Warning Signs

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I was watching (Y/N) sleep and she had this expression on her face. Almost as though she were in pain.

Knock Knock

Standing up, I opened the door and Warren was on the other side, informing me,

"We'll be moving in a few hours. I can feel your worry though."

"(Y/N) looks like she's in labor."

"What? Are you sure?"

"I remember when she was pregnant with Timothy. That expression of pure pain is etched into my memory forever."

"...Fine. I'm going out. Make sure you monitor her."

"Warren that's dangerous."

"If she goes into labor without medicine, she'll definitely die."

"..."

"Right. So, if you notice anything let me know."

"Warren, my skin is-"

"I know, Murphy. You start feeling...not right, let me know."

"Thank you."

"Mhm."

With that she left and I looked back at (Y/N), her hair was in her face. Going back over to her, I brushed her hair out of her face and noticed how warm she was.

'She's warm. Fever isn't good.'

Sitting on the edge of the bed, next to her, I could see her breathing and I was relieved by how normal it was.

Thirty minutes later, she woke up and I smiled down at her, whispering,

"Hey."

"I don't feel so good."

"Sick?"

"More like...no, it's too soon."

"Labor?"

"Warning signs."

Knock Knock

"Come in Warren."

She came in with alcohol, medicine, and antibiotics. Looking at us, she ran a hand through her hair and informed us,

"(Y/N) because of your condition. We're staying here until you have the baby."

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