Yesterwary

Demi heaved as partially-digested food plummeted into the toilet from her mouth.

“Are you okay?” Bastian called from the hall.

“Fine,” she wretched.

“Can I get you anything?” His nerves were buzzing with worry, having never dealt with a pregnant woman before.

“Go away.” She leaned her head against the cool wall, brushing a trickle of drool from her chin with a piece of toilet paper. Her nerves were running out, having never been a pregnant woman before.

“Water? A damp towel?” he pressed on.

“Fuck off, Bastian!”

Demi groaned as she crawled back into bed. Bastian approached cautiously, setting a glass of water on the nightstand, and wrapping a cool, damp towel around her neck.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“Do you want me to run down to the restaurant and tell them you won’t be in today?”

Demi nodded into her pillow, but called out just as he reached the bedroom door. “Will you ask Xander to make us a pizza?”

“Sure. What kind?”

“Pepperoni and mushroom,” she said. But at the grips of a sudden wave of nausea, she continued, “Ugh, no, wait. Neither of those things. Just cheese. And… shrimp.”

“Cheese pizza and shrimp. Got it.”

“No, shrimp on the pizza. Cabbage, too.”

She couldn’t see Bastian’s look of disgust, but she probably wouldn’t have cared if she could.

“Okay,” he said reluctantly, grabbing his jacket and heading for the stairs.

“And pineapple!” she shouted, just before the front door closed.

Even through the nausea, Demi managed to drift off to sleep.

“Demetria…”

Demi’s eyes fluttered open against the hazy light from the window. At first, she thought the sound was just the remnants of a dream, but it came again.

“Demetria, where are you?”

She sat up, and wiped the sleep from her eyes, briefly confused by her surroundings. For a moment, she had thought she would find herself back in her own bed, in her parents’ house, with Margo about to burst through the door. But she soon realized that she was still in Yesterwary. It hadn’t all been a terrible dream, and the voice was coming from outside, from the fog.

Demi reached for the cup of water Bastian had left on her nightstand, and hastily downed the entire thing, before running to the bathroom. She was no longer nauseated, but her bladder felt as though it were about to erupt.

The mirror showed the reflection of a girl she barely recognized. Her eyes were ringed in dark circles, and her lips were so pale, they could have been absent of color entirely. She opened the medicine cabinet and clutched the bottle of vitamins the doctor had given her weeks ago. With a handful of water from the sink, she forced the giant pill down her throat, and sleepily meandered her way back to the bed.

“Demetria…”

She pulled the covers up over her head, hoping it might help block out the sound. She was in no mood to be driven insane by a collection of water droplets suspended in the air. Not that she would ever be in the mood for such a thing, but especially not now.

The fog kept calling to her, and she kept trying to block it out, until, eventually, every pillow and blanket in the house was on top of her head, as well as most of her wardrobe. She’d realized the voice wasn’t so much being projected at her as it was being projected from within her own mind, but she still had to try.

“Demi?” The voice was different, this time. Muffled, and deeper. A man’s voice—a real voice. “What the hell?”

She pushed the heap of blankets and pillows and clothing from her head, and sat up to find Bastian staring at her with a look of utter confusion and slight concern.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, setting down a box of pizza at the end of the bed.

Demi thought of when the fog had been calling to him, and how upset she’d been when he had neglected to tell her.

“It started calling me,” she said, reaching for the food.

“The fog?”

“No, the fucking Pope!” Demi raised an eyebrow at herself, surprised by her own outburst. She began to apologize, but Bastian chuckled and shook his head.

“Why would it call you now? You’re miserable,” he said, grimacing as she bit into a piece of the shrimp, cabbage, and pineapple pizza.

“I’m not miserable,” she said, making a face and instantly concluding that she had made a terrible mistake. In that moment, she decided that she would not be permitted to make pizza-topping choices whilst her body contained an extra human inside of it. “I mean, this is far from pleasant, but… I’m not miserable. I don’t regret our decision. I regret asking for this awful pizza… but not our baby.”

They shared a smile, and Bastian curled up next to her on the bed.

“Don’t you have to go to work?” she asked.

“I convinced someone else to cover my shift. I’m all yours, today. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Demi snuggled into his chest and closed her eyes, trying her best to imagine that the silence was filled with two, soon-to-be three, heartbeats.

“Demetria…”