The Unexpected

Chapter 11

Edit: 2/24/20
It has just occurred to me that there is a scene in this chapter that may be upsetting to sensitive parties. I won't give it away to those who are comfortable reading it, but know it contains injury while pregnant. Please, read with caution. If you wish to skip this stop at 'My foot slips.' And continue at the asterisks (***).

"Don't freak out,"

***

Four hours earlier...

July 29th, 2025- Six Weeks Later- 6 Months-

Yuri's POV 1st Person- 11 am-

I'm an idiot, This text comes in at 11 am and I smile as I see the contact,

Beka: I'm an idiot

Yuri: Yes, you are an idiot

Beka: No, I mean I have a stupid question- thanks by the way,

Yuri: No problem- what's your question?

Beka: Which way do you rotate for a Donut spin?

Yuri: You're right, you are an idiot

Beka: Very funny, now help me before Yakov makes me do it again!

Yuri: You're an Olympic medalist, how the hell do you not know this?

Beka: Please!

Yuri: Idiot. Which way do you spin on a Scratch?

Beka: On my left foot, counterclockwise, why?
Beka: I'm an idiot

I grin as my husband's second text comes through, endeared by his utterly competent incompetence.

Meow, Potya stares at me pointedly, as if trying to tell me something. I glance at the clock on my phone and see that she is; it's 11 am, I normally have lunch around now which means she normally gets a bite of whatever I'm eating. I set my book down with a yawn, having been reading on my bed, and mark my page. I grip the bedframe and struggle to my feet, relying on its help to stay upright. My center of gravity's shifted which makes even the simplest of tasks, standing up, for example, a challenge. I roll my eyes, me; the world-renowned figure skater, who never gets dizzy, almost never falls, skates like a bird about to take flight; clinging to a bed. I grab my phone off the covers where I dropped it and leave the room, Potya following me as I make my albeit slow way downstairs.

I reach the top of the stairs when I feel kick to my abdomen. I've been feeling the little kicks all morning and they're really starting to hurt, especially this one. I place my hand on my large bump and push down gently, receiving a particularly powerful, and painful, kick in return. "Stop it," I groan, pressing my hand further down and pausing as I set my foot down on the first step.

My foot slips.

I tumble down the stairs, trying to stop myself but being unable to. I land in a crumpled heap at the bottom, trembling and gasping. I lie there for a second, not moving as I wait for the pain to subside. After a few moments pass, I sit up slightly, wincing at the motion in my arm. I lean against the staircase, breathing heavily and cradling my injured arm against my chest. The other stretches out shakily, my hand resting on my stomach, my entire body trembling. It's at this moment I realize the kicking has stopped. I let out a quiet whimper as I press my hand into it, feeling nothing in return. Slowly, carefully, I feel around me for my phone, finding it on the second step up, screen shattered. I type in the number and wait for the other line to pick up,

***

I sit in the emergency room with my right arm in a sling, apparently today's been a busy day so no one's seen me yet, except to take down my name, emergency contact, and the nature of my visit. They wrapped my arm quickly, and started to examine me but got called into one of the trauma rooms for something more pressing. That was over fifteen minutes ago and no one's seen me since. I'm starting to get really worried, I don't like this not knowing, what if there's something wrong and I find out when it's too late.

After what feels like years the curtain in front of my bed's pushed back and a doctor steps through it, smiling apologetically. "Hi, I'm so sorry this has taken so long, Doctor O'Lyle was supposed to see you but got called in on an emergency. I was only just given your file, my name's Doctor Scryte, I'll be your physician." He's so cheerful it makes me want to burst into tears or slap him or both, "What brings you here today?" He asks me with that same bright smile and I have to fight very hard to keep my voice steady and it shakes even then,

"I fell down the stairs," I tell him, and he makes a note on his clipboard,

"Yes, so I see, how are you feeling after that?" I gape at him, my eyes wide and incredulous, he can't be serious. He must see this because he lowers his cheerful demeanor and gives me a reassuring smile, "I promise these questions are relevant, they'll help in the long run."

I nod and close my eyes briefly, willing myself to sound strong and not like I'm about to break into a million pieces. "My arm hurts," I say, my voice still weak and shaky, "It really hurts, and I have a high pain tolerance so that's a lot for me," He nods and makes a note, "I'm a little dizzy too, like my head is swimming," I tell him and I see his eyebrows crease, scribbling something more urgently than before,

"Did you hit your head when you fell?" He asks me, determinedly airily but I can see right through his voice to the worry behind it,

"No, yes- I don't know," I say, dismissing the question; who cares if I hit my head? That doesn't matter to me, "I don't remember, it happened so quickly, but look, I'm fine, don't worry about me. It's my baby, it was kicking like crazy before I fell but now-" My voice breaks and I feel the doctor's eyes on me, "Now it's not moving," I finish and feel myself start crying again, Please god be okay, please please be okay,

"Why don't you call your husband while I run some tests," The doctor says and leaves the small curtain enclosed area around my bed.

I reach out to grab my phone, sitting broken on the table beside me. My hand trembles as I type in Otabek's number, and take a deep breath before calling. I try to collect myself and make my voice more stable, Otabek can't hear me like this, if I'm breaking down he'll be ten times worse, and he'll be terrified as it is.

"Don't freak out," I say as the call clicks on.