After Death.

            Harry was crushed, he felt like he couldn't breath. He wanted to scream, but nothing but tears came. She was gone. Amanda, his wife of six years and best friend for even more, had passed away. That's not really the worst either, no, the worst was that his son passed away also. Amanda had passed away during childbirth with him. That was going to be his second child, the younger brother to Darcy, his three year old daughter. Harry dropped to his knees right there in the waiting room, not really caring about who saw him. The nurse kept trying to help him up, wanting to take him into a more private room, but Harry wasn't having it. He openly sobbed, the love of his life was gone.... And he had a three year old at home, his mom, Anne, watching her. He kept crying and security had to escort him out of the hospital, leaving him out on the cold bench, "until he composed himself". He had his head in his hands, sobbing brokenly to himself. Why did she have to go? She was perfect. Harry stood up and punched the brick wall, out of rage. His hand throbbed and his knuckles started to bleed, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything, but he hoped that in some way they could get her to come back. He had little knowledge when it came to watching Darcy. He was away on tour the majority of the time that she was growing up. His band was the largest boy band in the world, and just because he had a family, didn't mean his other life got to stop, or even slow down, as much as he wished it would sometimes.

              He sat back down on the bench, looking at the damage he had done to his hand, rubbing his fingers over the cuts. He wiped the tears away, after all he did have a few paps starting to gather around him. He didn't say anything, he just got up, walked back into the hospital, and walked straight to the front desk.

                "Can I help you sir?" The lady behind the front desk asked him. 

                He nodded and bit his lip, not wanting to start crying again. 

               "Can I see her?" He asked almost silent, his voice quivering just the slightest bit. 

              "Who? Who can you see sir?" The nurse asked, slightly confused herself.

             "Amanda Styles. She was in the prenatal unit about twenty minutes ago. I- I just want to see her on last time." Harry said, fighting the god damned tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. The nurse, Jessica, who was behind the desk typed something into the computer in front of her.

             "I'm sorry sir, but who are you to Ms. Styles?" Jessica asked, looking back up to Harry. He first coughed into his fist, trying to clear his throat.

           "I'm her husband." He said, allowing a few tears to flow down his cheeks, both meeting on his chin before falling onto the plain tiled floor.

         "Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have known. Dr. Alex here, will take you back to see her if you like." Jessica replied apologetically. Harry nodded and the doctor walked around the end of the desk, walking in front of Harry. The doctor held out his hand and Harry shook it quickly, just wanting to go back and see Amanda. 

            "How are you today, Harry?" The guy asked, like it wasn't obvious that it was pretty shitty. 

          "My- uh- My wife and newborn son are dead. I'll let you figure it out yourself." Harry said, trying to keep a level head. 

           The guy nodded and the rest of the walk to the morgue was silent.

          "Sir, I'm going to have you put on a pair of gloves. We don't want you to get sick. I will warn you though she doesn't look like she normally would. We can leave whenever you are ready." Alex said, handing Harry a pair of white, rubber gloves.