”My baby, my baby…”

Poor boy was scared for his life.

I mean, can you blame him? You just called the medic, whining about your period cramps, when he has no idea how to tend to them.

He’s a medic, he should know, he told himself. Will just felt extra bad that he couldn’t care for you properly.

The only thing the could do was sit next to you, rubbing you stomach, while you were tensing your body like your life depends on it.

“You sure you’re fine? You don’t need any tea, or food, or..?” He asked for the billionth time.