For All Eternity

Poorly Pasta

Joe lurched into consciousness when a hand hit his chest and grappled at his skin. He opened his eyes and found the thing that was scratching to be Dianne.

"Ouch Dot, Jesus," he mumbled, taking her hand in his own, wondering why on earth she was doing that. He lifted his head up, and discovered, from squinting at his phone, it was just after two o'clock in the morning. He turned his head to look at Dianne, whose grip was incredibly tight on his hand and noticed a thin sheen of sweat across her body which was bathed in the yellowish light from the bathroom. Ever since Dianne had moved in, it had been like that every night to combat her ability to trip over everything when she walked to the bathroom.

The more conscious thoughts pulled at him, the more he came to realise about the owner of the hand. Her chest was rising and falling at twice its normal speed under his top. There was a slight shake in her hand and Joe was sure he could now hear whimpering ever so often.

"Oh sweetheart," he whispered, squeezing her hand, other hand twisting over the sea of dark covers to brush hair from her face, "you're having a nightmare."

He waited, it was getting worse, there was no pause in the whimpers anymore. Her face, which he could see clearer now, was contorted and he was afraid, if he looked any closer, he might find tears. "It's just a dream. You can wake up. It's okay," Joe encouraged, palm rubbing her shoulder and upper chest to try and bring her around gently. At the least he wanted to stop her dream.

"Fuck."

"Joe!" Dianne said, seeing her boyfriend tip back, holding his nose.

"It's okay," he grabbed a tissue from his bedside table, "are you alright? You were having a bad dream."

"Joe it was so bad," she started crying.

"I know," he turned on his bedside lamp.

"I lost Connie and then I had a miscarriage and then you y-you," she couldn't carry on.

"It's okay," he comforted her with one hand, pulling her onto his chest, both sitting up.

"No, you left me. You killed yourself," she cried, sucking in air now, just as distraught as she had been in the dream.

"I'm not going anywhere. Connie's fine, she's asleep in bed with Bunny and her little picture of Raspberry. And raspberry is just fine. And very safe in there." Joe put his hand on her tummy, discarding the bloody tissue for a second.

"I need to check," she said and rather erratically evaded his grip and walked to the bathroom, colliding with the bed a few times on her way.

"What do you mean?" He followed her, new tissue in his nose.

"I need to check they're still there." She repeated and dug through her drawer to find a pregnancy test.

"Dot, you're fine, they're fine come back to bed honey," he said, watching her shaking hands open the test packet.

"N-no I have to."

Joe nodded and sat on the floor next to Dianne and the toilet. He stroked her leg as she did what she needed and even leaned forward to kiss it.

"I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too. Did I, did I hurt you?" She asked, full of dread.

"No, my nose was already bleeding when you woke up. I'll hold that for you if you want."

Dianne looked at her lap, with the test on her knees. She had planned to just sit there and stare at it until the second line appeared. "I don't have to though."

"I'll just sit here," Joe nodded and kissed her leg.

The two minutes felt like a lifetime. She was still sat there, though she was now back to being fully clothed, sat on the lid of the toilet. Joe remained on the floor next to her watching her face intently, lips still kissing her leg, hand on top of hers. The rational part of his brain wasn't worried, more concerned about Dianne, the other side... it was terrified that maybe something had happened, maybe there was no longer a baby there. He couldn't think like that though, he had to be positive, so he squeezed her hand and muttered reassurance to her as they waited, both with bated breath. To his horror, as it turned 2:34am Joe watched her face drop and tears pour from her eyes, as the test slipped from her hands. Keeping hold of her left one, he fumbled around for it, his heart having dropped through the floor, several feet below to the empty concierge desk. It couldn't be, he kept reminding himself, she hadn't had any bleeding and all of the symptoms had been there when they went to bed. He turned the test over, eyes shut tight until he was ready. Eventually he opened them...