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12 weeks.
Chilli was almost out of the first trimester.
Soon, she and Bandit could tell all their family and friends. (Other than Chris and Bob, that is. The two couldn’t help themselves, they just had to tell someone!)
She could also look at baby clothes, Chris made it her next midterm mission to plan the baby shower (bless her, she had been there for Chilli so much since her own mother passed a few years prior), and she could even makeover the guest room.
It was a little early, yet she insisted that they get it out of the way.
“Are you sure pink is the way to go?!?” Bandit asked one more time as he held the thick brush in his paw, letting the thick excess liquid ooze back into the bucket.
“Yes, love, I’m sure. I’m about 98% sure this pup is a girl, I just feel it,” she spoke as she rubbed her belly which was now starting to show very slightly.
“Ya, I’m just not as confident as you are. He’s not gonna-“
“It’ll get him away from gender norms. Our baby can like whatever they want, and if they don’t like the pink in threeish years from now we’ll gladly redo it. Till then, I think this is a lovely shade.”
Bandit gave her a sly smile and shook his head smoothly.
“Whatever, they had better know how to skid.” He replied as he applied the first coat of paint to the blank wall, carefully glossing each stroke.
“This isn’t the 80s, Banddidums,” Chilli mocked playfully as she moved closer to the sliver bucket.
“So?!? That’s irrelevant, our child will be hip and not a total geek.”
“I don’t even think skids are hip these days-“
“They are in this house!”
“Kay stud, just don’t trip over that rattle on the floor.” She points as she sits on the rocking chair.
Chilli goes back and fourth as she watched Bandit stroke the wall.
“Ugh, what is that doing here?” He turns to see the yellow toy staring back at him. Bandit casually kicks it in the other direction.
“Um, Bandit?” Chilli snears at him as she gets up to grab the rattle.
Bandit turns to face her.
“What can I say?” He smirks, receiving an eye roll. Bandit watches his wife make his way to the rattle.
“You’re about to raise a child, not be one.”
“I mean, it’ll only get messier from-“
The brush falls to the floor, splashing paint in several corners. Bandit’s mouth drops even lower as his eyes expand to the corners of the Earth.
Chilli gets up and turns back, only to see his expression.
“Bandit,-“
She then noticed where his eyes are.
And she sees the chair.
The seat is covered in blood and she starts to feel it on her legs.
…
“Chances are slim at 5%, but that doesn’t prevent anything.” The Doctor explained clearly, yet there was a slightly somber tone in her voice.
Chilli sat in the hospital bed as her husband held both her shoulders. She wanted to pass out, scream, cry, and seize all at once.
“Mr. and Mrs.Heeler, I’m so sorry…..” she continued, moving slightly closer to the grief stricken couple.
They had lost their baby. The baby they tried so hard for. The baby they were decorating for just that morning. The baby they were going to bring into this world, care for, and eventually set free.
It was all over.
“This part of my job is not the reason I went to college for eight years…. You guys are clearly an amazing couple, if it helps you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We understand, thank you.” Bandit responded as Chilli started to shake and whimper in his hold, reality slapping her across the face.
“I’ll give you two a moment.” She replied, walking out with a slight frown.
Chilli’s sobs few louder once she was out, and Bandit crawled into the bed with her. He cried on top of her head; that’s all he could do. Nothing could help this whatsoever.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Chilli barely got out between her wails.
Bandit sank to her ear and muffled “What?”
Chilli tried to breathe steadily as she responded.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep your child alive for a full nine months.” She sniffed harshly.
“I’m a bad wife.”
This caused Bandit to snap out of his forbidden state of an expecting parent who just lost almost everything. He held her face and looked her straight in the eye- or tried to, at least.
“Chilli Heeler, that absolutely hurts my heart.”
“I know.” She cries even harder into her palms and says words he can’t quite make out.
“No, I mean it hurts that you dare think this has anything at all to do with you.”
He holds her chin up, she keeps her eyes shut but he gets her to open slightly.
“Don’t you ever, and I mean ever, take even the slightest amount of blame for this. We lost our baby, and I’m so sorry, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why were they-“
“I don’t know, but I do know it was completely out of your control. You did everything and more, you were the best mother they could’ve asked for. You’re not even the very last explanation to why this happened.”
Chilli broke even harder at this. Bandit rocked her back and fourth and pressed their foreheads together.
“The health professional would’ve told you if you were the reason, and you never will be. There’s no one to blame here it just.”
He stops. He shuts his eyes. He inhales deep and slowly.
“Wasn’t meant to be.”
Chilli looks up at him, vision damp and blurry.
“We’re not meant to be parents?”
“Not at this very moment, no. And I’m so sorry, babe. But I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re gonna figure it out.” He empathizes the we’re like it’s the biggest swear he’s ever made.
“I love you.” Was all she could get out.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She nods.
The rest was an unpleasant void of headspace Chilli wishes to clear.
….
Exactly a week later, she bleeds again.
She needed the bathroom in the middle of the night, and she felt it down her legs.
Again.
She thought this very moment she would be eating a weird combo and preparing what she’s gonna tell her in laws, Frisk, and everyone else. Or maybe even have the nursery finalized.
Instead, she was cramping from her lower stomach and sobbing just quiet enough to not wake her sweet husband who had went out of his way to make the recent days somewhat tolerable.
Didn’t work though, because she had heard a gentle creek.
“Chilli?”
She looked up to see Bandit holding the door knob; she had woken him. Or he needed the bathroom too. Whatever.
Bandit kneeled down and held her in his arms, stroking her neck.
“Shhh-“
“I got my period.” She says softly, as if her typical cycle was uncalled for.
“Oh…” he coos, realizing her the very amount of triggering hurt that was daring to touch his wife.
“Another damn reminder that I’m not pregnant.” She sobs into his chest, wanting to succumb to blankness.
“My poor love.”
“I- it hurts, it hurts so much.” She cries almost as hard as she did at the hospital.
Bandit simply lifts Chilli off the ground and takes her to bed. He whispers a mere “stay here” as he goes out of the room. He comes back with a heating pad, some chocolate, and pills. He hooks up the pad and hands Chilli some chocolate and two tablets.
He then craws back into the sheets and snuggles her.
Bandit grabs her chin and faces her.
“Better?”
Chilli nods and kisses his nose.
“As better as is can be…”
…
Chilli wasn’t very far along, so he hadn’t put much weight on, yet she was showing quite a bit for a new pregnancy.
When she still had that, actually.
She looked in the mirror at her body;
Chilli was so depressed she mainly sat around at home to process, so the tiny bump wasn’t gone quite yet. The period bloating added and it reminded her of what she would’ve had only a few weeks more.
That wasn’t even the worst of it.
The early stage nursery was neglected for about a month. Chilli and Bandit eventually cleared most of it.
Put the toys and the chair and even the crib into storage. Restored the guest bed.
One detail remained, though.
The slight paint blob remained on the wall. For some reason, Chilli still wanted a pink room. She couldn’t bring herself to let Bandit coat over the fresh paint.
Because she had this- hope, this. Delusion. Denial. Idea. This, concept.
That their guest room turned nursery turned guest room would someday be filled with littles who screamed, laughed, teased, cried, and loved.
And they would be theirs.
And Chilli wouldn’t hurt.
But for now, all she could do was hold her husband close as she got herself back up.
The show must go on, after all.