𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 ↠ a. hotchner

chapter twenty-one - three weeks.

HOSPITALS WERE never Ophelia's desired location. She hadn't stepped foot in one since Aaron was there. She still got her checkups, mind you, but those were in doctors offices; much different than a hospital. It didn't take her much convincing to go for this baby, however.
"You're nervous," Spencer scanned her body; she was biting her finger nails and lightly jogging her legs.
"Wow, 187, you are unbelievable," She mused. Spencer knew she was under a lot of stress right now and she didn't mean to snap at him. He was glad to let her poke fun at him all she wanted if it made her even a little better. "Sorry," She sighed. He smiled.
"I've heard worse," He wrapped his arm around her back and rubbed her shoulder, something he knew she found to be comforting.
"What if I miscarry again, Spence? What if there's too much damage and it can't survive?" She looked up at him and he immediately started wracking his brain for an answer.
"Only a small percent of women have repeated miscarriages, only about one percent, whereas a second miscarriage has a 20% chance of occurring," In that moment he felt as if he deserved to be snapped at.
"Spencer," She whined. "That's not exactly ideal," Her head fell to his shoulder.
"Sorry, it just kinda slipped out," He cringed. She nodded.
"I know, it's not your fault," She rubbed her eyes, as if to rid her mind of that awful statistic. Before he could spout off anymore terrifying facts, a nurse emerged from the patient rooms.
      "Holmes?" She called out, looking at the mostly empty waiting room. Spencer stood, but Ophelia hesitated. He offered his hand, smiling down at her. She returned a smile and grasped his hand.

      "Okay, this is gonna be a little cold," Spencer never let go of Ophelia's hand the entire time. She squeezed him as the doctor spread the gel around her abdomen. It was more than a little cold. Ophelia watched her expressions so closely, looking for any sign of bad news.
      "Did you happen to have any injuries to your abdomen in the past?" Shit. It was Spencer's turn to squeeze.
      "Yes, I was pregnant before and I was attacked. I had a miscarriage— why?" The doctor looked down at her, a reassuring smile on her face.
      "Not to worry, I just see some scar tissue that indicates trauma," She looked back up at the screen and continued to rub the wand around her stomach. A few silent moments passed.
      "And...there it is," She pointed to the screen and Spencer craned his neck to look with you. "There's your baby," The tiniest dot of white was in the middle of a dark womb.
       "Looks to be about three weeks," Spencer added. The doctor giggled.
      "You're right," Ophelia let her body relax onto the bed. She shook her head. Spencer blushed.
      "Are you a doctor?" She turned to look at him as pictures printed off of her machine.
      "Yes, but not that kind. I have a Ph.D in-"
      "Spence," Ophelia chuckled. "I'm three weeks pregnant over here, let me have my moment," She said jokingly. He rolled his eyes.
      "Okay, okay, fine," He closed her hand in his. Even though this meant a lot of trouble for Ophelia, he could always make her feel better.
      "Would you like to discuss options, or do we know what we're doing?" The doctor folded the three pictures together and handed them to Ophelia, her triumphant smile gleaming.
      "I think I'm gonna keep it," Ophelia nodded, squeezing Spencer's hand once more.
      "Okay, let me know if you change your mind and we'll get you set up with something, okay?" The two nodded. "Now, I don't want to worry you, but since there was a previous miscarriage and damage to the womb, I want to keep a close eye on you," She went back to her normal computer and began typing. Neither of them said anything.
      "It's just a precaution," She smiled. It didn't settle their worries any, but it was appreciated. "I'll have the nurse set up appointments for every other week, but once you get closer to term, I want to see you every week. No. Skipping. Okay?" Ophelia didn't know how she was going to get away with appointments every other week without telling Aaron, but she had to make it work. At least until she was forced to tell him.

      Spencer drove Ophelia back to her apartment, mostly in silence. That was, until her phone started to ring. It took her a moment to dig her phone out of her purse, but once she did, she hesitated at the caller ID.
      "Shit," She hit the answer button and put it up to her ear. "Hey," She forced a smile.
      "Hey," Aaron. God, how she missed him. "It's our day off," She could hear the smirk in his voice.
      "It is," She giggled. Spencer faked a gag.
      "I was thinking I could take you out to dinner tonight," She glanced down at her wrist, reminding herself of the beautiful work that hung off of it.
      "I would love to," Her cheeks burned a bright red.
      "Okay, I'll pick you up at eight," He offered. She sighed.
      "Okay," And with that, the call ended. Spencer shot a sly look at her and shook his head
      "What?" She put her phone back in her purse, her cheeks still warm.
      "Nothing," He said defensively. "How are you gonna tell him?" He asked, shifting his attention to the road again. Her eyes shot wide open.
      "Tell him— are you kidding?" Her tone was lighthearted and joking, but she wasn't happy about keeping it from him. "I can't,"
      "Listen, I know it's none of my business," Spencer was more serious. "But I really don't think that's a good idea," He was going to be supportive of whatever she decided but he could just tell this wouldn't end well, especially with their job.
      "I'll support you no matter what, but just know-"
      "I know, I know," She sighed. "I'll tell him eventually,"