AN: Wow, the last chapter had a lots of reader activity. Once again, I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to all of your reviews personally so far, but as you can tell from the severely delayed chapter real life has been quite busy. Hopefully I'll be able to PM you all soon, and I hope the update makes up the delay to all you faithful readers.
I would again like to thank Elita One and CheapChristmasTrash for their continued reviews and support, anonymous for its kind review, and Anne Ominous and Blood Shifter2 for adding this story to their alerts. And I would especially like to thank Yami-Yugi3, TFSTARFIRE, X-Brawn, and FRAZZY for adding this story to their favorites!
Warning: descriptions of vomiting follow. If that terribly sets you off, you can skip to the divider in the middle of the story.
III
Seasickness: at first you are so sick you are afraid you will die, and then you are so sick you are afraid you won't die. ~ Mark Twain
Will's eyes shot open. He lay still. He saw bright pinpricks of light, stars surrounded by a courtesy curtain, wafting in the warm updrafts of a desert night. A moment passed, and another, and he felt himself relax in the warm, dry air of the bedroom, the wind rustling in the sagebrush outside the window. He gave a sigh, rolled over and flung out an arm for his wife…only to discover her side of the bed empty.
Now as his eyes once again opened to the pitch black room, he actually sat up, blood rushing through his ears, before reminding himself it was probably something inconsequential. She got up to get a drink of water, to go to the bathroom. Maybe she stopped in Annabelle's room a moment to check on her.
He was lying on his back staring at the ceiling telling himself these things when he heard a thud down the hall.
Now he threw his legs over the edge of the bed as quickly as possible, feet shuffling swiftly and quietly through the bedroom and down the hall.
"Heugh!" Someone was clearly retching their guts out in the bathroom. "Ugh…"
Will flicked the light on, squinting blearily at his wife bent over the toilet boil, resting her forehead on the cool porcelain. He trotted over to squat down next to her and rest a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently.
"Hey, you done now?" He asked quietly.
"For now, I think." She wobbled upright and over to the sink and mirror. Will flushed the toilet before standing up himself and watching her reflection intently as it splashed water in her mouth and on her face. She was very pale in the mirror.
"C'mon, lets get you back to bed," he said as he took her arm and led her out of the bathroom.
"I'm sorry," she said, raspy, "I tried not to wake you up with that big meeting tomorrow."
"Don't worry about it. Do you think you can drink some water?" He gestured to a glass on the nightstand. Sarah nodded as she sat down on the bed. He passed her the glass, and stood watching quietly as she tentatively sipped the lukewarm water down. He watched as she closed her eyes and held out the glass blindly for him to take from her, nearly as full as before she'd started. She rubbed her face once her hands were free.
"Nngg," She groaned dully.
"Hey," Will said quietly. Gently, he sat down on the bed next to her and grabbed her hands. When she opened her eyes to look at him in the gloom, he leaned forward and tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek. He felt her face smile weakly.
"Let's get some sleep, ok?" He stood up again, allowing her to lie down on the bed properly. They gazed at each other a moment before he went back to his own side to climb in next to her, pulling up the sheet.
Sarah reached behind her to grab Will's hand under the cover, then squeezed it slowly, holding it there a moment. Then she pulled her hand back and settled in with the pillow. Will watched her back rise and fall in the dim light, listening as her breaths slowed to sleep, then sighed and closed his own eyes.
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Sergeant Major William Lennox fidgeted in his monkey suit. No matter how many times he wore his dress uniform, no matter how many times Sarah told him how sharp he looked in it, he didn't think he would ever grow tolerant of it, let alone used to it. He'd reluctantly pulled it on that morning because of a high level meeting on world alliances working with the Autobots to increase planet-wide security from Decepticon threats.
Of course, instead of mentally reviewing the U.S. military's position on related issues, or even watching the road in order to drive, Will was fretting about his three month pregnant wife.
"Stop wiggling." Will jumped, startled out of his thoughts by Ironhide's gravelly voice. They drove in silence for a few minutes. But with no need to focus on driving, Will's mind inevitably began to drift again, and as he brooded he once again fussed with his uniform absently.
"Stop squirming already!" Ironhide commanded a little more authoritatively. Will grimaced and gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. After several weeks of interrupted sleep and continual worry, he had little patience left to deal with the often socially rough bot whom he happened to be riding in. So, he said nothing in reply.
Of course, this did not prevent said bot from becoming curious at the Sergeant's unusual behavior.
"What is wrong with you? I leave for two weeks and you turn into junkheap," Ironhide said disdainfully, though Will knew he was concerned or he would not have said anything. Will relaxed his grip on the steering wheel to more tolerable levels.
"This whole…pregnancy thing has me wound up," he offered. Ironhide didn't buy it.
"You were static with joy for the first couple of months, and now I can clearly tell you're overclocked," his deep voice paused for a moment, perhaps waiting for him to say something. "A junkheap" he ended decisively. Will sighed mentally and gave in.
"I think you mean 'ecstatic'…and you're right, things have changed a bit since not too long before you left." Will rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel, staring at it intently. "Sarah's been getting morning sickness real bad, and-"
"She is ill?" Ironhide cut in.
"Not exactly. Morning sickness is, well, a side effect of being pregnant. It means she get really nauseous and throws up, especially in the morning…though as I've discovered, the nausea can occur any time of day. She hasn't been eating or sleeping well because of it."
"Can your medics not treat this sickness?"
"There are treatments, but so far none of the tricks the doctor has suggested have worked, and Sarah's reluctant to take medication while pregnant unless absolutely necessary." Ironhide paused after this answer.
"Then you can do nothing." This was not a question. The interior of the truck cab which had previously been mildly warm now seemed stifling, and under his suit he felt himself sweat and watched as his slick hands slid along the steering wheel.
"No."
Will could practically hear Ironhide's processors grinding over that information.
Personally, Will was worried sick over his wife, even with her platitudes that she was coping fine and the doctor's reassurances that this was not unusual. Will had seen the tense expression on the doctor's face when they'd described the failure of the most recent attempt to quell Sarah's nausea. It didn't take a medical expert to look at his pale, tired wife to know that she was not doing well.
Ironhide's voice broke him out of his thoughts yet again. "She was pregnant before, with Annabelle. And she had morning sickness then as well." He spoke to Will in the tone of voice he often used to ponder on human stupidity.
"I was deployed overseas for all of it, but she probably did," he nearly choked out. He did not like pondering his wife suffering through her first pregnancy alone.
"My understanding is that Annabelle, confounding creature, is a perfectly healthy example of human progeny. I'm sure that your wife will also commendably gestate this offspring. If she survived it once, and she will survive it again," Ironhide said definitively.
Will wasn't sure how to respond to this unusual complement; unusual its delivery and subject matter, sure, but also in its deliverer. So he thought quietly on what Ironhide had reasoned out, and though the part of him that wanted to protect his family from all woes resisted, he quickly came to the same conclusions Ironhide had. Of course, the part of him that loved and respected his wife swelled with pride at her fortitude, and easily accepted Ironhide's declaration as truth.
They approached the desert base of the Autobots based in the U.S., and once they were inside the compound and close enough to the buildings for it to be a reasonable walk on human legs, Ironhide pulled to a stop. Will climbed down from the cab slowly, and left his hand on the door once he was down. He paused there awkwardly.
"Thanks, 'Hide." He finally said, before closing the door and patting it affectionately. Ironhide grumbled his engine at him.
"When you finish with those stiff in the servos politicos you know where to find me," the truck said before rolling off steadily to the firing range.
Will shook his head, smiled, then turned and walked into the building.