It was Olivia's dry coughing that woke Peter. He opened his eyes in the dark room and looked around to see that she wasn't in bed with him. She had come down with a cold for about a week now. And he was growing more and more distraught by the fact that it seemed to be getting worse instead of better. That morning Broyles had called and very impatiently told him to come take Olivia home before she got everyone else sick. He had to smile at the fact that Broyles called him to make Olivia leave instead of just using his privileges as her superior to'order her to do so, but he knew that he did it because she had probably refused to listen to him.

She had been in a terrible mood lately.

He walked over to the living room to find her sitting on the couch, a blanket covering her body up to her shoulders, head resting over the back of the couch and mouth slightly open as she breathed through it.

"Can't sleep again?" he ask, hoping not to scare her. For a few days now she had been tossing and turning or sitting up with bouts of coughing several times a night. Sleep had become distant memory for both of them. He could do ok with little sleep, but being pregnant was making it very difficult for Olivia to cope with the lack of rest.

She sniffed and turned to look at him with heavy lidded eyes, all the bravado she had been putting up for the past few days, gone. She shook her head and coughed again. He sat down beside her and rested a hand on her forehead, feeling her hot skin under his palm.

"You have a fever. How about you call in sick in the morning?" He tried to make it sound more like a suggestion rather than a demand. He was determined to be adamant about it, but he knew he had to tread carefully around her. Her mood had considerably deteriorated the past week. She had been having angry outburst frequently, anything a reason to make her lose her patience, from him tapping his shoes on the ground while watching TV, to him banging pots and pans while cooking dinner.

"I can't. I have a meeting."

"Of course you can. You're sick. It's a public health matter. You could get everybody else sick. Broyles already didn't want you working today. And besides, we have that appointment in the afternoon, you'd be gone half the day anyway."

"No."

"Olivia, you need to give your body time to rest and heal itself. Your superiors and coworkers will understand. Besides, it's about time you tell them you're pregnant."

This was another serious subject they had been disagreeing on lately. Olivia refused to tell anyone she was pregnant until they hit the twelve week mark. Peter thought she had to tell at least her superiors at the FBI so that they'd spare her of any dangerous field duty. But she refused to even discuss it. Luckily, there haven't been any cases lately that he could worry about. But everyday that she left for work he feared something would happen to them.

"We've talked about it." She sniffed again.

"Yeah and we didn't really reach an agreement."

She glared at him and his heart skipped a beat in fear but he refused to give in.

"Peter, we don't even know…"

"We don't even know what?"

"Let's wait until tomorrow ok? And if the doctor tells me everything is still going ok, we'll see."

She was eight weeks already, and they were going to have their first official prenatal appointment the next day. At the hospital when she was shot, they did a blood test and an ultrasound that confirmed her pregnancy, but then she had been only four weeks along, and it had been too early to even hear a heartbeat. When they tried to get an appointment with an ob, they were told that they had to wait until she was eight weeks to start prenatal screenings, so they waited.

"Olivia, everything is ok."

She remained quiet, and looked down.

"We don't know that for sure."

"Of course we do, we got a positive blood test. Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know. After all that happened to me, who knows if this baby was able to resist. Maybe the test was positive because there was still residual hormone in my body."

"Olivia…"

"Admit it, Peter. That was a pretty big trauma for a baby to survive. Not to mention all the other stuff I did before getting shot. The cortexiphan, the jumping out of a helicopter."

He stared at her in disbelief for a second before reaching a hand to touch her thigh. She pulled away at first but then let him touch her.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," she sniffed again and blew out a breath, her eyes filling with tears. "I haven't exactly been feeling any symptoms."

Dread spread through his chest with her confession. He had been living the past four weeks in cloud nine, house hunting and daydreaming of a new life with his new family. All of her unusual behavior he had blamed on hormones, and never for a moment he had imagined she felt like that towards the pregnancy.

"That doesn't mean anything."

She gave him a knowing look.

"Look, we can't think like that. Everything is ok. I'm sure." He moved his hand up to find hers through the blanket and squeezed it, trying his best to make his voice sound firm and reassuring, but feeling like a bucket full of icy cold water had just awakened him from a dream.

She looked down again, and he cupped her jaw, bringing her eyes up to his. "I don't want you thinking like that anymore. I know why you're feeling like this. I know how your mind works. But you have to stop and believe you can be happy."

Closing her eyes, Olivia shook her head, pulling her face away from his hold, "I want to, but I can't help it."

He took a deep breath to try and ease away the feeling of frustration. It wasn't her fault that she felt like that. But he wanted so bad to make her see how deserving of happiness she was.

"Olivia, look at me, listen." he cupped both sides of her face in his hand, "You gotta stop that nonsense. You are pregnant. The baby is ok. Everything is going to be ok. You have to believe."

She looked down.

"Tell me you believe, Olivia."

She nodded without looking at him and then leaned into a hug. He held her tight, wishing he could fix all the bad things that were done to her that made her unable to let herself be happy. But then, she wouldn't be his Olivia, so he just hugged and made his best to make her feel safe.

She pulled away and started another bout of coughing, her whole body moving with the force of it, face grimacing. His heart broke for her. He wished he could just take it all away, her illness, her insecurity about her pregnancy.

"Come on, let's go back to bed. I'll take care of you two." He helped her up and towards the bedroom, and tried his best to make her comfortable. After a Tylenol and some tea, she drifted off, and he lay awake beside her praying to god the next day would bring good news, for her sake.

AN.: It will get happier, don't worry. Let me know your thoughts.