(A/N this is a bit frantic and stressed so if this kinda thing bothers you, feel free to skip ahead. Tw-panic attack)

Shit. Holy shit.

She couldn't- she was trying but she couldn't-

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked on air. Another gasp. There wasn't any- she couldn't find any- she needed to-

Panic.

No- No, don't, that's just gonna- God, she needed to-

Gasp.

She choked on her breath again and put her hand to her throat. Her work fluttered to the floor. Shit. She needed that. She needed to-

She coughed and spluttered, trying to clear her airways. Sticky tears dribbled down her face. She must look hideous. She had to-

Another ragged breath. She took a step back and fell into the wall behind her. A sob. She needed to breathe. She needed-

She was sat on the floor, knees curled against her chest, her hands wrapped around her.

She had so much to do. Everything needed to be done, she had so much work and only- not enough- not enough time- she needed-

9 months wasn't long enough.

Her heart hammered in her head. She needed to breathe. She needed to get this work done before- she couldn't get this done before-

A sob escaped her, ragged, raw and loud.

Breathe. Focus. Breathe.

In, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 months- shit.

"Amy?"

Her head hit her knees. She couldn't- there was no way she could- telling him was the last thing she wanted. Not like this- not now, when she was-

"Ames, babe? Hey, hang in there. Breathe, take it easy."

It was routine to them now, the string of grounding techniques. He'd figured out the successful ones, the ones that helped her feel more real, calmer. The ones that made her feel safe.

She was safe with him, she knew that. He'd look after her, keep her safe- God, she can't keep herself safe! How could she look after a-

No. No, she couldn't. Not after this- after all she'd done. She'd be a captain soon, she couldn't be a-

She wasn't ready to be a-

Jake was. He always had been, really. He was always better with kids, made them laugh, kept them happy.

She was only good for the meticulous timetables.

No, she couldn't. She'd be a bad- She'd be an awful-

She'd be a mother.

She can't do that.

She coughed up the breath she'd been holding and sobbed, falling into Jake's arms.

"Ames, talk to me." His voice was quiet and gentle, difficult to hear over the overwhelming pounding in her heart. "What's going through your head, huh?"

The words that came out of her mouth were barely words, let alone a fully formed, grammatically correct sentence.

"Is this about the test? We did this last time, babe, you'll ace it, you always do." This was one test she wished she hadn't aced, if she was honest. "You ace everything."

"I can't. I won't ace this." His lips were on her hair, whispering to her until her shudders and sobs began to lessen.

"Jake, I-" Her voice caught.

"Tell me what it is, Santiago."

He hadn't called her that in a long time. It had been another grounding technique from back when they were first partnered. He'd call her 'Santiago' and her brain would switch back to work mode. She may not be a Santiago by name anymore, but it still had its effect.

She thought of all the sonograms he'd pin the the fridge with magnets, all the family photos she'd put at her desk.

"Jake... I'm pregnant."

It was barely a whisper but he'd heard, no doubt. Even the hammering in her ears and stopped, waiting for him to respond.

He didn't speak. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Again. Again. Her cheek, her jaw, the soft spot he knew she had behind her ear.

Maybe she was worried. They needed to talk about this. When she was less exhausted, when he'd had a chance to digest the information. They would talk about it. But right now she was willing just to sit and let him love her. He loved her, for sure. He repeated it amongst his murmurings against her skin.

Right now, she'd let him hold her, let herself relax into his embrace and let him take care of her.

Besides, she'd be taking care of someone else important soon enough.