Author's note: Thanks to skzb, sallyloveslinus, and catsluver, who are the most amazing betas on the planet. Thanks to MJ for your reviews, and to all of you who read, alert, and review this story. You are well loved. Also, just a reminder: I post every Wednesday unless I tell you guys otherwise.

Last but not least, Happy July 4th for all you Americans out there, and Happy Wednesday to all the rest of you lovely readers from other countries!

Chapter 7

The telephone line was completely quiet, not even the sound of breathing or a TV in the background, and TJ wondered if the line had gone dead. "Mama? Daddy? Y'all still there?"

Her mother's voice was quiet, a slight tremble in it. "Oh, TJ."

TJ's hand tightened on Sam's phone. She couldn't tell if that was a disappointed "Oh, TJ" or maybe some other emotion she couldn't identify. "Um, I'm sorry. I know it's a shock. I—"

"Oh, honey. It's a miracle and a blessing," said Fern. There was a smile in her voice now. "Oh, my Lord. Twins!"

TJ felt some of the tension leave her body and loved her mom more in that moment than she ever had. She'd had a long talk with her mom about how Sam's paralysis would make it difficult for them to have biological children. Her mother knew just how much of a miracle this really was, especially since her parents were no strangers to the pain and frustration of infertility. They'd long since given up on having children when TJ had landed on their doorstep.

"You gonna name one of 'em after me?" asked Vern. He was teasing her and didn't sound disappointed or disapproving at all.

TJ rolled her eyes and let out a relieved giggle. "What if they're girls?"

"Then you could name one Vernetta and one Vernonella. Hell, those'd make good twin names."

"Ugh. Sorry, Daddy, but our family doesn't exactly have the best history for naming their offspring."

"Just somethin' to keep in mind." There was a pause, and then he asked, "So when are y'all gonna tie the knot?"

She knew it wouldn't take long to get around to that. "We're thinking Thanksgiving, if y'all can make it."

"Nothing could keep us away, hon. You know that," said her mom.

They talked about the details then, about what needed to be done for the wedding. TJ reluctantly told them about how severe her nausea was, about her trip to the hospital, and most of what Dr. Williams had told them—all except the really scary stuff that TJ was sure wasn't going to happen anyway. Her mother was immediately worried and wanted to catch the next flight to San Diego, but TJ assured her that she would be okay and that the anti-nausea medication should be kicking in soon. She hoped that was the case, that the medicine would actually work. Dr. Williams hadn't exactly guaranteed that it would.

After TJ told her parents everything, they wanted to talk to Sam. She handed the phone to him and listened to his side of the conversation. There were lots of laughs and lots of "Uh, yeahs," "I wills," and "I promises," and then he ended the call.

"Well, that went better than I thought it would," said TJ.

"Told you. Feel better now?"

"Yeah." She did. Immensely. Sam had been right. Her parents were really understanding. It seemed she was the only one with the hang-up about being a pregnant bride.

She and Sam were quiet after that, and she felt so relaxed she started to drift off to sleep.

"TJ?" Sam said softly.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not going back. I'm gonna withdraw from Berkeley."

She was jolted back to wakefulness and sat up, bracing herself with one hand on the mattress and ignoring the slight dizziness she felt at the sudden change in position. "What?"

"You being pregnant, the hard time you're having—I can't go off to Berkeley and pick up where I left off. I can't leave you to deal with all of this alone."

"Uh-uh. No." She shook her head adamantly.

"I need—I want to keep..." He trailed off and looked away, as if he knew what he'd started to say would piss her off.

"You wanna keep an eye on me. You think I need a babysitter."

He shifted his gaze back to her, expression direct. "To be honest, yes."

She almost crossed her arms in annoyance but then remembered she had the IV and thought better of it. "Well, I don't."

"Well, what am I supposed to think, TJ? First, you hid the nausea from me, even though you thought you might be dying—"

"I was scared and in denial! I hid it from myself, too."

He held up a hand. "Let me finish." He closed his eyes for a second, as if calling on some remote reserve of patience. "Then you hid the fact that you didn't keep the prenatal vitamins down—"

"I did keep them down!"

He looked dubious.

"Okay. I kept one down."

He raised a brow.

She lowered her eyes and felt a bit of heat spread up her neck to her ears. "Okay. I threw up a couple of hours later."

Eye roll.

She felt defensive. "I don't know that the vitamin came back up. For all I know, it got digested and all I threw up were the ginger cookies I ate."

He didn't look convinced. "What about the dizziness?" he challenged.

"It wasn't really that bad."

"TJ," he admonished.

"It wasn't! Today was the worst it's ever been."

"Oh, that's good to know," he said sarcastically. "The dizziness you've been having for the past month and a half was mild." He scoffed. "Why worry about it if you don't face-plant, right?"

Now she was ticked. "I thought it would go away!"

He just looked at her, let her words hover in the air, and she realized how lame an excuse it was.

"I'm not going back, TJ. It's too far away."

"Fine," she fumed. "Forget your dream. Screw it. So what are you gonna do, get your old bookkeeping job back at Shorty's? Oh, I know. You can be a fuckin' clerk for the rest of your life. Who knows?" she mocked. "Maybe someday you'll get promoted to paralegal. How exciting!"

He exhaled a harsh breath, jaw cementing. "There are other options. Maybe I can transfer to UC San Diego. Maybe they'll take me for the spring semester."

"Yeah. Maybe," she echoed cynically, "but not if you leave Berkeley in the middle of your first semester. They're gonna think you're a flake, Sam, that you can't hack it."

He glanced away, his jaw still clenched.

"Okay. Look, I swear that I won't keep anything from you."

He snorted with derision, still not looking at her. "I've heard that before."

She felt a surge of anger. "Yeah? Well, you're one to talk, Mr. I-Have-Demon-Blood-In-Me!"

He glanced pointedly in the direction of the other patient bed. "You wanna keep your voice down?" he hissed.

She ignored him. "It's not like you were exactly forthcoming about that, were you?"

His brow wrinkled and there was hurt in his eyes. He kept his voice low but intense. "It's no big deal, remember? It's not like you're taking it seriously. It's a joke, right?"

"Right. It's not a big deal because I don't even think it's in you anymore. You're not evil, Sam, and you never will be. But the point is, you kept it from me, so don't get all self-righteous because I didn't tell you about the nausea."

"And the dizziness and the fatigue," he reminded.

"I told you I was tired many times."

"You didn't tell me how extreme it was."

She huffed, exasperated. "I...won't...hide...anything...anymore." She said the words with precision and heartfelt resolve, trying to make them penetrate his stubborn, thick skull.

His eyes were locked on her, studying and assessing.

"At least give Berkeley another month," she pleaded, "just until the wedding. Give the nausea medication a chance to work and we'll go from there. You're doing so well at Berkeley, Sam. For God's sake, don't throw it all away."

He was quiet, still staring at her. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he spoke. "I promised your parents, TJ. I promised them that I would look out for you, that I would take care of you."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need to be taken care of. I can take care of myself. Besides, it's not just me anymore. I promise you I will do everything in my power to be healthy so that these babies are healthy. I won't do anything to jeopardize them."

He looked serious, as if weighing his next words. "Okay. I'll go back on one condition."

She smiled, elated and relieved that she'd won, at least for the time being. "What?"

"I want you to move back into the apartment."

Her smile fell. He was talking about his and Dean's apartment. What he left unsaid was that he didn't trust her, that Dean would be there and could be Sam's eyes and ears. Dean would be able to keep tabs on her.

She was irritated, but she couldn't really blame him. She hadn't done a very good job of taking care of herself over the past few months or of being honest. She would have to work on building his trust again. "Fine. I guess the jig is up, anyway. It's not like my parents would be uncomfortable with me living there in light of what I just told them today."

The corners of his mouth curved upward. "Probably not."

She loved how the slightest movement of his mouth caused his dimples to show. He put his arm around her, and she lay back down, suddenly exhausted.

"But if you get sicker, TJ, the deal is off. I'm coming back," he warned. "And if I find out you're keeping anything from me or downplaying your condition, I'm leaving, too. Got it?"

"Got it," she said with a yawn. "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be okay."

She hoped to God she was right.

XXXXXXXX

TJ awoke with the familiar nausea that still plagued her some mornings. It seemed worse this morning, but she told herself it was probably more nerves than the pregnancy. After all, it was the Friday after Thanksgiving—her wedding day.

It was seven-thirty in the morning. Sam was still asleep, lying on his stomach next to her, his face turned toward her and a lock of dark-brown hair on his cheek. Her eyes traveled over his bare, muscular back, taking in the many faded scars marring his otherwise smooth skin. He'd been through so many horrible, painful things in his life, had sacrificed so much. He was a hero—although he would never see himself that way—but only a handful of people would ever know the extent of what he'd done.

His brow was smooth while he slept, and he looked young, almost boyish. She loved to see him at peace, the stress and worry he always carried on his shoulders at bay for the moment. He was so capable, so smart and responsible. He would be a good husband and father, but she was determined to share some of his burden and convince him once and for all that there wasn't an ounce of demon blood or anything else evil in him.

She continued to see Dr. Williams for her prenatal care because both TJ and Sam had been impressed with her when they first met her in the ER. TJ's health had improved drastically, and she was happy to be able to report to Sam that all was going well. She actually kind of gloated about it, taking satisfaction in proving him wrong about the demon blood and that it wasn't affecting her pregnancy. She wasn't even too irritated that he was getting confirmation from Dean each week about her health behind her back.

The anti-nausea med, Promethazine, was working, and while she still fought bouts of nausea, she had stopped throwing up and was able to keep down her iron supplements and prenatal vitamins to stave off the anemia and low blood pressure. She ate pretty healthy most of the time, now that she was able to keep things down. However, Dean had gotten her hooked on cheeseburgers. They weren't exactly nutritious, but at least the beef was full of iron. She hadn't thought she'd be able to stomach the grease, but, surprisingly, the burgers had a settling effect on her stomach and she found herself craving them.

She had moved into Sam and Dean's apartment as Sam stipulated and was going to let the lease on hers go in December. She had a six-month lease that was expiring anyway, so there wouldn't be a penalty. It was a minor thing, but not having a place of her own anymore cemented the fact that she and Sam were merging their lives together. It was kind of weird that she would be living with Dean after the wedding and not Sam, but she didn't want to quit school in the middle of the semester any more than she wanted Sam to.

After a lot of soul searching, she finally decided that since the twins would be born in the spring right before finals, it didn't really make sense for her to continue with school for the upcoming spring semester. There was probably no way she would be able to keep up with classes and take care of two newborns. She would take that semester off and move in with Sam at Berkeley, and they could decide what to do about her school later. Dr. Williams had already recommended a good OB in Berkeley that could take over TJ's case and deliver the twins.

Of course, she could try to get into grad school at Berkeley, but it was one of the very top schools in the nation for science and research, and it would be hard to get accepted, not to mention that she wouldn't have her graduate scholarship and would have to pay the full tuition.

It was a hard choice, but she wasn't giving up. She would finish her master's degree eventually, but the babies and her marriage—holy shit, her marriage—had to come first. She wasn't the first woman who had to make such a sacrifice. She'd kind of been scornful of women who gave up their careers for family, but now she understood why they did it.

She would have to wake Sam soon. The wedding was early, at ten-thirty in the morning, because the Methodist church where TJ wanted to have it had been all booked up except for that time. She didn't mind. Since it was a small, informal wedding, it actually made more sense. There was less pressure to have a fancy, expensive reception like there would be with a larger wedding held in the evening. Instead, after the ceremony, they were having a lunch reception at Tapenade, one of the nicest restaurants in San Diego.

The wedding party was small. Gretchen and Heather were bridesmaids, and Bobby was a groomsman. TJ's mother was her matron of honor, and Dean was Sam's best man. TJ's dad would give her away and then join Dean and Bobby as a groomsman.

TJ's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden strong wave of nausea, and she sat up and reached for the saltines that she kept by her bedside, hoping they would stave off the queasiness. She tried to be quiet, but the package rattled loudly. She winced and glanced at Sam.

A sleepy hazel eye popped open.

"Sorry," she said with dismay, even as she compounded her crime by sticking a cracker in her mouth and chewing it loudly. She put her pillow against the wall, since they didn't have a headboard, and leaned back against it.

His brow wrinkled in concern and his voice was husky with sleep. "You're feeling sick?"

She swallowed the wad of cracker in her mouth. "A little. I think it's more nerves."

He raised his head and repositioned it on the edge of his pillow where more of his face showed. The corners of his mouth quirked. "Getting cold feet?"

She smiled. "Yeah. I was thinking about calling Ralph."

"You're hilarious."

She stuck another cracker in her mouth and waited until she'd chewed a bit of it before she spoke. "I think his feelings were hurt," she swallowed the rest of the cracker, "that he didn't get invited to the wedding, especially since he's dating Gretchen."

"You should have invited him."

"It would be weird. Besides, as it is now, there's an even number of bridesmaids and groomsmen. He would be the odd man out—and would you really want him to stand up with you?"

"Uh, probably not."

"Right. So then he would be the only person sitting in the pews watching."

"Maybe he could take pictures or something."

"No way." She was horrified at the thought. She had splurged and hired a professional photographer. She only planned on having one wedding in her life, and she didn't trust just anyone to take pictures of it. She had hired a videographer, too.

Sam reached out and put his large hand on her baby bump, unable to cover it all, although he'd been able to a few weeks ago. "Have you felt anything?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure. Sometimes I feel a faint fluttery feeling, but it could just be gas." She was four and a half months pregnant and definitely starting to show. Her belly wasn't as big as some women with twins at that stage, but since it was her first pregnancy and she was a tall girl to begin with, her OB said the size of her belly was normal. The babies—each about the size of a pear—were exactly the size they should be and appeared to be healthy.

Sam smiled, but then his features darkened a bit and he frowned. "I don't want to miss anything."

She placed her hand on top of his. "You won't. You've only got three weeks left and then you're on Christmas break. Then I'll be done with my school soon after, and I'll move to Berkeley with you. You'll have plenty of chances for doing all that prego stuff, like feeling the babies move."

She was sitting Indian style, and he moved his hand down to rest on her knee. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That you have to leave school."

She shrugged. "I'll be back," she said in her best Terminator impression.

His brow was furrowed and he looked guilty.

"Sam, it'll be okay. I'm just putting things on hold for a while." She stuffed another cracker in her mouth, trying not to show the pang of regret she felt.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "I love you."

"I wuv 'ou, thoo," she said around the now soggy cracker.

He rewarded her with dimples. "So, are you sad? I mean, these are your last hours as a Nelek."

It might not be the modern, feminist thing to do, but she was taking Sam's name. She swallowed the last of the cracker. It felt chalky as it went down her throat, but at least her stomach was starting to settle. "Am I sad? No. I'm gonna keep the Nelek and lose the TJ."

He laughed. "Nelek Winchester?"

"Why not? Most of my friends call me Nelly anyway."

He gave her the puppy-dog look. "I don't want you to lose the TJ. I like it."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. I guess I'll keep it, then."

His expression changed instantly from puppy-dog to a grin, and she couldn't resist leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. Then she rose up, suddenly all business. "Okay. I'm fixin' to go to my apartment to get dressed. My mom, Gretchen, and Heather are gonna help me."

"Why don't you do it here?"

"So you won't see my dress, silly. It's bad luck if you see it before the ceremony."

"Oh. Right."

She felt a surge of love for him and gave him a more proper kiss on his lips, not caring that she probably had a combination of morning and cracker breath. "See you at the wedding."

He smiled. "See you at the wedding."

XXXXXXXX

TJ waited beside her dad at the doors to the church sanctuary, her hand resting in the crook of his elbow. Vernon looked handsome in a black suit and simple black tie, shoulders back and his silver, military-style hair in place. He had such a regal bearing that TJ forgot she was actually almost four inches taller than he was—even more so with her heels on. Since it was an informal morning wedding, there was no need for tuxes. Still, he looked spiffy in his wedding finery. TJ had only seen him dressed up like that once before, at Mamaw's funeral.

TJ wanted to keep things simple and felt silly that she was about to make such a grand entrance, but her mother, Gretchen, and Heather had all insisted on it. This would be the only bit of fanfare. Everything else would be low-key.

Sam and the rest of the wedding party should already be in their places in the sanctuary. The organist—a very talented lady who was able to tame the monstrous pipe organ, the pipes of which spanned the entire back wall of the cathedral-style church—began to play the notes of Pachelbel's Canon in D, a common bridal march. It made TJ's stomach flip-flop in anticipation of what was about to happen.

"I think that's our cue, Daddy," she said with a smile, although she felt a twinge of sadness.

Vernon trained his bright-blue eyes on her, moisture making them shine more than usual. "You look beautiful, dumplin'."

"Thanks, Daddy." She felt beautiful. Her wedding dress wasn't the princess dress she'd dreamed of as a naïve girl from Kentucky, but it suited the woman she was now. The ivory satin, above-the-knee, A-line dress was all chic California and hid her baby bump well, but the pale-pink satin jacket, matching pointy Vera Wang heels, and wrist-length, matinee gloves were all Kentucky belle. The jacket was the same length as her dress and also helped to conceal her growing belly, along with the small nosegay of pale-pink roses she carried in one hand.

As a finishing touch, she'd left her legs daringly bare, and they were sexy and shapely, if she did say so herself. She could feel the powder-blue satin garter on her thigh that her mother gave her. Her mother had worn it in her wedding, and it was the "something old and something blue."

She wore a simple pearl necklace that her Aunt Tru and Aunt Joyce had gone in together to buy and sent to her (the something new), and her subtle, elegant pearl earrings were borrowed from Heather.

Her hair was in a simple, loose updo, classy but not too businesslike. A few tendrils had escaped their clasp and fallen around her face because, of course, it wouldn't be her hair if they didn't.

"He's a good man," her dad said quietly. "He'll make you happy."

She felt a huge lump form in her throat, and tears were dangerously close to escaping her eyes. "I know." She took in a deep breath, not wanting to cry. "I'll still be your little girl, though, Daddy. You know I'll always love you."

He looked away as though embarrassed of his strong emotions, unable to speak. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a bit of soft pink lipstick on it and wiping it away with her gloved hand.

He seemed to master his emotions. "You ready?"

"Yes." She placed her hand back on his arm.

He smiled and opened the double doors to the sanctuary, and the music of the organ was suddenly loud, echoing throughout the almost empty sanctuary.

The photographer was trying to be discreet as he took pictures of her walking down the aisle. She hardly noticed him, all her senses homing in on Sam. He was standing on the left-hand side of the pastor, who was a surprisingly young guy for being the preacher of such a large church.

Sam was at least three inches taller than everyone else in the wedding party, leaning on his forearm crutches for balance. He was tall, dark, and handsome in his simple black suit, and he literally took her breath away. His shaggy hair had been tamed, and his pale-pink tie and matching pocket handkerchief were elegant and distinguished him from Dean and Bobby—although it wasn't like Sam Winchester would ever need anything to make him stand out in a crowd. She was sure he'd endured some good-natured teasing from Dean for wearing pink, but the color coordinated with TJ and looked decidedly tasteful and manly on him. Of course, he would look good in just about anything.

She'd told him not to buy new shoes to wear with his braces. She didn't care if he had on the tennis shoes he wore specifically with the braces, but she noticed he had on black dress shoes instead. He had to wear shoes that were a size larger than what he normally wore to accommodate the plastic part of the brace that fit inside the shoe. He must have bought the dress shoes just for the wedding, along with his suit. Oh, well. Maybe he would get some wear out of them once he was a lawyer—sans pale-pink tie, of course.

She met his eyes and thought she might melt at the gorgeous smile on his face. His dimples were present in all their glory, and his love for her was clearly written on his face. It made her heart swell until she thought it might burst, and she beamed back, hoping that he could see how much she loved him too.

She absently noted that everyone was smiling and saw her bridesmaids looking lovely in their simple black dresses, but she hardly gave them a second thought. She only had eyes for Sam and was drawn to him, this intelligent, funny, kind, wonderful man that was about to become her husband. A part of her still couldn't believe it. It almost seemed too good to be true, like a fairytale, because guys like Sam didn't fall in love with plain-Jane girls like her.

But, by some miracle, he had, and she would never do anything to hurt him. She knew he would give his life to protect her, and she would do the same for him. He'd been through so much and lost so much. He deserved to be happy for the rest of his days, and she was going to make sure that he was.

The ceremony itself went by in a blur—her dad giving her away, lighting the unity candle that Gretchen held for TJ and Sam, TJ handing her bouquet and gloves to her mom, the words of the pastor, she and Sam saying their vows. When it was time to exchange rings, Sam kept a hand on one of his crutches to keep his balance and turned a little toward Dean, holding out his free hand, forearm crutch hanging on his arm.

Dean patted his suit pockets with a look of mock horror, pretending that he'd lost the ring. Sam's brow wrinkled, more in irritation than worry that Dean had lost the ring. Dean finally pulled the ring out of his hanky pocket, a patented Dean-loves-to-torture-Sammy grin on his face.

Sam rolled his eyes while everyone laughed and then turned his attention back to TJ. The feel of his fingers on her skin was warm and reassuring as he slid the gold wedding band onto her finger. The band was simple and complemented her engagement ring. The gold band she placed on his finger was devoid of any ornamentation and fit his long, tapered finger perfectly.

The pastor gave them a congratulatory smile. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Sam, you may kiss your bride."

Sam braced both hands back on the handgrips of his crutches and then leaned toward her, giving her a sweet, tender kiss that sealed the beginning of their life together. She felt a tiny movement in her belly in that moment and wondered if it was the babies giving their approval. A giggle bubbled up from her chest while Sam's lips were still on hers, and Sam and everyone else laughed with her.

They broke apart, both with huge grins on their faces, and she stood beside him and put her arm around his waist.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the preacher, "I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Sam Winchester."

Everyone erupted into applause and began to hug them. The whole thing didn't last more than fifteen or twenty minutes, but it was profoundly beautiful and moving. It was the perfect beginning for her life with Sam, and she felt like she was on top of the world. She had just married the guy of her dreams, and nothing would ever come between them.

XXXXXXXX

Two weeks after the wedding, TJ felt like shit. She was almost five months pregnant and was supposed to go for a checkup with Dr. Williams tomorrow, but she wasn't even sure she could wait that long. Her nausea had gotten worse in the last few days, despite the medication she was on, and she was getting headaches and feeling dizzy again.

It was the worst possible time. Sam was in the middle of his finals at Berkeley this week and still had a week to go, and she was about to begin her own final exams. She had been helping Dr. Rostom conduct review sessions for his classes and trying to study for her own classes, but the constant ache in her head made it difficult.

She kept telling herself she just needed to make it through one more week, but while her symptoms were similar to the hyperemesis, she had a gut feeling something else was wrong. Despite her lack of appetite and vomiting, she seemed to have gained weight, and everything was beginning to swell, even her face and hands. Dean teased her about eating too many cheeseburgers, but she didn't correct him because she knew he would tell Sam that something was wrong.

It made her stomach twist into a knot, knowing she was holding things back from Sam (okay, lying, actually), but he would freak and come back to San Diego, and that would be disastrous during his finals. If, by some long shot, she managed to talk him into staying, she was afraid he would feel guilty and be worried about her, distracting him from his finals. Either scenario wasn't good.

She told herself she just had to downplay things for one more week, and then she could be honest. Besides, hopefully Dr. Williams would know what the problem was tomorrow and give her some kind of medication to fix it. Maybe by the time Sam was done with his finals and came home, she would be feeling better again.

It was almost time for Dean to come home from work, and TJ wished he would hurry. She'd felt so bad today that Dr. Rostom sent her home early. She had been lying in bed for a couple of hours, dozing fitfully in the almost pitch-black room she shared with Sam when he was home, trying to ease her aching head. It seemed to be getting worse by the minute, however, and she was rethinking not telling Dean what was going on. Maybe she could talk him into not telling Sam. If her head didn't stop pounding, she wasn't going to have a choice. She felt so bad that a trip to the ER sounded like a relief.

Heather had texted her earlier in the day saying that she was off tonight and was coming over. TJ hoped Heather might know something that would alleviate her discomfort without having to make a trip to the ER.

She felt her wedding and engagement rings digging into the flesh of her finger, and it almost brought her to tears. Her hands and arms had swollen so much and so quickly the rings had become embedded, and she couldn't get them off. If she couldn't get the swelling to go down soon, she would have to have a jeweler cut the rings off. The thought was disheartening.

She was lying on her side, pinching the bridge of her nose like she'd seen Sam do when he had a headache. Rocket was lying in bed with her, his body molded protectively to her back. She reached a shaky hand behind her to pet him, and he licked her fingers. Suddenly, she felt him raise his head up, ears pricking, and she knew he heard either Dean's or Heather's keys turning in the front door lock.

TJ hoped it was Heather and that she would have a chance to talk to her about everything before Dean got home. She inhaled a deep breath and slowly sat up. Rocket sat up with her. The pounding in her head ratcheted up a notch at the movement, making her dizzy and causing her stomach to rebel. She placed a hand on her forehead. "This fucking sucks."

Rocket nudged her other hand with his nose in sympathy.

She continued the battle to get up off the bed, moving even slower to give her body time to adjust to standing up, and made her way to the door. As soon as she opened it, Rocket shot out and galloped down the hallway, then came running back a few seconds later. She was moving in slow motion down the hall, fighting dizziness and nausea with every step, and could hear both Dean and Heather in the living room. Rocket kept running to the living area and then back to her, whining intermittently.

She could hear Dean and Heather arguing in heated tones. She realized with amazement that Rocket was trying to get them to help her, but their argument was too intense to pay attention to him. TJ winced, both at the pain in her head and at the fact that Heather and Dean had been arguing a lot lately. She'd heard snippets of their conversations (although she honestly and truly hadn't been trying to eavesdrop) and knew it was about Dean's occasional hunts and the fact that Heather wanted him to train her to hunt with him. Naturally, he was opposed because he was afraid Heather would get hurt.

"Dean," Heather was saying, "you've said yourself there are women hunters. What about your friends Jo and Ellen? They sound very capable and good at what they do."

"They've been in the life for years, Heather—Jo her whole life. It's all she knows. You're different."

"Oh, right. I'm different because you think I had it easy growing up, that I'm too soft?"

Dean was quiet, and his silence said that was exactly what he thought.

TJ knew that would piss Heather off royally, so she decided it was a good time to intervene before things escalated. She emerged from the hallway, leaning on the threshold for support. "Hey, y'all," she said hoarsely, barely speaking above a whisper. Anything more would make her head hurt worse.

Dean and Heather were in a stalemate, eyes locked on each other and identical looks of stubborn anger on their faces. It didn't appear they'd heard TJ. Heather was the first to break the silence. "Fine. If you won't teach me, I'll find someone who will."

"Right. Like who?"

"I don't know. Maybe Bobby will."

Dean snorted. "No fucking way."

Her jaw clenched in fury, a rare showing for the usually laid-back Heather. The expression on her face was as fiery as her red hair. "Then maybe I'll find Ellen and Jo. Maybe since they're women, they won't be so pigheaded and chauvinistic!"

"Hey, y'all," TJ tried again, this time using all her strength to speak louder.

It worked. Heather and Dean both turned toward her, both surprised to see her standing there. TJ figured she must look as bad as she felt because Dean immediately abandoned the argument once he got a good look at her.

His brows sort of arched and furrowed at the same time in that unique, expressive way of his. "TJ," he barked with concern, "what's wrong?"

"I don't...feel so good."

He was next to her in three long strides, putting his arm around her for support. "Tell me something I don't know."

Heather immediately slipped into paramedic mode. "Get her to the sofa."

Dean obeyed, helping TJ over to the sofa. Once she was sitting down, Heather took her hands and looked them over. "How long have your hands and arms been swollen like this?"

"This bad? Couple of days, maybe."

"Do you have a headache?"

"Yeah."

"What about dizziness?"

"Yeah."

"Any other symptoms?"

"Sometimes my vision blurs and I've thrown up a few times."

Dean's expression was stormy. "Dammit, TJ. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was the hyperemesis, and I have an appointment with Dr. Williams tomorrow. I figured she'd tell me what was going on. I thought it could wait, but everything's been worse today."

"And you didn't want me to tell Sam," he accused.

She met his eyes, trying not to wince at the persistent pain in her head. "No. I didn't want him to know, and I still don't."

He shook his head. "Not an option. He'll kill me if I keep this from him."

"You can't tell him, Dean. He's in the middle of finals."

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Please. He's just got a few more days to go."

She could tell he was torn, that he knew how the news that TJ had taken a turn for the worse would affect Sam. He was right, though. Sam would probably kill him (kill them both, for that matter) for not telling. TJ felt bad for putting Dean in that position, but she really didn't have a choice. "Please, Dean."

Heather broke into the conversation, her pale-blue eyes serious and filled with concern. "Look, TJ. I think you might have preeclampsia."

TJ's heart sank. She'd read about preeclampsia in one of her pregnancy books. What the hell? Was she gonna get every damn thing that could go wrong in a pregnancy?

"What's that?" asked Dean.

"It means her blood pressure could be dangerously high. It's not something to fool around with. It can cause seizures." She placed her hands on TJ's shoulders. "Let's get you checked out and see how serious it is. We can argue whether to tell Sam once we know for sure what's going on."

TJ glanced at Dean, waiting to see if he would agree. He gave a curt, reluctant nod.

A few minutes later, TJ found herself in the back seat of the Impala on the way to the hospital—again. Her cell phone rang, and she dug it out of her purse. She had a hard time focusing on the screen because her vision was a little blurred, but she was finally able to make out that it was Sam. With a pang of remorse, she pressed the button to decline the call. She couldn't talk to him right now, didn't think she could manage to sound normal under the circumstances.

She looked up to find Dean's knowing, disapproving gaze on her in the rearview mirror and glanced away, guilty and ashamed.

TBC