A/N: Well, the last chapter received quite a response! Thank you so very much! The general consensus seemed to be that Emerson is pregnant. Or is she? Read on to find out... and please leave a comment! Muchas gracias to Liss for beta-ing. Thank you.
X
February 12th
A blustery cold wind hit Brandon Wood like a rude splash of water to the face when he emerged from the Boston
International Magical Arrivals terminal. Momentarily shocked, he skittered back inside and pulled out a warm knitted
cap, emblazoned with the Puddlemere logo, and stuffed it onto his head. Turning the collar of his cloak up, he glanced
at his watch before shoving his gloved hands into his pockets and venturing out again.
This time he was better prepared and for a moment, stood still and let the wind whip around him. It was early evening, just after six o'clock and he was more than an hour early. Emerson wasn't expecting him until seven-thirty and unlike the first time when he'd gone to her dorm and surprised her, he didn't want to do that this time. She would be stuck in classes until almost seven, while Kady had gone home to visit her grandmother, and he really didn't relish the idea of sitting in the empty flat by himself.
Blowing out a breath, which misted whitely in front of him before dissipating, Brandon bent his head low and started down the sidewalk. Looking back, he saw that the IMA terminal appeared to be merely an abandoned bus depot, complete with "No Trespassing" and "Keep Out" signs. A Muggle was none the wiser that while it was a depot of sorts, it was far from abandoned and was, in fact, quite bustling. The sight piqued his interest as to what other wizarding establishments might be down the block, so with that in mind and some time to burn, he set off at a brisk walk.
He walked for a good half-hour and it was interesting picking out what were clearly wizarding shops and stores, tucked away between Muggle bars and bookshops, whose occupants surely had no clue as to the existence of their neighbors. Thin, naked trees in the median strip of the road appeared to wave their branches fruitlessly at the clueless patrons, as if trying to open their eyes to what was in their midst. As twilight approached, streetlights and store signs were gradually turned on, illuminating the street, the trees and the chilly sidewalk in various vivid hues. Music and conversation drifted out from the brightly lit and cozy-looking interiors, intermingling with the sounds of cars passing on the street and the incessant whooshing of the chill wind.
Brandon's nose was beginning to feel numb and after passing what appeared to be the fourth Starbucks in five minutes, he decided to turn back and nip into the nearest one for a hot drink. Just as he made the decision, a faint but piercing whine filled his ears and he stopped short. The sound was quite separate from the whistling of the wind and he turned his head this way and that, trying to determine the source. A flash of color caught his eye and he looked across the street through a break in the trees, mesmerized. Judging from the huge and clearly lit sign, it was a hospital - St. Agatha's Magical Hospital, to be exact. There was some kind of frantic activity going on outside the glass front doors, where half a dozen Healers and nurses were hurriedly levitating almost the same number of patients out of an ambulance (which was the source of the whine) and into the building. There was something desperate about their movements and Brandon wondered what was wrong with the people being levitated. He hoped they would be all right.
"What're you staring at?"
The voice startled him and Brandon jerked around to see a ruddy-faced man with a scraggly beard peering up at him. The man's tone wasn't menacing, merely curious as if he genuinely cared to know the answer and he kept looking from Brandon to the hospital.
Glancing away from him, Brandon looked back to the urgent scene across the street, only to find himself gazing at what appeared to be a billboard, blank except for the words "Available" and a phone number underneath. He blinked and there was the hospital again, the Healers and nurses disappearing inside the glass doors.
Smiling, he turned to the man. "Apparently, that sign is available."
The man looked nonplussed for a second before laughing suddenly. "That it is. That it is. But yer nose looks right ready to fall off, young man. Perhaps you should go warm yourself up with one of those whatchamacallits from Starbucks." He grinned widely. "You can't miss it. And if you do, there's another one on the other side of that there bookstore, and another one down the block."
"They sure love their Starbucks around here, don't they?" Brandon said, chuckling. "Thanks. I was just about to do that, actually."
"But you got distracted by a blank billboard, right?" the man guffawed, before slapping Brandon on the back and striding away, shaking his head.
Grinning, Brandon watched him go before turning around and heading back in the direction he'd come. He didn't miss the Starbucks and slipped inside to purchase a large frothy cappuccino, which he sat down to sip slowly as he listened to the happy, caffeinated chatter of the other customers. There were quite a few cuddling couples and his heart hammered in his chest as he thought about the fact that soon he would be doing that with the woman he loved. The past month had only been made bearable by the fact that he'd been so busy. It was the only way he had managed to survive being away from Emerson for so long, and the knowledge that she was now merely a brisk walk away made his breath hitch.
Unable to stand it all of a sudden, he quickly checked his watch and saw, to his surprise, that it was already after seven. After dumping the almost empty container, he hurried back onto the sidewalk and headed towards the Harvard campus. His heart pounded from adrenaline and excitement and when he reached her door, he didn't bother to knock, choosing instead to use the key she'd given him.
Standing in the neat, tranquil room, Brandon breathed out a deep breath and grinned. Everything looked just the way he remembered from his last visit, back in November. But the most important component wasn't in the living room and, pulling off his gloves, he strode towards her room. His knock went unanswered and after a few seconds, he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty, which told him that she hadn't yet returned from class. But her scent enveloped him and he had to lean his hand against the wall so as not to lose his balance. God, how he had missed her!
"Meow."
Brandon looked towards the sound and his grin widened. "Axel." He walked over and picked up the fluffy black kitten, who mewed again and wiggled in his hands. "Hey, it's me. Don't you remember me?"
Axel cried and began to twist so frantically that Brandon quickly put him down, feeling puzzled and not a little disgruntled. He'd been the one to pick out and purchase the ungrateful little beast, who was now acting like Brandon wasn't allowed to touch him. But what did he expect; it was a cat, and cats were standoffish like that sometimes.
"Meow."
"What's your problem now?" he asked, looking over at the kitten, who was sitting in front of Emerson's closed bathroom door. Even as he watched, the kitten cried again and scratched at the door and Brandon felt a sudden coldness, his eyes widening. "What is it, Axel? Is-is she in there?"
Rushing over, he rapped loudly on the door. "Emerson?"
There was no answer and he tried the knob, which was locked. Pressing his ear to the wood, he listened hard and a few seconds later, heard a faint sound from within. His heart hammering, Brandon drew his wand, unlocked the door and opened it.
The sight before his eyes made him freeze for what felt like an eternity, but which was actually only about a second. Emerson was half-crouching, half-sitting on the floor beside the toilet. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and there was a hairbrush at her feet. Her head was down but then she looked up and his breath died in his lungs at the look on her face.
"Oh my God, Em!" he cried, moving forward. He dropped to his knees beside her and fearfully raised her face. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"
Her skin was pale and clammy, her hair limp around her face, and she had obviously been crying. Even as he watched, her bottom lip trembled and tears leaked from her eyes. "My stomach hurts so badly," she whispered in a strained voice.
A wall of guilt slammed into Brandon at her words and he gazed at her, horrified. How could he had forgotten that she hadn't been feeling well? How could he have been walking around in the twilight when she had likely been here suffering, needing him? She had been tired, had been throwing up for the past few weeks, but she'd assured him in her last letter that she was feeling better. She'd almost bossily told him not to worry, that she would be fine by the time he got there, and he'd believed her. But still-
"I'm so sorry," he said, brushing her hair from her face. "I should've gotten here sooner. Can you stand? We have to get you to the hospital."
She started to cry, her head hanging down again as he took her arms and began to help her up. "B-Brandon, I have to tell you s-something."
"Okay," he answered soothingly, trying not to give in to his own swirling anxiety. "You can tell me later. Let's get you to the hospital first, okay? I know where to go, thank God. There's a St. Agatha's just a few blocks from here. We can Apparate."
"I have to t-tell you now!" she sobbed, sounding almost hysterical. She was trembling and she wouldn't look at him as she pulled herself up taller. "Brandon, I-I'm-"
But then, all of a sudden, he felt her stiffen as her eyes squeezed shut. Her grip on his hands became painfully vise-like and she began to hunch over again. She bit her lip so hard that he saw it tear and as whatever it was that she was feeling reached the zenith, she went rigid and began to scream. He had never heard a sound like that before, from any one, such a full, unrelenting cry of agony and Brandon felt panic like he had never known before. She was shaking, sweat breaking out on her forehead as that terrible sound began to taper off, little whimpers issuing now from her throat and he pulled her closer, trying to concentrate enough to Disapparate, to get her out of there, to get help...
And that was when he saw the blood.
For a second, all other thought, all other emotion was swept from his mind as he stared in disbelieving horror. The blood was all over her stylish khaki capris, bright, deep and undeniable. She was bleeding to death in his arms and he must have made a sound because she looked up at him. Before he could stop her, her eyes followed his and he felt a tremor rent her body just before she slumped against him. The whine of panic in his skull jacked up another notch and he had to fight with everything he had not to lose it too, not to faint dead away. She needed him. He had to get her out-
Oh God, oh please.
Somehow, he managed to focus, to concentrate enough to conjure up a picture of those glass front doors and suddenly he was there and it was his turn to scream, for someone, anyone, oh please.
And then the nurses and the Healers were swarming all around him. They were taking her away. Someone was leading him by the elbow to a row of chairs, forcing him to sit. Brandon was numb, he was in shock and it took him a full minute to realize that the plump, matronly nurse beside him was saying something.
"What's your name, dear? Can you hear me?"
"Yes. Wood. Brandon Wood."
She smiled reassuringly at him. "Very good. And what's your wife's name? What's her name?"
"Emerson," he answered automatically. "But she's not-"
"Don't worry, dear," the nurse said hurriedly, patting his hand. "She'll be fine. Do you know what happened?"
He shook his head, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. "She was on the bathroom floor. She said her stomach hurt. She started to scream and then I saw the blood. She must have seen it too and that's why she fainted." A blinding sense of fear and desperation welled up inside him and tears gushed down his cheeks. "Oh God, please let her be okay! I can't lose her! Oh, please!"
"The Healers are doing everything they can, okay? Mr. Wood? Look at me."
He looked and through his tears, saw the kindly determination in her eyes. "We will help her. Do you understand?" He nodded dumbly and she stood up. "Stay here and I'll be right back. Okay?"
"Okay."
But as soon as she was gone, he jumped up. How could he remain sitting when Emerson was somewhere in this place, her life seeping out of her? Why hadn't he gone to her dorm as soon as he'd arrived? Why had he gone for a fucking stroll when she likely had been on the floor of her bathroom all that time, in too much pain to even grab her wand and summon help? The thought that if he hadn't gone for that stroll, he likely wouldn't have known where to take her didn't give him very much comfort. All he knew was that she had needed him and he hadn't been there. What the hell use was he?
A sob caught in his throat and he dropped back into the chair and buried his face in his hands. He cried for a moment before gritting his teeth, forcing himself to stop and wipe his eyes. Sucking in deep gulps of air, he dropped his hands from his face and leaned back in the chair, looking around the room for the first time. He was in some kind of waiting area, sitting on one of a long row of chairs that ran the entire length of the wall. Here and there sat clusters of people, obviously awaiting news of some sort. Just like he was. Nurses and Healers zipped out and across the room, while various flashing lights went on and off and the odd hissing or dinging sound came and went. The glass front doors were in perpetual motion, opening and closing behind a steady trickle of people entering or leaving.
Brandon watched a tall, stately-looking woman leading by the hand a small boy who appeared to have a good-sized watermelon growing out the back of his head. They stopped by the information desk, just as an equally tall and stately-looking gentleman hurried in and up to them. The man and woman fell into each other's arms before he dropped to his knees in front of the little boy, looking frantic. The look on the man's face reminded Brandon of his own panic, which was simmering at a precariously containable level within him, and he looked away. The thought suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he should alert Emerson's parents about what was happening. They would want to know that their daughter was lying in a hospital, with Healers presumably hard at work on her.
But what would I say? he wondered, feeling the panic beginning to whip and churn inside him. I don't know what's wrong with her. I don't know anything except that I am scared utterly shitless.
Besides, to inform her parents, he would have to leave and find an owl. And how could he leave her? He had to be here to receive whatever information that nurse might come back with. Wouldn't it be better to know more before he went and frightened her parents with an ambiguous owl? No, he needed to stay here. He could inform her parents later.
The decision made, Brandon sighed and began to lean back again, just as he caught sight of the plump, matronly nurse. He jumped up and hurried out to meet her. "Have you seen her? How is she? What happened? Is she all right?"
"Have a seat, Mr. Wood," she said, quietly.
Feeling faintly irritated, Brandon sat. "What is it?"
"Your wife is fine," the nurse began. "She lost a lot of blood, but it's good that you brought her here when you did and the Healers were able to stop the bleeding and set her to rights. There is no reason why she shouldn't fully recover."
"Oh, thank God," he breathed shakily, feeling tears prickling at his eyes. He covered them with his hand and leaned back in the chair, gulping air desperately as the words echoed in his head. She was fine. She would recover fully.
"-but I'm sorry to say that she lost the baby. Really, she would've had to terminate the pregnancy, anyway. It's just that nature got to it before we did."
The relief that was coursing through his being was so powerful that it took a full minute for what the nurse had said to penetrate his euphoria. But once it did, Brandon's hand jerked away from his eyes and he gaped at her. "B-Baby?"
The nurse looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry. The pregnancy was ectopic, which means that even if this hadn't happened, she still would've had to-"
"Wait, wait," he interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to clear his ears. "What baby?"
"Oh," the woman said, realization dawning on her broad face. "You didn't- oh. I'm guessing she hadn't had a chance to tell you. She was only just about seven weeks so I guess she was waiting to be a bit more certain before she told you. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."
Brandon sat frozen in disbelief on the edge of his chair, myriad thoughts ricocheting against his skull. Emerson had been pregnant? That was why she'd been sick. But why hadn't she told him? Why-
She'd been trying to, don't you see? Just before the pain became too much for her to bear.
Closing his eyes, he held himself still, struggling not to lose his mind from all the things that had been dumped on his consciousness this evening. But it was surely nothing to how Em must have felt, how she must feel. She must have been so scared; she must be so scared.
"Can I see her?"
The nurse stood up. "Of course. Right this way."
He followed her without even really seeing where he was going, so clouded was his mind with everything. All the nausea and vomiting that she'd been having had been morning sickness. All that blood on her clothes had been-
"Oh, I need to clean you up a bit before you can go in," the nurse said, startling Brandon from his horrified musings.
Looking down, he realized for the first time that there was blood on his shirt and his hands and he felt faint, while the nurse swept her wand over him. The blood disappeared but somehow, in his mind's eye, he could still see it... Emerson's blood. And their baby's?
He had to compose himself for a few minutes before he could enter the room. She was lying on the bed, her face to the wall but she turned her head when the door opened. Their eyes met and held and his heart broke within him at the look in her emerald depths. He vaguely heard the nurse say she would be back in a while and to press the summoning button if they needed her.
Of their own accord, his feet propelled him across the room and into her arms and she was sobbing so hard that he thought she would choke. He held her fiercely as her tears soaked his shirt, the shirt that had only just been stained with her blood and the image made his own eyes overflow. How long they stayed like that, he would never know but at last, she began to calm down somewhat and he pulled away.
Her eyes were red, her face blotchy and tear-stained and he touched her cheek lightly. The one question that had been ringing in his head jumped into the forefront and spilled out his mouth before he could stop it.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Fresh tears spilled from her eyes but she held his gaze. "I was going to tell you tonight. I just c-couldn't write it in a letter! I c-couldn't- I'm so s-sorry, Brandon!"
"It's okay," he whispered, holding her tightly again. "It's okay."
She pulled away and shook her head. "I can't believe this happened to me. I can't believe I got pregnant! That's just so... so..." Unable to find a word to describe it, she shook her head again and sniffled. "It must've happened over Christmas."
"I thought we were careful," he said, guilt rapidly mushrooming inside him, beating its cadence over the horror and panic that still swirled within his gut. "I thought-"
Emerson wiped her eyes. "Well, obviously we weren't careful enough. We used backup for the Estralevon Potion but what about those times in the middle of the night?"
His heart sank. She was right. Just off the top of his head, he could recall at least three instances in which both of them had awoken and reached for each other. Those times, they'd been too groggy with sleep and focused on the purpose for their waking up to even think about casting a backup charm and they'd always fallen right back to sleep afterwards. He would always wake up in the morning wondering if that late night snack hadn't actually been part of the earlier evening's main course and had never once thought about their carelessness.
Until now.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching for her hand as she sniffled softly. "I'm so sorry, Em."
She threw her arms around him again and they both cried for a few minutes before she lay back on her pillow and wiped her nose. He couldn't take his eyes off her; her pain was so acute that he fancied he could literally feel it.
Swallowing hard, he rubbed her hand that he still held. "How long have you known?"
"About three weeks," she answered. "I think I suspected it for a while before that but I didn't want to acknowledge it."
"How did you find out for sure? Did you go to a Healer?"
She shook her head. "No. If I had, I'd also have found out that it was ectopic. I didn't know it was until tonight. The Healers said it ruptured, which was why it was so painful and why it bled so much."
"I thought you were... I thought you were dying," he whispered, his voice trembling with remembered fear and horror. "What would I have done if you'd-"
She lightly covered his lips with her fingers. "But I didn't. I'm fine. Physically, anyway. If this were a Muggle hospital, I'd have lost that tube, the one that ruptured. But I guess they essentially Reparo-ed it." She tried to smile but her lips trembled and a sob escaped her throat.
Brandon gathered her into his arms again, kissing the top of her head as she cried in his embrace. She could have died, was the one thought that rang in his head. The Fallopian tube that contained the ectopy had ruptured, resulting in massive internal bleeding and if he hadn't found her when he had, she would have hemorrhaged to death on her bathroom floor.
Because of me. Because of my carelessness, my irresponsibility, my-
"-but one night, I went with Krishna to one of those all-night chemists, which Americans call drugstores," Em was saying, her voice low and tight with pain, and he forced himself to listen. "She needed to pick up some things and I was just trailing along behind her. She stopped to browse and my eyes landed on a shelf of pregnancy tests, and just like that I knew. I knew why I'd been tired, why I'd been throwing up, everything. I nearly fainted, Brandon."
He squeezed her tighter. "Did Krishna-"
"She doesn't know," Em interrupted. "Nobody knew, not even Kady. I waited until we'd said goodnight and she'd left before I went back to the drugstore and bought some of the tests. I took four of them and they were all positive. And if I'd known the charm to test for pregnancy, I'd have used that too. But I'd never had to learn it and I couldn't ask anyone now. I didn't want anyone to know, not until I'd told you first. And I was determined to wait until you got here and tell you in person."
She pulled away and leaned back against her pillows, wiping her eyes. "I tried really hard to hide my symptoms, especially the nausea. I put anti-nausea spells on myself before I went anywhere and whenever I felt them wearing off, I'd excuse myself and rush to the nearest bathroom. And I had to pee a lot, which was because of the baby, I knew, but also because I was drinking a lot of fluids in an effort to not get dehydrated." She sniffled and gave him a ghost of a smile that vanished as quickly as it'd come. "I told a lot of lies. Oh, stomach flu. Oh, it's the getting used to American food again after having gone home. If the situation hadn't been so serious and terrifying, I'd have thought it funny. Like I was involved in some kind of covert operation in which the objective was to ensure that nobody knew the truth. Nobody c-could know-"
She broke down again and Brandon tried to comfort her, feeling so helpless and lost. He didn't know what to say, what to do. But oh God, how he hated to see her suffering like this!
Rubbing her back, he tried to sound soothing. "Well, the good thing is you don't have to do that anymore. The covert stuff, I mean."
He realized immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. Emerson stiffened and pulled away from him, her eyes wide with shock and disgust. "'The good thing'? How can you say that? H-How can you-"
She turned away and began to sob in earnest and he sat back, bewildered. He would never consider her suffering to be a positive, not ever. She knew that, didn't she? But under the circumstances, this was a good thing, wasn't it, that this conclusion had been reached? Perhaps 'good' wasn't the right word; perhaps 'best' was more appropriate. Given the alternative, this was for the best, wasn't it?
Because he knew he wasn't ready to be a parent and he didn't think she was, either. What about her education? What about her goals? And they weren't married. Which wasn't that big an obstacle in his mind because he knew that he would marry her in a heartbeat, if she would have him, and not because of a baby or anything.
Oh yes, that was assuming he would still be alive, of course. Brandon shuddered at the thought of what her father might do to him if he found out! His palms grew damp and, forcing himself to leave off that line of thinking, he was more certain than ever that this outcome was the best one for them overall. Besides, according to the nurse, even if this hadn't happened tonight, the pregnancy still would've had to be terminated.
So why-
Brandon frowned, watching her trembling shoulders. All that was true, but what if- but how could that be? Had he misread her that badly? His eyes wide, he blurted, "Wait, you didn't want to be pregnant, did you?"
Emerson's reaction was so immediate that he jerked back, startled. "Of course I didn't want to be pregnant!" she shouted in his face, her eyes bloodshot as she glared at him. "But I was anyway. I was! This would've been our baby, Brandon!"
Her voice broke on his name as the sobs overtook her again, but this time she let him hold her. And he understood. It was the abruptness of it all that hurt her so much. Fate had thrust something on her, made her think she had no other option than to embrace what it had forced on her. She hadn't wanted it, she hadn't planned for it but, slowly, he was sure, she'd begun to accept it even a little bit. And then Fate had said, "Ah, never mind", and rudely snatched it back, indifferently ripping to shreds that tentative bond that she'd begun to form with what would have been her child. His child. Theirs. That was why she was in so much pain, and although he knew that she likely knew this was for the best, she grieved still. How could she not?
She cried for a long time and all he could do was hold her and whisper how sorry he was, how much he loved her. Gradually, she calmed down somewhat and lay quietly in his arms, her occasional sniffles the only sound in the room.
"It's ironic, isn't it?" she said suddenly. "I'm the product of an unplanned pregnancy and then I have an unplanned pregnancy myself. You'd think Fate would try to be a bit more original. Although this ending is definitely a departure from the other one, I guess."
Not knowing what to say to that, he just rubbed her back slowly and after a moment, she pulled away and looked up at him. "Brandon, please don't tell my parents, or anyone, okay?"
"You're joking, right? Me tell Harry Potter that I accidentally knocked up his daughter? What, you think I have a death wish or something?" he asked, trying to sound terrified. Which wasn't very difficult actually, because he was terrified.
She managed a minuscule smile. "Okay. I'm not going to tell anyone about this, except for Lyna. But nobody else. I'm so a-ashamed."
He pulled her to him wordlessly, holding her tight, and that was how the nurse found them when she returned, carrying two steaming goblets, one in each hand. Emerson drained both containers without even asking what they were for, then lay back on her pillow with her face turned away from them. Brandon sat beside her until she fell asleep, and felt himself suddenly gripped by a fatigue unlike any he'd ever experienced before.
"Mr. Wood?" He looked up at the matronly nurse, who beckoned to him. "I need to speak with you outside."
He followed her and sat in the chair she indicated, his head feeling leaden and stuffed. The empty goblets still steamed on the tray beside them and he looked up at her. "What were those for?"
"Oh. This one was a rehydration potion, laced with sleeping draught, and this one was to help with blood replenishing," the nurse explained. "Your wife-"
"She's not my wife," he blurted.
The nurse raised her eyebrows the scantest half-inch but gave no other reaction. "Not yet, you mean. Right?"
In spite of himself, he couldn't suppress a small smile. "Right."
"Well then, your wife-" she said defiantly while her eyes twinkled for a moment before turning serious, "-while she's physically out of the woods, she's not fully recovered. The Healers fixed her up perfectly and she should be able to conceive normally in the future. But you should refrain from intercourse for at least two weeks, to give her body time to truly heal."
Brandon felt himself coloring. "Okay."
"But that's not all," the nurse continued, looking grave. "She'll need time to recover emotionally as well. She might become depressed and will need a lot of support and patience. If she lashes out at you or withdraws, try to remember that she's not doing it to spite you. She's hurting and needs you now more than ever before."
"I understand."
The matronly nurse patted his hand. "Good. Now, I'm here most of the time and I find myself to have taken a liking to you two. Such a lovely girl she is. Those eyes! And you're a fine-looking young man." She chuckled at his fierce blush. "But what I'm saying is I'm here, if you ever need help. All right?"
"Thank you," he answered sincerely, shaking her hand. "I didn't catch your name, I'm sorry."
"Oh, Dawson. Nurse Addie Dawson. All right?"
Brandon nodded. "Thank you. Can I stay with her?"
Nurse Dawson waved him in. "Of course! You can stay as long as you want. And if you need anything, just let me know."
She patted him on the shoulder and bustled out of the room, leaving them alone. With a sigh, he walked over and sat down again on the chair beside her bed. He stared at her peacefully sleeping features for a long time, wishing with everything he had that he could ensure that when she woke up, that peace wouldn't promptly depart.
He didn't try to stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he picked up her warm, limp hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. Then, still holding her hand, he lay his head on the side of her bed, praying for the strength to get through whatever it was that would come, the good and the bad.
Because somehow he knew that neither they nor their relationship would ever be the same again.
********
TBC
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End Notes:
Well... bet y'all weren't expecting that, eh? Your comments would be welcome. Thanks!