He'd never caught it so soon before. Not without assistance. Usually, the warning signs would build up, and then they would recognize the situation.

The first time no one had realized their success until nearly four months had passed. That had been somewhat embarrassing on his part, but everyone had been so thrilled that the late confirmation hadn't been noticed. There had been so much relief from them all. Their future was secured, the Gods had been kind, and he had been so happy. He wouldn't need to use his contingency plans. He wouldn't take a chance losing his husband.

At least he hadn't planned to.

Anzu had caught it the second time. He hadn't even realized it until she asked how long he wanted to wait before wearing a tunic. He'd been beyond confused as to why. Royal, he may be, but he wasn't a woman and had no breasts to cover. Men didn't wear tunics in the Egyptian heat without a damn good reason. Even the slaves and servants, male or female, went without. Of course, when he finally realized what Anzu meant, he had an idea to wear one.

The third time, Yugi had caught it when he'd found his older brother wandering the palace halls at night, desperate for something sweet, but not wanting to bother his husband or their guards. Yugi gave a hopeful smile at the realization, and his own heart had warmed at the suggestion. After all, he only did that once, and Yugi recognized the signs immediately. They'd both still be hopeful.

Not that it helped in the end.

The fourth discovery had come by way of his husband. While preparing for their morning, the two men were slightly playful. The royal had eventually yanked his younger husband back into his arms, wrapping his arms around him. The taller Egyptian had immediately gone still before placing his hands on his lover's stomach. Realizing the implication, he had gone silent as his Pharaoh began praying.

It made him wonder if he was cursed and not gifted.

The fifth time, it was noticed early. There had been a violent clash with a powerful tribe from Persia that failed in a rebellion. Despite his husband's reluctance, he'd gone to the border to aid the army positioned at the edge. Egypt didn't need nor wanted any member of that tribe walking their lands. The treasonous tribe, of course, thought otherwise and a battle ensued. He had been fine, despite the worries of Joey and Malik. At least he had felt so until he'd fainted on the return home. Isis, bless her, had told him the (supposedly) good news.

Too bad it nearly ended up killing him. It had been too much, and he'd bled too much.

At that point, the Pharaoh had stepped in. No matter their hopes, the ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt would not lose his soulmate. The king refused to drop the one person chosen by Horus and Hathor to stand at his side always.

He could still remember the bitter tears and the painful, sickening ache in his chest after hearing the words: "Never again."

Things don't always work out that way though.

After his contingency plan had fallen through and later fell apart gruesomely, it wasn't caught by anyone. They had all been too hurt, too betrayed and also buried in grief. He kept having nightmare after nightmare of Osiris walking away with a cold still bundle. Even with Anzu and Yugi at his side, also while he watched that monster tortured and killed before an enraged audience of Egypt, he hadn't been able to recover really.

It was the shock of the murder that did it. He'd woken merely in pain the morning after the execution, hurried to his study, and spent the rest of the day hiding and bleeding. Of all people, Mahad had discovered his secret, later bringing him water and clean linens, but quietly swore he would take it to his grave. His silent support had kept insanity at bay.

He'd never caught it so soon before, but he knew. He knew it was happening again. He just wasn't sure if he could go through it.

There were things he could do. Egypt wasn't just influential in riches and military power. Their intellect and knowledge were nearly unparalleled in other kingdoms. He knew precisely which herbs to use. He wasn't sure if it would kill him or not though.

He wondered if he'd survive this one with, if not his body, then his mind intact.

Curling up on the bed, whispering as not to disturb his sleeping husband, Yami closed his eyes to the darkness of the room. "I am sorry, little one. I will give you all the time I can, but I am sorry." Yami knew this would be the one that would break him. It had been too much.

Seven children lost; six from his own body. He finally realized he would never give Atem the heir they both wanted. It seemed like Horus' promise had meant nothing after all.

Five miscarriages and a stillbirth. A silent tear fell from the empty rose-madder eyes as Yami remembered watching Isis struggle to get their first-born to breathe. He didn't forget the devastated look on Atem's face when he held their dead daughter. He could hear Solomon whispering to him while Yugi's arms wrapped around his older brother in a barren comfort. He still heard Anzu and Mana crying outside the room and the soft prayers from the priests. The silence where there should be a robust, healthy cry of life was the most active memory of it all.

Yami knew this pregnancy would kill him either by miscarriage or by his very hand. He couldn't live with the failure anymore. He'd failed his husband, his family, his friends, the priests, and Egypt herself. Even when he'd broken his own heart and demanded Atem take a wife, he couldn't give his husband a living heir.

But he wouldn't tell Atem. He wouldn't put his beloved Pharaoh through the loss of another child. It hurt seeing Atem hesitate around Yami. The man usually treated Yami as an equal rather than fractured pottery. It didn't make things better when Yami sometimes lashed out in pain. The time between Atem's second marriage and the woman's execution hadn't helped their lives. It must have been Hathor's will that kept the two of them together with so many challenges. Yami didn't know if their marriage would survive this last one.

"All the time I can give you," Yami whispered to his unborn child before curling up as tightly as he could into a ball.

It would take great care, but he knew he could hide his pregnancy. Winter would be approaching soon, and the situation with a Persian providence was escalating. Atem would be leaving within the month to deal with the situation in person, leaving Egypt in the hands of his husband. If Yami wore a loose tunic during that time and were careful, no one would ever find out.

It was likely he'd miscarry again. It was better than a stillbirth.

Rolling over to face Atem, Yami moved closer to his Pharaoh's warmth. He'd take his husband's unknowing comfort.

He'd need it in the future