Psychosis (Yungblud x Reader)

Twenty-nine

Y/N = Your Name

-

Your POV

I wake up to my stomach twisting and sore. I glance at the clock, and it's barely 5am. Great, a flu. I get out of bed and head to my bathroom, slumping down by the toilet and clutching my stomach. Maybe it isn't such a bad idea to see Dr. Campbell today.

---

"So you're having nausea, vomiting, and headaches?" Dr. Campbell says, looking at my medical records on the computer.

"Yep." I nod. "And she's hasn't been eating. She's barely gotten out of bed all week." My mom adds, worry evident in her voice.

"Well, though it could be a flu, or caused by your previous concussion, we can never be too sure. I wanna run some tests to narrow it down, starting with a urine sample if that's okay." Dr. Campbell says, holding a small cup in his hand.

"Seriously? Why?" I question, taking the cup from him. Seriously, what does this have to do with anything.

"Rules out bacterial infections, pregnancy, UTI, among other possible conditions." He explains.

"Pregnancy? Yeah, right." I laugh.

"It's just precautionary Y/N. Bathroom's over there." Dr Campbell says, pointing to the connecting bathroom in the room.

I sigh and get off the bed, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

Once I finish, I wrap the cup in a paper towel and leave the bathroom, handing the cup to Dr. Campbell.

"I'm gonna take this down the hall to the lab, and I'll be back with the results in a few minutes. You ladies just hang tight, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor." My mom says as he leaves the room.

I sit back down on the bed and stare at the wall, my head still pounding.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Mom asks softly.

"Other than the loss of my dignity, I'd say decent." I reply, sarcastically.

"Jeez Y/N, did that rock hit the part of your head where sarcasm comes from." My mom teases, sighing and picking up the magazine sitting on the side table.

"Nope, I'd say dating a psychotic patient did that." I continue, with said sarcasm. My mom glances up at me, rolling her eyes disapprovingly as she diverts her attention back to the glossy pages of this month's People.

A few minutes go by in silence, my gaze scanning the dull, ivory colored walls with various medical posters stuck to them. The striking similarity to Langley Porter takes me back to Summer. June, the first time I met Dominic through iron bars. July, when we snuck out of the hospital and explored each other for the first time. Early August, and kissing in the courtyard. God, it feels like an entire lifetime ago. Goosebumps travel up my skin from my legs to my arms, thinking about the way Dominic's touch felt, how his lips electrified my skin. It's a nightmare I'd give anything to relive, no matter how disastrous the fallout.

I am snapped out of my daze as the door to the exam room opens. Dr. Campbell walks in, holding a packet of paper, presumably lap results.

"Well, the results on the urine sample came back, I'd like to conduct a few more tests to be safe, but I think we have the likely cause of your symptoms Y/N."

Dr. Campbell glances over to my mom and back to me. His face is stone cold, his expression heightening the overall anxiety in the room.

"Well?" I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

But the words that come out of Dr. Campbell's mouths are almost too surreal to believe.

"You're pregnant, Y/N."