In Sickness and In Health

YT

I roll my eyes at my fingers bumbling over the braid. There’s a reason I keep my hair short. Who has time to worry about things like this when it’s people to kill?

“The point of me coming over here was so I didn’t have to do my own hair,” I whine, braiding the blonde strands down as they get smaller and smaller.

Baby Girl meets my gaze in the mirror of Wyn’s glamor room. She’s starting on the last braid by my forehead, while Wyn braids down the one before it. “We both gave you braiders you could have used; you chose us, so you need to help.”

“You think I’d trust just anyone in my head?!” I balk. She can’t be serious.

Wyn snorts, expertly braiding down the braid in seconds before taking over for Baby Girl. “You know if you’re having girls, you need to learn how to do hair.”

I roll my eyes before shifting them to my bulging baby bump, automatically curling my lip.

That damn Reemie Pooh.

My shoulders deflate as Baby Girl takes the braid from my fingers and takes over for me.

“Still not excited?” she murmurs.

“I… don’t know how to feel.”

It’s the truth, one I’ve only told the women in this room. Macy has proven to be fertile and secretly ecstatic about it, and Dallas–I love her, I do. But she wouldn’t understand.

Baby Girl is a Young, and Wynter Snow is not as aloof and naïve as she used to pretend to be. Both of them have some sort of trauma around pregnancies, like me. Maybe not the exact same, but enough to get why every day I wake up saturated in sweat.

Reemie and I love some raw sex, but we weren’t planning for a child, let alone twins. Two babies, growing inside of me. I’m not prepared. And after the last appointment I had, I don’t feel anything but dread.

Wyn steps out to get the water she has boiling on her stove, while Baby Girl gets in the other chair in the makeshift salon Wyn turned her second bedroom into. Sympathy is pouring from her in waves, and while I’ve been waiting years for my little sister to care about me like this, I truly hate the reasons why now.

“Is it such a bad thing if one or both of them are deaf?”

“No,” I immediately deny. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I just… I don’t like… not being in control.”

I swipe runaway tears violently as my lower lip trembles. My husband’s spawn are making me more emotional than normal, and it makes me itchy.

“And it’s not just that,” I continue, moving the stiff braids behind my shoulder.

Baby Girl looks at me expectantly, while Wyn walks back in with a steaming tall cup of water.

I lick my lips, averting my eyes to the white furry rug to the right of me. “What if… I’m not a good–”

“Oh, hell no,” Wyn interrupts, dipping sections of my braids into the cup. “You can’t be serious. Is she serious?”

“Wyn–”

“Brina,” Wyn admonishes, handing her the cup and grabbing the towel to pat the braids dry. “You are so understanding, and we love you for it. But we aren’t gonna give life to her irrational fears. You’re gonna be a great mother. Look at how you are with Angel and Genesis? You know Peanut is mad because Austin takes to you, too. You’re gonna be a great mommy, my girl. And it’s nothing for the rest of us to take an ASL class at the Center.”

She pulls on my braids hard, but I let her make it because she’s speaking life into me.

“Well, she’s right,” Baby Girl says, shrugging.

I sigh, falling back while they talk about different signs they already know. My individuals are barely brastrap length, so when they’re dry, Wyn wraps them in a bun on the top of my head. I went with knotless, since my roots have grown out, but the braiding hair is still a platinum blonde, so I still kind of look like myself.

“Well,” I announce, hopping out of the chair. “I need to make myself feel better.”

Wyn freezes while wiping the water off the floor with her foot on the towel. She glances at a doe-eyed Brina before meeting my gaze.

“I have an early flight.”

“I have a date,” Brina announces, grinning.

I roll my eyes. “Fine. I miss Prince anyway.” 

“Should you be linking with him while… you know.” Wyn gestures toward my growing bump.

“That’s my brother, Wyn.” I grin while they share another glance. “Thank you for doing my hair. Let us know when you get back and we can go to Guiliano’s. Take me to my brothers, sister!”

I simper as Baby Girl and Wyn hug and hold her hand all the way down to the visitor garage.

“Love–”

“I won’t do anything to jeopardize the babies. But I’m itchy, and antsy, and I need to make myself feel better.”

Baby Girl sighs but she listens. “Casey’s gonna be mad.”

She’s not afraid of her husband; she thinks that would stop me. Set has pseudo-adopted me as a sister, and we’ve grown very close against my will. Like Ty-Ty, they’ve latched on, sending me memes and bothering me and trying to act as a conscience outside of my body.

“Baby Girl, you do know I run everyone around me, right?” I smirk, cackling when she scoffs.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that.”

---

I ease into the front door, turning off the alarm at lightning speed. All the lights are off, thankfully. The house is dark, since it’s well after three in the morning.

Surprisingly, I haven’t gotten one call from my Reemie Pooh.

Of course he has my location, but I turned it off after Brina dropped me off, so I was expecting a least a call. Still, I creep to the guest bathroom and lock myself inside.

As the shower warms up, a smile spreads on my face as I stare into the mirror. My pupils are still dilated. And I feel calm. Content.

Capable.

I take my time scrubbing the grime and gunpowder smell off of me, until only the sugar scrubs remain. My nose has been finicky, but lavender is okay for now. My skin is soft and clean and moisturized by the time I slip into one of Reemie’s shirts and boxers I keep in the guest room dresser for nights like this, when I need to decompress in the shower alone.

When I finally make it upstairs to our room, only Reemie is in the bed. Angel must be with Katrina. I freeze, until I hear Reemie’s soft snore, then I hurry and slip into the covers beside him.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll hear about my disappearing act. At least I’ll be able to get a few hours of sleep beforehand.

I’m just dozing off when Reemie’s hand palms my belly as his teeth graze my ear.

“The fuck you was at today?” he growls into my ear. His other hand pulls down my boxers, and in my half-sleep haze, I lift my hips to help him.

“Wyn and Sabrina–”

“After that, Love. And don’t lie.” After the boxers are off my ankles, he slides between my legs, making me hiss.

I’m a mess already. This is what my husband does to me. Make me a wet, whimpering, emotional mess full of his babies.

“I was at my Playground,” I whine, spreading my legs. He takes the invitation, pushing one finger inside of me, then two, and lazily pumps.

“You torturin’ and killin’ niggas while you pregnant with my babies?” Reem tilts my head so that I’m facing him. When my lids flutter open, I can see rather than feel how mad he really is.

So instead of playing that up, I tell the truth.

“Prince got me carcasses from a butcher. I got to shoot and stab them and lost track of time.”

He searches my eyes for way longer than I feel like he should, before he rolls over on top of me and lines up at my entrance.

I moan loudly as he slides in, my nipples tightening to hard points. If all pregnancy sex is like this, I see why Shaddy keeps my godsister with child.

Reemie’s rough hands interlock with mine as he sets a slow stroke.

“Reemie, I need more,” I whine, thrusting my hips.

He drops my hands to grab my hips, stilling me.

“You came in this fuckin’ house like you was creepin’, Love. Be lucky I’m giving you this.”

His thumbs dig into my creases deliciously and I acquiesce, turning my head to the side. I hate when men are right.

“Love.”

“What.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I meet his gaze again, squeezing my muscles for good measure.

But he doesn’t budge. Just keeps stroking me, deep, but slow.

“Talk to me, baby. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

Tears line my lids immediately. My heart cracks open as my hands go to my half-covered bump.

“I’m scared,” I whisper.

One of his hands palms my belly button, in between my hands. His ring and pinky fingers touch my fingers, and I shift them so that they’re on top.

“What are you scared of?”

“Everything,” I sob. Reemie lowers himself, shifting inside of me until we are nose to nose.

He wipes my tears as I cry, my shoulders shaking involuntarily. After he wipes each tear, he kisses where it stopped on the side of my face.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “But you can be scared with me, baby. You ain’t gotta hide that. We not hiding no more, right?”

I nod profusely, chasing his lips but he evades me, lifting up slightly.

“Yes. N-no more h-hiding.”

Reemie sits up all the way, and begins thrusting again. This time, he builds his pace, holding onto my legs as my orgasm starts at the tips of my toes.

“Everything is gonna be okay, because no matter what, it’s us. In sickness and in health, wifey. That’s what we promised each other. I meant that shit. Did you mean it?”

“Yes!” I moan. Reemie finds my spot so easily, and starts drilling me, hitting it over and over.

“If we can handle tryna kill each other, we can handle three lil’ crumbsnatchers. That’s light work. Deaf, blind, whatever. They gon’ be perfect because they’re ours, and because we love ‘em.”

“I love you,” I groan as my orgasm crests. He grabs my hands as I squeeze, my back levitating off our bed. 

He expands inside of me, my orgasm setting him off. 

“Shit! I love yo ass, too. Fuck,” he groans, emptying everything he has inside of me. 

My back hasn’t touched the bed yet before he’s grabbing me by my throat and pulling me upright.

“You ever in yo fuckin’ life go all day without checking in, I will lock yo ass up and throw away the key. And take this fuckin’ choker off before you come to bed, Love. I’m tired of tellin’ yo ass.”

I squeeze him as hard as I can with my pussy while my fingernails dig into his wrist. “But I thought you like it when I wear the jewelry you get me?”

He pulls my bottom lip with his teeth. “Only when that’s the only shit you got on. Did you hear what I said?”

I nod, pecking his lips. “Yes, husband. I will check in every two hours as outlined in our wedding vows.”

“Good,” he smirks, kissing me back. He slips out of me, backing off the bed to give me room to get up.

“Let’s go clean up. I need a midnight snack before we go back to bed.”

I squeal, rushing by him to our bathroom. When he slaps my ass, I know exactly what midnight snack he’s talking about.