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🖤 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 🖤
“Trouble’s never far behind me — guess it runs in the family.”
↳ OC | Daughter of @OfTacticalSoul
↳ Rebellious ✦ Outgoing ✦ Spunky
↳ Chi-town born & raised
↳ AU / Multi-verse friendly
#OneChicagoRP #OC #Halstead
Something hopeful.
Brooklyn placed her hand on her stomach again, just for a second longer this time.
“Yeah,” she said quietly, almost like a promise.
“I’ve got you.”
And even through the nausea, she meant it.
For now.
Eventually, she pushed herself up, rinsing her mouth and catching her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale, a little worn—but there was something else there too. Something softer.
She exhaled slowly, letting her head rest back against the wall.
“Guess that means you’re strong,” she whispered.
Another wave threatened, lighter this time, and she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. This time, she rode it out.
“You’re really putting me through it already, huh?” she said softly, a faint, tired smile tugging at her lips.
There was something surreal about it all—the sickness, the exhaustion, the emotions hitting her out of nowhere.
“This is… worth it,” she murmured quietly, though her voice wavered.
After a minute, she leaned back against the wall, pulling her knees close to her chest. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach again, gentler this time, protective.
The bathroom wasn’t far, but it felt like miles.
By the time she reached it, she barely made it to her knees before the sickness took over. It left her drained, exhausted in a way sleep couldn’t fix. When it passed, she stayed there for a moment, forehead
“Okay… okay…” she whispered to herself, her voice shaky as she pushed herself upright. The room spun just enough to make her pause, one hand flying to her head before she forced herself to stand.
It wasn’t gentle. It never was.
She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing slowly through her nose like she’d read—like everyone said would help.
It didn’t.