chapter twenty - history repeats.

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THE TEAM had just gotten called on a new case in New Mexico, a reasonably long flight. To some, getting sick on a plane is routine, and people tend to just look the other way. But for FBI agents who fly up to once a week? It was definitely concerning.
"Ophelia? You alright in there?" Emily softly knocked on the bathroom door. She pressed her ear to the door. "Oh my god," She immediately opened the door, which luckily wasn't locked and dropped to Ophelia's side. She was hunched over the toilet, coughing up her breakfast. She took Ophelia's hair out of her hands and into her own and rubbed her back.
"It's okay, let it all out," She softly cooed over her. Aaron was already standing outside the bathroom, watching with concern in his eyes. Derek and Spencer shared a look. FBI agents don't just throw up on planes after years of being completely fine.
"Must've been something you ate— Aaron will you get her some water please?" He nodded and disappeared into the other cabin. Tears began to trail down her face. "Oh, sweetheart— It's okay, shh," Ophelia knew she was just trying to be comforting, but it really wasn't doing much. For one, she couldn't hear over the sounds her throat was making, and two, it just wouldn't stop. Aaron reappeared with a bottle of water in hand.
"Here, it's the kind she likes," Emily took it in her hands and held it for Ophelia to take. She was finally able to straighten her back for a moment and downed most of the water while she was still sitting on the bathroom floor.
"Thank you," She groaned, out of breath. Emily fixed her hair, throwing it over her shoulders and tucking it behind her ears.
"Are you going to be okay?" Aaron asked, his face straight as ever. Ophelia nodded.
"I feel better already," She wiped the tears off of her cheeks and sighed. She let her back rest on the bathroom wall and closed her eyes.
"You go look over the case with the team, I'll stay here until she can stand," Aaron offered, stepping aside so Emily could exit the small bathroom. She nodded and followed his orders. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He flushed the toilet and sat next to her on the floor. Just as she was about to rest her head on his shoulder, she felt another wave of nausea hit her like a train.
"Oh, god," She dropped the water and threw herself over the bowl. Aaron sprung to his knees and held her hair back. Instead of breakfast, it was the water she had drank just moments before. This was definitely not good.
"Shit," She breathed.
"It's okay," After all the times Ophelia had comforted Aaron, now it was his turn. He wasn't nearly as good as it as her, but he tried his best.
"Do you have any idea what could be causing this?" He asked as she was finally able to lean back onto her legs. She shook her head. He sighed.
"Drink slowly," He cautioned as she brought the bottle up to her lips again. She did as she was told, sipping lightly.
"You don't think you could be—"
"No, I don't think so," She took a deep breath.

Well, shit. She was late. Not by a lot, but enough to get her worried, considering her recent symptoms. She truly had no idea what to do. She couldn't tell Aaron, that's for sure, unless she wanted another incident like their first hookup. Not a single soul could know except—
"Spencer?" She tried to keep her voice as smooth as possible.
"Hey, what's up?" It was their day off after their most recent case so she knew he would be free at some point. "Feeling any better?"
"Yeah, loads— but, hey, can you come pick me up?" She paced her bedroom floor.
"Sure, be there in ten," Thank god he didn't ask questions.

Once Spencer arrived, she could no longer conceal her worry. It was much harder to trick a profiler in person.
"So you need me to take you to the store," He began. "But you can't go alone," He raised an eyebrow. She sighed.
"Yes, Spence," She smoothed her hair back as she continued to subtly pace around her apartment while she got ready.
"It just doesn't make sense— just tell me what's so important that you need me to go with you, Lia," He watched her frantic pacing stop, just a few feet away from him.
"I'm late," She mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
"Late for what— I can take you—"
"Spencer!" She didn't shout, but he could definitely hear her now. "I need a pregnancy test. I'm late," His posture softened and he was left stunned, leaning against the arm of her couch.
"Are you okay?" His voice was soft and defeated. That was most important to him in that moment.
"I guess we'll find out,"

At the drug store, Spencer stayed close to Ophelia to make sure she was okay the entire time while spouting off random statistics about pregnancy tests and some about childbirth, which Ophelia didn't really appreciate.
"Sometimes women can spend twenty hours in labor, up to eight of which in active child birth-"
"Shut up, Spencer! I really don't want to hear about that right now," She tried focusing on the several boxes in front of her, but all she could think about was how she might have to push a live being out of her in nine months time.
"Now tell me which is the best one," She mumbled begrudgingly. He smiled, almost to say 'you love me' like he often would. He scanned the shelves and landed on a pack of four tests, which claimed to have the earliest positive result.
"This one," He handed the box to her and she nodded in thanks.

"Try not to pee on the plastic part! It could mess up the battery," He called from the other side of her bathroom door. "Or your hand. That's just gross," He was trying his best to make her laugh. Even if it didn't work, he could tell it made her feel just a little better.
"Okay!" He could hear the faucet start to run and then stop after a few seconds.
"It says to wait two minutes!" Ophelia composed herself and sat the stick result-side down on the back of the toilet and opened the door. Spencer was there, a gentle smile on his face. She snaked her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. He rubbed her back, subtly swaying her back and forth in his arms. She sighed and closed her eyes. This was it. This test would tell her what the rest of her life would look like. Spencer lifted his wrist to look at his watch.
"Do you want to look or do you want me to?" He looked down at her and she reluctantly pulled out of their hug.
"Can you?" He nodded. He strode into the bathroom and ripped off some tissue paper to pick the test up with. Ophelia watched his every move as if they all pointed to the results. He stood there for a moment, looking at the stick in his hand.
"Ophelia," He started. His eyes told it all. "You're pregnant,"

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