Call of Duty Imagines: Captain Price

Sick (Version I)

(Brief semi-lemon. Scroll down to the "--" to skip)

You were both breathing hard, John's hands clutching you tightly against him. He exhaled a shaky breath and kissed your shoulder, working his way up your neck, across your cheek, and finally to your mouth. You were still moaning softly, gently running your fingertips over his skin and feeling the muscles beneath relax.

"I love you," he hummed quietly, resting his forehead on yours. 

You smiled. "I love you, too." You uttered a small gasp when you felt him pull out, just starting to get soft.

He chuckled warmly. "I love it when you do that... And I don't even have to do anything amazing."

"You're kinda big," you replied. "It's hard not to..."

John pulled you closer so your head was on his chest, and his chin was on top of your head. "You're amazing... I'm so glad you're mine."

You smiled and kissed his shoulder. "I wouldn't want anyone else."

You listened to his breathing as it slowed, and soon your breaths matched his, slowly coaxing you deeper and deeper into the blissfulness of sleep.

--

John came home to find you retching into the toilet. "You alright, hun?" he asked when you finally were able to catch your breath and clean up a little. 

You took a deep breath to be sure, and nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm okay," you said. When he still looked concerned, you smiled. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

He sighed and tried to grin. "Alright... If you say so."

By the end of the week, you hadn't stopped getting sick, and now you were having a hard time eating. Everything smelled bad, and stranger still, you had the most unearthly, but inexplicably powerful craving for sand and chalk, both things that were a, not good for your teeth, and b, (most importantly) NOT FOOD.

It was finally the day John found you doubled over the sink in tears that enough was enough. He came up behind you and gently placed a hand on your back. "What's going on?" he asked.

You splashed a little water on your face, only to continue crying. "I keep getting sick, and nothing smells good... I've torn our whole refrigerator apart, and I can't find what's making me sick to my stomach when I smell it." You bowed your head over the sink, feeling another wave of nausea. "John, what if I'm dying?"

He set his brows. "You're not dying, you'll be okay..." He turned on the faucet when you retched again. "Come on, let's get in you in the car. I'm taking you to the doctor."

You looked over your shoulder at him. "Are you sure?"

"Who else are we going to call? The vet?" 

With a grimace of uneasiness, you let him lead you to the car, and you headed for the doctor's office.

It was a long wait, and by then, your stomach was hurting from hunger. You felt weak, between the throwing up and not having eaten anything that morning, and you were shaking ever so slightly when the doctor took you back. John stood to come with, but the doctor insisted he take a seat and wait until they had run a few tests

It felt like hours. John waited and waited. Though he hadn't been worried when you arrived, he was beginning to feel a sense of dread. What had the tests found? It was taking so long; had they found something, and was it serious? What if it was nothing and he was letting himself get worried for no reason?

"Captain Price?" The doctor looked across the lobby at him and he stood up.

"How is she?" he asked once he was closer.

The doctor looked down the hall where you were being given a final eval by a nurse. "Before I answer, what's your relation to Miss (Y/N)?"

"She's my wife," he said. "Why?"

He nodded. "In that case, she's alright; we've had to give her some prescriptions to help with the nausea and sensitivity, but I'll let her tell you the rest of the diagnosis." The doctor looked back at John. "My nurse, Tabitha, will escort you both out; you have a wonderful day."

That was odd... What was that about? Was that even professional? John looked at you when Tabitha brought you over and he smiled. "Hi, honey."

Tabitha patted your shoulder. "I'll show you two to the door," she said.

You all walked to the door and thanked Tabitha. Once she was gone, John looked at you and cocked a brow. "The doctor said you had something to tell me?" he asked hesitantly.

You smiled and handed him a folded up piece of paper from your purse. "Actually, I thought I'd let you read it instead."

He took the paper and unfolded it. His eyes scanned back and forth over the words, and suddenly he stopped, blinking a few times. "... (Y/N)?" he asked looking up at you, confusion and disbelief written on his face.

"Congratulations, love," you said quietly. "You're gonna be a dad."

John was frozen for almost ten seconds, but then dropped the paper and swept you up in a hug. "Oh my God! We're having a baby!" He set you back down and looked at your belly, resting his hand over it. "Seven weeks... God, how did we not realize..?"

"I forgot to take my birth control," you said. "I thought I had a month left, but apparently, not the case..."

He pulled you into another hug. "To be honest, I'm a little happy you forgot."

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him. "To be honest, me too."