Matt Casey's nieces and nephew

Chapter 33

A/N: I'm not going to write about the last episode until I see what happens, although I am fairly confident Casey lives. I just want to see how things pan out as I have a few ideas. So until I see the new episodes, these next few chapters will take place before that episode. This is a short chapter.

Grace tossed and turned for the next few hours, drifting in and out of sleep, feeling dizzy. She got up feeling sick again and headed to the bathroom. She tried to be quiet in case some of the guys in the house were awake but she never got sick that often and it always made her eyes water. She flushed the toilet and sat back against the stall wall and waited a few minutes, hoping it would pass. She felt horrible. She was really tired, nauseous and dizzy. The feelings seemed to come in waves and it wasn't going away.

"Grace," Mills called from outside the stall door.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She said, not making any effort to move.

"Still not feeling any better?" He said.

"I thought I was." She mumbled as she came out of the stall. "I was wrong."

"You're not looking so good." He said as she rinsed her mouth out.

Grace smirked. "Good to know the outside matches the inside."

"Come on," He said. "I'll make you some toast."

Grace followed him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. The room was empty and she glanced at the clock and realized it was only five thirty. Grace barely had the energy to life herself up to sit on the counter like she always did when Mills cooked. She found it easier to talk to him like that without getting in the way and without anyone hearing their conversations.

Mills put a piece of bread into the toaster and opened the fridge to grab a bottle of Gatorade. Before handing it to Grace he felt her head and her glands quickly. "Well, I think it's safe to say you have the flu kiddo. But at least shift is over in a few hours so you can go home."

"Is that supposed to be the bright side?" She asked. "I can throw up in my own bathroom?"

Mills grinned. "Better than throwing up here."

"True," Grace said as the toast popped up and he grabbed it for her. He put some butter on it before handing it to her. Grace put it down, not sure if she was ready to eat. She watched him put the coffee on and start to pull out eggs, vegetables and cheese from the fridge. He was getting everything ready to make omelets for breakfast.

When he pulled out the bacon, the look of it made Grace queasy and Mills laughed at her reaction. "Sorry, I forgot that raw bacon is probably the worst thing to dangle in front of someone who has the flu, or in front of someone who is pregnant."

Grace smirked but a sudden fleeting thought entered her mind. She began to rack her brain, trying to figure the dates out and trying to remember when her birth control pills changed to sugar pills. She realized she was a few days late and that this could be a lot more than just the flu. She began to nibble at her toast, mulling the worry over as Mills chopped up vegetables and grated cheese.

"Peter," She said quietly, after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" He answered, not looking up from his cutting.

"I can talk to you right?" She asked. "About anything? No judgement?"

He looked up then. "Of course," He said with a frown. "What's wrong?"

Grace looked at him and he could see the worry in his eyes. "What if," She struggled and took a breath. "What if it's not the flu?"

"What do you mean?" Mills asked but then it dawned on him. "Oh," He put the knife down and walked over to stand in front of her. "What makes you think it's not the flu?"