Continued from
here.
When Fred suddenly got up off him and ran to the bathroom, Wesley sat up in concern. He slid off the bed, only to get his foot wrapped in the duvet as he did. Rather gracefully, he tripped, almost landing face down on the floor. Luckily, though, he managed to catch himself and untangled himself from the duvet while cursing himself for his clumsiness.
By the time he reached the bathroom, Fred was sitting back from kneeling in front of the toilet, tears streaming down her face. Morning sickness, he realized. It had started. He knew that this was just the beginning, though.
"I'm here, love," he told her softly. Quickly, he picked up a glass that was sitting by the sink and filled it up as well as a towel and sat down next to her. He used to the towel to wipe away her tears and to clean her face before picking up the water to hand to her. "Here you go."
Wrapping his arm around her, he held her tightly, hating that she had to be made to feel this way. If he could take the burden for her, he would. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"