When Mei awoke sore and still a bit groggy, she didn't think too much of it.

At least, nothing beyond five more minutes, and then ugh, I overdid it again.

She groaned, squeezed her eyes shut, and stretched her arms and legs out like a cat. After a few moments she dropped her limbs with a satisfied sigh, then rolled over to face the bed's other occupant.

As much as she would have loved it if Red Son would be asleep when she saw him in the morning, hair fanned out on the pillow like in a romance novel, she knew that was a little too much to ask for. Instead, he sat up against the headboard, knees drawn up with a folding lap table angled so he could work. She couldn't see what he was drawing from her current angle, but she knew she'd probably be seeing a prototype of it soon.

"Morning~" she said in a slight sing-song voice, scooting closer under the blankets.

"Morning." Red Son put the pencil on the nightstand and lowered his legs, bringing the table with them. "How do you feel?"

"Sore again," Mei grumbled, wiggling closer until she was up against his hip. "Ugh, I thought it'd be fine by now."

"A muscle strain does take a while to heal," Red Son pointed out, sounding thoughtful.

For the past week, Mei had been waking up feeling sore, especially in her chest. It hadn't concerned either of them too much - Mei was pretty active, and they had been with Sandy shortly before the ache started, trying out some of his new weights. She assumed she'd strained something when she lifted a dumbbell, probably because she hadn't stretched as well as she thought she had, and just took an ibuprofen and resolved to take it easy.

But the mostly-superficial ache still hadn't gone away yet. It was starting to get annoying.

"I told you to take it easy, Dragon Girl."

"I did. I didn't lift anything heavy-"

Red Son stared, eyes half-lidded.

"...I helped Pigsy bring in a pallet of flour," she admitted.

"Mei…"

"There were a lot of heavy bags! Nobody else was there!"

"You could've gotten the Noodle Boy - he works there."

"Oh, c'mon, I made sure not to lift more than two bags at a time!" Mei pouted up at him, hoping to sway her husband with the puppy eyes. "That's what everyone said, 'don't lift more than ten pounds.' And I didn't!"

"Mei…"

"If it makes you feel better, I promise I won't lift anything else today," she interrupted.

"And use the heating pad?"

"Why bother?" She grinned up at him. "You're right here." Mei reached up one hand and tugged on his elbow. "C'mere and warm me up a little more before I have to get up - you're comfy."

She'd been giggling at the last part, but when Red Son suddenly flopped onto her and hugged her tight, it turned into shrieks of laughter.


A little heat, some tea, and Mei did feel a bit better when she pulled up to the shop an hour later. The soreness had gone down a bit, but she still felt… heavy, up top. And she had a bit of trouble putting her bra on.

That muscle strain must have been worse than she'd thought, she figured as she removed her bike helmet. She'd take an ibuprofen after she got some food in her stomach, then if she still felt sore tomorrow she'd head to a clinic to get an x-ray done. There was probably some inflammation.

"Hey hey~" she called out as she entered the shop. "Oh, is MK gone already?" she added, glancing around as if she expected to see her friend suddenly materialize.

"Breakfast orders started fast," Tang said from his place at the bar, lowering a bowl - his own breakfast, no doubt. Mei watched him push the empty bowl aside and take a book out, his usual routine. "You actually just missed each other."

"Ah, then I'll wait for him." Mei approached the bar and took a seat just one stool down from Tang. "I gotta eat breakfast anyway-"

"You skipped it?" That got Pigsy's attention, and he looked up to level a very harsh look at her.

"I slept in a bit longer," Mei defended herself. It was true, too, she'd fallen back asleep for a little while, so she'd actually only been without breakfast for about fifteen minutes. "Can I get a tofu bowl?"

The food was in front of her barely a few moments later. She didn't question how he'd already guessed what she'd be ordering - she'd been asking for tofu noodle soup for the past week. "Eat," Pigsy said sternly. "And no more skipping breakfast."

"I won't, I won't," Mei laughed as she started on her food. Despite the gruff tone, she did appreciate his words. And the sentiment behind them.

As rough as he could be at times, one thing she had learned about Pigsy a long time ago was that nobody went hungry or skipped a meal under his watch. Even if he complained about tabs running up, or about a certain "freeloader takin' advantage of the family discount," he'd never allow someone to starve.

She loved that about her family.

"I'm surprised Red Son didn't come with you," Tang said conversationally. Mei saw one of Pigsy's ears prick up, showing he was listening intently. "I mean, considering…"

"He got another idea in the middle of the night," Mei explained around a mouthful of food. ( "Don't talk with your mouth full," Pigsy said automatically.) "He'll be here later."

"Oh, what's this one?"

"Dunno. He didn't tell me." Mei tilted her bowl back to make it easier to eat. It was already halfway-gone. She couldn't help it; once that broth and the spongy texture of the tofu had hit her tongue, it was like her body suddenly decided it was starving, and she began to practically inhale her meal. Tang was clearly rubbing off on her. "I got a look at the blueprints on my way out, though. Looks like a new engine."

"I'm glad he's still doing something with those ideas of his," Pigsy admitted, though he sounded a little begrudging about it. "Instead of trying to take over the city-"

"Or running his own noodle cart and threatening your business?" Tang asked with a grin.

"-or that."

"Hey, hey, he hasn't tried taking over in like, two years," Mei reminded them. Finally starting to wind down, she put down her bowl. A little broth was still inside, swishing around a bit. She grabbed the noodle spoon to scoop it up. "And he likes cooking, he just realized he really doesn't like dealing with customers. I think taking those freelance inventing jobs was good for him."

"Oh, of course, nobody's questioning that."

"Hey, change of subject, you guys got an ibuprofen? My chest is still all sore," Mei said, putting her spoon down and gesturing to the anatomy in question.

That made Pigsy pause, and turn to face her. "Still?"

"Yeah. I think whatever I did was a little worse than I thought."

"You sure you didn't hurt yourself helping with the supplies yesterday?" Pigsy frowned across the bar at her. "I told you not to strain-"

"Oh, come on, each bag was only five pounds, I was… all… right…" Mei's voice slowly trailed off, growing fainter. She frowned, blinking as her gaze lowered to the surface of the bar.

"Mei?"

She didn't look up. Instead, her hand slowly moved to her stomach. She could feel it gurgling - hear it, too. And a strange sensation was swelling in her esophagus. Unconsciously, she started to curl in on herself, groaning faintly.

"Mei?" She heard Tang's book snap shut. "Mei, what's wrong?" He sounded worried. She couldn't blame him, considering what had happened the last time he'd seen her doubled over.

"Hey… hey, Pigsy, what was in those noodles?" she asked. Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. "Did…you try something new?"

"No, they're the same as-" He abruptly cut off, having apparently seen something Mei couldn't. "Oh, no no no - Tang, grab the-"

Mei barely had time to wonder what was wrong. Her body answered that question for her.

A swell of nausea overcame her as the air suddenly tasted sour. Before she could speak, she felt a small garbage bin being shoved into her hands ("In here, Mei, use this," Tang soothed), and then she pitched forward.

She coughed wetly, shoulders heaving as she gripped the bin like a lifeline, barely registering the hand rubbing her upper back. Between coughs and other noises, she managed to gasp out "God freaking..." and "What in the…" but never finished either. The hand between her shoulders rubbed gently, both men quietly waiting until it was over. A few moments passed with Mei just holding the garbage can and breathing heavily, eyes closed as she rode out the dizziness that'd overcome her. Then, when she was sure it was over, she uncurled and sat up again.

"Ohhh, my god…" she managed to croak out. "Oh, that was awful."

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm okay." Mei moved to put the garbage can down on the floor with a faint grimace. "Pretty sure it's all gone."

"You've never thrown up my noodles before," Pigsy commented, setting a glass of water in front of her. As Mei muttered her thanks and took a drink, he continued, "You're not sick, are you? Bai He said stomach flu's going around her school, maybe you caught it?"

Mei swallowed and shook her head. "Don't think so. Nothing else is really wrong."

"Except for your muscle strain," Tang pointed out. Then he paused, considering. "Maybe it's not a muscle strain."

"Well, it can't be my period. I always have the same premenstrual symptoms, and they never include-" Suddenly Mei stopped, blinking hard. Wordlessly, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone, quickly tapping on her calendar app. She made a few swipes, and yes, four days were marked in red, exactly 28 days after the previous time, and the previous time before that. But this time…

"I… I need to go," she said, sliding off the bar stool.

"Right now?" Pigsy called out to her. "You were just hurling your guts out!"

"Yeah, and now I'm not." Mei kept her tone light despite the acrobatics her insides had started doing all of a sudden. "I need to go do something - I promise I'll text later."

She thought she heard Pigsy grumbling something behind her, but she didn't pay it any mind. She was too busy hurrying back out to her bike.

She had to get to the drug store. Now.


Red Son was finally coming out of the zone when his phone buzzed next to him. Almost automatically, he reached to take it and check the screen.

A text from Mei:

Don't freak out, but I'm home and in the bathroom.

A few seconds later, another one, this time with a photo attachment.

Red Son's eyes widened slightly when he saw it, and the message attached.

Can you wait with me?

In an instant, there was a burst of flame and smoke, and he was moving to where Mei was.


The two sat in the bathroom, on the edge of the large tub, staring at the white stick that sat by the sink. Mei's phone had a timer going, and it was all she could do to not watch the numbers count down. Do not look, she told herself. You'll stress yourself out.

Next to her, Red Son heaved a great exhale. "You're sure," he said. It was a statement, not a question. He knew Mei was sure about this.

She nodded. "I threw up my noodles earlier," she admitted. "And you know my chest has been sore - when I got dressed today, my bra was really snug." She felt Red Son shifting beside her. "And I checked my calendar. I'm late."

"...that's pretty strong evidence," he hummed.

They fell into silence again. Mei tapped her free hand against one of her knees. All things considered, she thought, the two of them were handling this well. She was glad Red Son wasn't acting like the love interest in the new TV drama, Three-Day Cinderella, who just desperately shouted "How could this happen, when did this happen?"

They both knew how and when.

Red Son broke the silence, his voice as low as it'd been since he appeared in the middle of the bathroom. "If you're right… What do you want to do?"

"What do you want to do?" Mei countered, voice rising a bit in defense. "We haven't talked about this part."

"You'd be the one carrying them, dealing with potential consequences, you tell me."

"...I'd wanna keep them," she admitted. Mei looked at the floor, toeing at the tile. "I do like kids, and they like me. And we hadn't talked about it but… yeah. I do wanna… be a mom. I'd be cool with that." At Red Son's quiet hum, she tilted her head, staring at him from under her bangs. "You?"

"...ugh, gods, Dragon Girl."

"Come on. Be honest."

"...I'm an only child. You all know that." When Mei nodded, he continued. "When it was just myself and Mother, sometimes… during weaker moments… I imagined having a younger sibling. And I already know it's not the same, but bear with me! I imagined having a sibling to look after. To look up to me. And I always imagined I'd treat them… Sometimes, I'd tell myself, 'I wouldn't do this. I wouldn't. If I looked after a child, I'd not speak to them this way. I wouldn't grab their face this way.' When I grew older, the hypothetical child shifted from a sibling, to…" Red Son paused. His voice had started to grow thick, and he cleared his throat roughly. When he spoke again, he sounded his usual self. "When I was older, I started to instead think 'I would never treat my child like this.' I didn't even know who I'd have a child with, I wasn't even interested in anyone. But I kept thinking, and imagining, and…

I suppose this is a very roundabout way of saying: I want to keep them, too."

Mei leaned towards Red Son, her head against his shoulder. He felt warm as always. "We can go further into that later," she promised. "You don't have to take that bandage off yet."

Red Son hummed, turning away. There was another long pause, heavier than before.

He had to change the subject. So he said the first thing that popped into his head. "You think Gold Vision can see-"

"Oh, God, I hope not. That'd be way too weird!"

Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.

The sudden noise made them both jump. Mei lifted her phone and shut off the timer, looking a bit wild. "Okay. Okay, let's look. You nervous?"

"Me? The great Red Son, nervous about the display on a piece of plastic?!"

"Your shoulders are sparking," Mei pointed out with an anxious grin.

"...I am anxious. Not nervous."

"It's okay, me too. Let's look together?"


MK was pulling away from Miss Fang's house when he got a text alert. Assuming it was another order to pick up, he reached into his pocket and opened the message.

It wasn't a customer, or Pigsy. It was Mei.

mk
dude, you're my best friend, we want you to be the first to know

Before he could start typing a ? another message showed up. This time, a photo.

It was a plastic white stick, resting on Red Son's knee.

On the display was a bright blue plus-sign.

For a few fleeting seconds, he wasn't sure what he was looking at.

Then it hit him, and he nearly hit the neighbor's recycling bins.