Sam & Ellie The Fall Before Spring

Part 3

Tears didn't fall from her eyes. She didn't hit the steering wheel in a blind rage and hurt. Numbness took over, empty expected disappointment. Of course, she was worried but she wasn't surprised; she couldn't say she didn't see it coming because she did. She just wished otherwise. But some things come unexpected, even to the biggest pessimists.

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"Sam," Ellie whispered quietly as anxiety threatened to close her throat. She sat, hunched, bracing herself against the pain and panic as she tried to breathe. Her legs were slick beneath her hands, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was six months pregnant, she couldn't be having the baby now. Anxiety swept through her, accompanied by another current of sharp pain. "Sam," she whispered, voice hoarse with pain.

"Huh?" He mumbled as he slowly sat up rubbing his eyes, "what's wrong?"

"I-I think I'm having the baby," she managed, "my water- it just- broke."

"Oh god," he whispered. "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath as Ellie tried to calm her shaking hands.

It's just labour, she thought. She could handle a premature baby, she didn't have a choice at this point. She had to be strong, strong for Fynn. It wasn't about her, but what if they couldn't bring him home? What if she didn't have enough stuff to take care of him? They hadn't even finished moving into the other apartment, what if-.

"Let's get you to the hospital," Sam said, interrupting her thoughts as he stood up and walked around to help Ellie get off the bed.

He grunted, hitting his leg on the edge of the wooden bed frame on his way to the light switch, Ellie barely heard the curse he let out. Everything felt distant as the light flicked on, all she could do was focus on her breathing as she tried to steady herself.

"Ellie..." Sam whispered breathlessly.

In and out, she thought as she inhaled the slow shaky breath.

"Ellie," he repeated louder this time.

It was his tone that had caught her attention, momentarily pulling her away from her thoughts. She looked at him and was met with wide eyes brimmed with tears. His face was pale and grim as he stared at her lap.

She followed his gaze to her legs seeing what made him pale. Blood. Her legs were covered in blood. She screamed in horror and despair. The heart-wrenching cry ripping from her throat of its own volition. Calm abandoned her as she tried and failed with trembling hands to push herself off the bed. But she just couldn't, her arms were just too frail. She wasn't strong enough to push herself away from her baby's blood. She had no strength and she cried out again, the cry shifting into deep desperate sobs as Sam lifted her off the bed, covering them in their child's blood.

Everything after that slowed and went on without her. Sam carried her to the car and drove to the hospital in grief-stricken silence because they knew. They knew even as they entered emergency care that it didn't matter how fast the doctor got to them, their baby, their son, Fynn, was already dead. Her heart was shattered and hollow. Reality far away, evading her to protect her from the anguish that waited patiently on the other side. Everything was out of reach. The world muffling around her as loss weighed heavy on her heart pushing her deep into nothingness. Drowning. She felt like she was drowning. Time meant nothing and she would've drowned forever...

Days passed, then weeks and she had barely spoken. At first, she had tried to act normal, tried to be okay for Sam but eventually, reality came back, and the pain stopped waiting. It attacked her, feeding on her heart and soul. She had pushed Sam away, pushed him to deal with the loss alone while she tried to do the same. He was too much for her, she didn't want to risk a relapse because of her state. It was better that she pushed him away. Besides, every time she looked into his eyes she saw a baby in her arms, staring at her with those same beautiful blue eyes and she was utterly wrecked again. She kept him at arm's length until he came into the room and began to pack.