Terrible Things Part 8
Word Count: 1,953
I gasped and sat up straight in bed, holding my protruding belly with wide eyes. My heartbeat quickened, but I relaxed a little bit as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe it had just been a dream. I’d had quite a few baby-related dreams in the about five months since Dean and I had gotten the news that we were going to be Mommy and Daddy. But this one felt different. This one felt real.
And there it was again. Just a quick jolt, but unmistakably solid and there.
“Dean,” I said in an urgent whisper so as not to wake up Sam in the next room over or alert Cas to the possibility that something was wrong. He’d already barged in during my morning sickness stage in a panic, which wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned on telling him. “Dean, wake up.” I shook his shoulder.
That got his attention, and he jerked against the blankets with a startled jump and scrambled to sit up, looking up at me. “What? What is it, is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s okay.” I grinned ear to ear at him in the darkness, taking his hand and gently guiding it to my stomach, rubbing my thumb over his wedding ring. “The baby’s kicking.”