Wylie locked the front door and turned, his eyes landing on the cell phone exactly where he'd left it that morning. Well, at least it hadn't been lost. He checked it and saw nothing but a missed call from Vega, but no voicemail.

He could hear the shower running. Vega had had a doctor's appointment that day, and he was excited to hear about how it went. He was tempted to go into the bathroom and greet her, but without having had his phone all day, he wanted to catch up on the news. Settling down on the couch, he booted up his iPad and opened his news app. He was on the third article when the shower turned off, and it was only a few more pages of reading when his wife appeared. Wylie looked up and smiled at her. "Hey."

"Hey." She looked tired. Wylie felt a pang of sympathy. He knew she'd been having trouble sleeping. Vega got closer, and the sympathy pang turned to one of concern. She didn't just look tired. She looked upset. "Michelle," he said, standing up and dropping the iPad on the couch. "What's the matter?"

His mind was racing. If there was something seriously wrong with her or the baby, she would have called him at work. Or the doctor's office would have called him. "Michelle?"

She sighed, throwing her hands up. "I can't work."

"What?"

"The doctor says I shouldn't go to work until after the baby is born."

"Why?"

She sighed again. "Because I have a million little things wrong with me and it all adding up would put me at risk these last couple months."

"Are they putting you on bed rest?"

"No. So there's that, I guess."

Wylie tried to hug her, but she backed up. "I can't do anything. I can't even do my damn job and grow a kid at the same time. I'm useless."

"Michelle," Wylie said. "No. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

He thought, with the way her eyes flashed, that he was going to get a volatile response. But she simply lowered her eyes and let out a quiet breath. "I'm losing it again."

Wylie lifted a hand, resting it against her cheek. Vega looked up at him. "I just want to be normal again. And I never will be."

She had told him a few months back that carrying their son was helping her learn to love what her body was still capable of. But Wylie knew better than to bring that up now. Because now, it was the pregnancy that was taking away the things she'd been doing even before the shooting. Wylie took in a frustrated breath, dropping his hand and turning away. "Michelle, I know I can't even pretend to know the challenges you're facing. But I don't know what to say."

"I want you to say exactly what I need to hear," she said, "but I don't know what that is and I do know that it's unreasonable to ask you to read my mind when I can't even do it. But I still wish you could."

Wylie dropped back down on the couch. "I know. And I wish I could too."

She pushed the iPad out of the way and eased onto the couch next to him. "I'm sorry that loving me is so hard."

Wylie reached out and wrapped his hand around one of hers. "Loving you is the best thing I have ever done."

"Stop. I'm frustrating."

"Yeah," Wylie admitted. "But there's I'm purposefully trying to be a bitch frustrating and I'm going through a lot frustrating." Leaning over, he kissed her temple. "I can be difficult too."

Vega scoffed.

Wylie stayed quiet, lightly squeezing her hand. He still didn't know what to say. He didn't blame her for being so frustrated – and this was probably worse than in most situations because they worked at the same place. He would be going in every day and she would be home, knowing that he was doing the work that she wanted to be doing, too. Finally, he tapped his knee and then shifted, angling to face her. "I love you. I so wish I could make you feel better."

She leaned back against the couch. "Thanks."

He kissed her temple again, and then her cheek. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

"Me too," Vega said. "Because all day I've been wanting to have sex and now that's on the list of don'ts from the doc."

Wylie gave a little laugh. "Well hey. Just another eight weeks until he's here, and then another…what? Six?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're really not helping here."

She started giggling, and Wylie smirked. "Right, sorry." She cleared her throat. "So how was work?"

"We don't have to talk about that."

"No. I know. But…" she shrugged. "I think I want to. If I don't know what's going on, I'll feel even more disconnected. And that's just going to make me feel worse."

"Okay." Wylie thought back. "So Cho came in a bit late today, and Jane had taken apart one of those greeting cards that played music and put the player part in the hinge of his door, so as long as the door was open, whimsical music was playing. And he couldn't figure it out until…"