Chapter 4: The Kill Switch

- SIERRA

I woke up to the strong smell of disinfectant and the rhythmic beeping of a monitor.

I blinked, the harsh overhead lights of the hospital room stinging my eyes.

An IV line was taped to the back of my hand.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

Aleena was sitting in a chair next to my bed, her face pale and her hands wrapped around a styrofoam cup. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week, her eyeliner smudged and her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Don't try to sit up yet," she snapped when I was trying to sit up.

"What... what happened?" I asked, my voice was a dry rasp.

"You passed out at the office," Aleena said, her voice dropping into that low, protective territory. "The doctor called it severe exhaustion and acute stress. Your body basically said, ‘enough is enough,’ and shut down."

She leaned in, her eyes rimmed with red. "You called me last night, but when the line just stayed open and silent, I knew something was wrong. I rushed over and found you lying unconscious on the floor. My heart nearly stopped. I thought..." She trailed off, her throat bobbing as she swallowed the rest of the sentence. "I thought I'd lost you. You really scared me, babe."

I looked around the room. "Is this the same hospital as Vivian...?"

"Yes," Aleena said quickly. "But different wing. Different floor. Different universe, I hope."

My heart sank anyway. He was here. In this building. Caring for her, while I was… what?

"Did you call Desmond?" I asked softly.

Aleena’s face hardened. "Of course, I did. He didn't pick up. I left him a message saying you were in the hospital." She paused, and her expression softened with pity.

I tried to remember the spreadsheets, the cold office, the stabbing pain in my gut. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Did he respond?"

Aleena shook her head and let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "He didn't answer your calls too. I checked your phone. He was too busy playing hero at the other room. But hey, forget him for a second."

She stood up, her chair scraping harshly against the linoleum. "Wait. I’m calling the doctor back in here. She wanted to wait until you were fully awake to explain the labs."

Before she could reach the door, it swung open. Dr. Esther Morrigan stepped in, looking down at a digital chart with a clinical, solemn expression. She didn't offer a fake smile; she just pulled a stool up to the side of the bed.

"Glad to see you're back with us. Sierra, right?" Dr. Morrigan began.

I nodded.

"Aleena probably told you about the stress and the exhaustion. That’s the easy part to fix, just rest and hydration."

I tried to nod, but my head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. "And the stomach pain? Is it food poisoning?"

The doctor’s eyes flickered to Aleena, then back to me. "We’re still running the toxicology to see how it is. But beside that, there’s something else. Something the blood tests picked up that changes how we treat you from here on out."

The air in the room suddenly felt very thin. I looked at Aleena, her face pale with panic.

"Is it... is it permanent?" I whispered, my mind racing through every worst-case scenario.

Dr. Morrigan set the tablet down and looked me straight in the eyes. "In a way, yes. For the next eight months, at least. Sierra, the tests are conclusive. You’re pregnant."

The words hit me harder than the collapse ever could. For a second, the heart monitor beside the bed started to spike, a frantic beep-beep-beep filling the silence.

"Pregnant?" I breathed the word out like it was a curse. What the fuck?

"About four weeks," the doctor confirmed. "Which is why we need to be extremely careful with your recovery. Your body isn't just fighting for you anymore."

I sank back into the thin hospital pillow, my hand instinctively ghosting over my still-flat stomach. In that one second, the "old" Sierra, the one who cried for Desmond and begged for his crumbs of affection, had died. I couldn't afford to be her anymore. Not if I wanted this baby to survive the storm that was coming.

Aleena sat on the edge of the bed, her expression shifting from terrified to delighted but she kept quiet at the moment.

The doctor spent the next few minutes droning on about folic acid, morning sickness, and "avoiding unnecessary stress", which was a joke, considering my life was a walking heart attack. She finally scribbled some notes and slipped out, leaving a heavy, ringing silence behind.

Dr. Morrigan adjusted her glasses, her eyes glued to her tablet as she talked to me.

"You'll need to start a high-dose folic acid immediately," she said flatly. "And the morning sickness, it’s going to hit hard given your current exhaustion levels. Keep dry crackers by the bed."

I stared at the flickering fluorescent light on the ceiling, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Dry crackers. Right. That’ll definitely fix my life falling apart.

"But the most important thing," the doctor continued, finally looking up. "Is avoiding unnecessary stress. You need a calm environment. No heavy lifting and absolutely no emotional taxing. Your body can’t handle another spike right now. You need total peace if you want this to work."

I almost laughed. My life turned upside down, and she was prescribing 'peace' like it was something I could just pick up at the pharmacy.

"I'll try," I managed to rasp out.

"Don't just try. Do it." She scribbled a few quick notes on a physical chart, tucked it under her arm, and headed for the door. "I’ll have the nurse bring in your medication. Rest, Sierra. I mean it."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving a heavy, ringing silence that felt louder than the machines.

Aleena didn't wait for the door to fully click shut. She didn't look terrified anymore—she looked like she’d just won the lottery.

"So..." she started, leaning in with a playful, knowing wink. "I’m guessing this is Desmond’s handiwork?"

I stared at the ceiling, my heart doing a slow, heavy thud. "Who else would it be?"

She let out a low whistle, teasing me with a grin that didn't quite hide her shock. "Damn, Sierra. When did this even happen? You guys haven't exactly been 'couple of the year' lately."

"That one night," I whispered, the memory feeling like a fever dream. "The night he actually came home late and drunk. Just once. I didn't think... I mean, what are the odds?"

Aleena raised an eyebrow. "Apparently, the odds are sitting right there in your stomach. Does he know?"

"He doesn't even remember the night. He was half-drunk and left immediately." I looked at my hands, feeling a cold sort of resolve settle over me. "And as far as I'm concerned, he never needs to find out. I'm keeping this baby for myself."