You love me, is that real?

Hurricane

"I need to speak to you" the text on the screen in fletch's hand read. He softly put the phone up to his ear listening to the dialling tone
'this is Jac Naylor, leave a message'

'Jac.. it's me... well obviously, I was calling to.. Well I don't really know why to be honest other than to hear your voice, it's been 8 days and I already feel like I'm going insane, but trust me there's not been a day where I haven't held your cold hands in mine with the hopes to warm them up, you look peaceful, I hope you're dreaming in there but I also hope you can feel my presence, hear my voice, listen to my ridiculous attempts of funny anecdotes because I don't know what to say. Well What what can you say when you're losing hope that the love of your life will ever look you in the eye again.

I remember the first time I saw you, it was when I worked in the ED, wow long time ago huh?! I was checking over a patients drug chart when I saw this hurricane come flying through, because that's what you are Jac, if people were rain, i was a drizzle and you were the hurricane.
Your hair, the fiery halo that was always so perfect.
Those eyes, they were molten circles of ice, so stern, so insistent, beautiful.
That smile, the true non sarcastic smile rarely appears but when it does it's perfect.
That day in the ED I never knew that the woman I saw would be the one who I would cross oceans for and leave horrendously cheesy voicemails for. There's so much I hold on to Jac, so much you gave me, so much you will give me if you make it.
Jac.. I'm trying to stay strong, for you, for Emma, for myself, but every day that goes by I feel like I die a little inside, I never want to lose hope ever, I want to be there when you open your eyes, say your first words, I'm trying Jac honestly. But if I ever do lose hope and I'm not there when you wake up, I hope you understand why, I love you, I do and I always will but I'm a father and I have to be there for my kids, I hope you understand and I hope you'll be there to watch me be a father. But for now while I sit and hold your icy hand and watch your chest rise and fall with the mechanical sounds of the machine doing the job of your tired lungs,
I will live in hope even if it ends in tears
I'm yours Jac, yours if you want me. Always Forever.
All my love and more
Fletch'

A silent tear fell from his eye as he lowered the phone and ended the call, he paused and took a breath and then walked down the corridor in ITU that had become his home for the last week. He reached her room and there she was sat up in bed holding her daughter, laughing and smiling, she holds out her hand and summons him over. He walks over and takes her hand in his as she says to him
'you love me, is that real?' To with he replies 'Yes'.
Apart from this isn't real as the noises of the many machines broke his thoughts and he was thrown back into reality with the sight of her lying perfectly still apart from the systematic rising and falling of her chest. Her hair scattered around the pillow like a fiery halo, the same way he had left it in.

(3 days later)

Fletch sat in the same place as he had done before, the same chair, the same clothes, the same hand in his. He had grown used to the soft sounds of monitors beeping, noise was so much better than silence. Then finally, the twitch he had been longing for happened, it was minimal but it was there. he sat bolt upright, heart beating out of his chest, did he imagine it? Or was it real? Then there was another twitch and a flutter of an eyelid, it was happening, it was real.
'Jac' his voice barely a whisper and his eyes were filled with tears and then he saw what he had been losing hope that he would ever see again,
those eyes, so stern, so insistent, beautiful.

(2 weeks later)

'I didn't take you for a romantic fletcher'
'You what?' He asked, stood at the end of the bed.
'Your voicemail'
'Oh that'
'Did you mean it'
'Every word of it' he whispered
'You love me, Is that real?'
'Yes' he breathed, a fresh tear fell down his cheek.

( 2 years later)

Jac Naylor put down her phone, she still had it, the voicemail. It reminded her what mattered in this world. Although she didn't really need it anymore to know what mattered. She looked out of the window at Fletch playing with Emma and her step brothers. Getting shot wasn't actually a bad idea she thought as she watched the sun set behind the trees of their house, whilst holding her newborn child. Yes is definitely wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to her.