Your bedroom is blanketed with dark. Not even moonlight dares to disturb it. A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and there's an immense amount of pain in your belly; the baby is coming.

Your arms flail out, trying desperately to find someone or something to grab onto. You call out for the Undertaker, but you get no answer. You're on your own, about to give birth in the darkness.

You feel cold hands grasp at you bare legs, and breath a sigh of relief; you're not alone after all. You look between your legs, desperate to thank your saviour.

You words die in your throat when a pair of crimson eyes stare up, shining like a cat's. He grins, and you see his pure white fangs gleam. This man is not your saviour; he is your damnation.

His voice is low and deep as he addresses you. 'Good girl, that's it. A few more pushes and it'll all be over. Thank you so much for doing this for me. Finding a suitable host was a difficult task, but thankfully you've played your part perfectly. Once I have my heir, I'll send you off to see your lover. He put up such a fight when I came in, but I fear your constant demands had run him ragged. He didn't have the speed or the energy left in him to dodge my blades. So much for being a legendary grim reaper…' he's lying. He has to be. Undertaker can't be dead! He just can't be! There's no way Sebastian could kill him!

Your internal protests are halted by another surge of pain. The baby's head starts to come out, and you're certain that one more push is all it will take. So you push. You push with all your might, desperate to see your precious little baby.

A loud wailing fills the room; you're a mother.

Your whole body feels exhausted, all your energy exerted bringing your little one into the world. You manage to tilt your head to see him, praying that he has Undertaker's features.

Another pair of crimson eyes stare up at you.

Sebastian's words are full of pride. 'He looks just like his father.'

You somehow find the energy to scream.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You jolt up in bed, heart racing and body covered in sweat. A nightmare? Your hands go straight to your belly, and you breath a sigh of relief when you discover it's still swollen.

A nightmare.

You try to calm your breathing. It's been about six months since you last experienced such a thing. You blame it on your encounter with the old woman a few weeks ago.

Every since that day, both you and the Undertaker have been acting differently. Every little twinge or kick has you concerned, as you're still panicking about the baby's due date. What if it does come a month early, as the old woman had suggested? Your heart keeps telling you that it won't, because it knows that the baby is Undertaker's. Your mind doesn't share that view, and has spent the last month trying to remember if anything happened to you whilst you were sleeping. You don't think so, but you're not certain. After all, you'd had a few dirty dreams about the Undertaker at that time (despite not knowing just how attractive he looks with his bangs swept away). What if one of those dreams had some basis in reality? What if someone snuck into your bed, and took you as you dreamt of your future husband? The Undertaker might be certain that no reaper would try such a thing, but how can he be certain? One thing is for sure, it isn't Sebastian's; that isn't biologically possible. It makes your nightmare even stranger, as you know such a thing will never come to pass. The dream world is a funny place…

The changes in Undertaker's personality have been subtle, but you've known him long enough now to pick up on them. You catch him looking at you out of the corner of his eye sometimes, concern etched on his features. Every time you feel a twinge or a kick he races to your side, but there's no longer enthusiasm on his face; it's fear. He tries to hide it under his smiles and calming words, but you see it as clear as day. The old woman's words have gotten to him, too. Even the joy he once felt over the arrival of his first born has dampened, as you can see sadness twinkling in his eyes. He looks as if his whole world is about to crumble at his feet…

Undertaker makes a noise in his sleep, indicating that he's about to wake up. He sits up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he does. He looks at you, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjust to the limited light. Dawn is breaking, but your bedroom has yet to become illuminated by the sun's rays. His eyebrows are knit together closely, his face full of concern. 'Is everything alright, love?' He asks, wrapping an arm around you.

His words cause you to lose any sense of calm you'd gained after waking, and you sob violently into his chest, consumed by fear. He caresses you lovingly as you cry, kissing the top of your hand as he tries to calm you. It usually works almost instantly, but this time you're far too consumed by fear and grief. Your perfect life has been torn apart by uncertainty, and there's nothing you can do to fix it.

The Undertaker starts whispering into your hair, trying his best to calm you. 'It's okay, I'm here now. Please stop crying, love. Please?' You do your best to calm down, managing to lessen your sobs a little. You try to speak, but your words come out in fragments, each set broken up by sobs.

'What… if… some-something… happens… to… the… baby?' He puts his hands on your face, cupping it as he wipes away your tears. He looks you dead in the eyes, a fierce determination that you've never seen before shining in them.

'Nothing is going to happen. Our baby is going to be fine. We can't let some old biddy's words affect us like this! There is nothing wrong with our child.' You calm down enough to speak a little clearer this time, although you doubt he'll want to hear what you have to say.

'You don't… believe that though, d-do you? I've s-seen the w-way you look… at me. It's like… you're going to lose us both!' There's pain in his eyes, so raw and unrestrained that you regret your words instantly. You wish you could take them back, but the damage is done.

He speaks quietly, with little emotion. 'I've gained more than I've ever deserved. Of course I'm worried I'm going to lose it all. From the moment we first kissed, I knew that my happiness would be fleeting. I thought you'd leave me after that first night, or after I told you what I was. By some miracle you stayed, then told me you were having my child. In that moment, I had everything I've ever wanted. However, that kind of happiness is dangerous. It makes you content. I don't know what that old lady meant that day, but I know that it terrifies me. Is there something wrong with our baby? Will he or she be born covered in growths and sores before fading away in my arms? I'm so scared, love. Scared that everything I love is going to be stolen away by some cruel twist of fate.' He's sobbing himself now, something that surprised you; you've never seen him so upset.

You bring his head into your bosom, letting him cry as much as he needs to. Grief pours out of him in waves, which only adds to your tears. The two of you sit crying until the sun rises, by which time the tears have all but dried up. He takes in a deep breath, like he plans to speak. Before he gets the chance, he's kicked in the face by the baby, who is apparently none too happy about its parents being upset. Undertaker chuckles, and brings a hand up to caress your bump.

'Sorry, Mummy and Daddy needed a good cry. Didn't mean to wake you.' This time it's you that gets kicked, an albeit softer one that lands on you bladder. You reluctantly push the Undertaker away, suddenly desperate for the toilet. He looks at you, a little dejected before you explain your need to pee. He smiles sadly at you. 'I'll go and make us breakfast, then.' You respond with an apologetic smile, before sprinting to the bathroom.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You enter the kitchen hesitantly after peeing, unsure of Undertaker's mood. You catch sight of him over the stove, flipping pancakes as usual. There's an air of sadness about him, one that you're eager to change.

You waddle over to his side, cuddling into his arm. He looks at you, sighing heavily. 'I'm sorry for dumping all of my feelings on you like that. I've probably made your own fears even worse…' you see tears threatening to fall again, but you're determined not to see him cry anymore tears this morning.

You kiss his shoulder. 'We needed to talk things through. You can offload on me as often as you need to; heaven knows I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you putting up with my tears.

'As for your anxieties, I suggest you try to forget about them. You've been far too nice to me, so I'm afraid you're stuck with me now. As for our baby, I really doubt we'll have to worry about it being sickly. Sick babies don't kick their fathers in the face!' He laughs a little, which is a relief. It's heartbreaking seeing him sad…

He abandons breakfast preparation, instead turning to you so he can caress your face and belly simultaneously. 'True enough, I suppose. I really don't deserve you, either of you.' A soft kick lands on his hand. 'Look, Daddy is sorry for being so silly, but there's no need to keep kicking me!' You giggle, and the baby kicks again, as if he or she is deliberately challenging him.

As the Undertaker continues to gently berate your unborn child ('I helped give you life, you know. You should start being a bit nicer!'), you think on the old woman again. If her prediction is correct, then you're going to be a mother any day now.

You just hope everything is going to be alright.