Victor felt like he was going to throw up. He curled further in on himself, still in the bunk bed though he'd been awake for a few hours. 

"You okay down there?" Will asked softly from the upper bed.

Victor couldn't answer--the nausea rolling over him in increasingly stronger and faster waves. Was this his body rejecting the baby after that syringe? Or was this normal morning sickness? Whatever it was, it was becoming too strong for Victor to fight off. Clasping his hand to his face, he rolled off the bed and scrambled to the toilet, making it just in time. He felt no better when his stomach stopped heaving, just exhausted. Will took off his shirt and wet it, using it to wipe the sweat off Victor's face.

"Thanks," Victor grunted, exhausted.

Will helped him put his back to the wall and then sat next to him. "So you're definitely... in the way?" He kept his voice as low as possible, but still kept his words vague, not knowing exactly what kind of equipment they had listening in on them..

Victor nodded. "It seems so." He'd never reacted to the interrogation drugs before, which made it clear that morning sickness was the likelier culprit.

"Hope the outside goes fast."

Victor took that to mean: I hope Eric's pack plans to move fast. He didn't bother responding. He hoped the same. Being here had been intolerable enough when he'd only had himself to worry about. Now that he had a child growing inhim, it was beyond too much. They sat in silence, in hovering anticipation, in suppressed fear, 

Finally, Will stood. "You still look pretty exhausted. Why don't you see if you can get some sleep." He pulled Victor to his feet. Victor nodded weakly. All he wanted to do was sleep. His stomach still felt upset, but his eyes felt leaded. Will helped him back on the bed and Victor was able to drift into a half sleep for a while. Until the food was delivered. One whiff of whatever slop they were feeding them today and he was running for the toilet and stayed there, gagging, for nearly an hour until the guards took the trays away. Everyone had tried to pass all the trays down to the furthest corner of the room but even that didn't help with the closed door. The smells just had no where else to go.

He and Will gave each other apologetic looks. But there was no use being sorry. It wasn't Victor's fault he was so sick. It wasn't Will's fault about the food smells. "I guess this is just normal," Victor said, his voice small and worn out. He wished they could talk more about it. He wished he could get on the fucking internet. Though that was as likely to scare the crap out of him as it was to reassure him.

Since he had no internet, he tried to dredge up every possible shred of pregnancy information from his memories. Heat driven pregnancies differed from non-heat pregnancies only in the first few weeks. It was possible to get pregnant outside of heat, fairly common, in fact. The time you were least likely to get pregnant was the month following heat, but  even that wasn't a given. During heat, though, pregnancy was almost a given. Only a small percentage of unprotected unions during heat wouldn't result in a pregnancy. They didn't have solid numbers, yet. No one had run any statistics on it, with the shifter populace being so relatively small and insular. A heat pregnancy was apparent almost immediately, the hormone levels already at an elevated level, which meant that it was normal for Victor to shift directly from heat symptoms to pregnancy symptoms. On the one hand, Victor was relieved that his heat symptoms were over, on the other, this morning sickness sucked.

And another wave was coming on him. He pushed off the bed, running for the toilet. There was no way he wouldn't draw the Letters attention. They were always extra curious when one of them got sick. One of the benefits of a shifter's constitution is they worked through sicknesses much more quickly. So a cold that would have lasted a week in a human only put a shifter out of it for a day or two.

But this was clearly no cold. Victor did his best not to think about it. He was already so miserable, his stomach and back aching from the convulsions of his body. He was dry heaving now. He wished he had a bucket so that he could stay in bed. As uncomfortable as it was, it was better than the concrete floor. Though the chill of the floor and wall were comforting.

Will stayed by his side. Victor wanted to tell him to not worry, but he was too tired and grateful to move.