John shifted and tried to turn on the bed, coughing and spluttering as he did so, but completely ignoring the nurse's protests.
"Anna," he whispered.
"Yes, John," Anna answered, biting her lip to keep the sobs inside, "I'm here."
John reached out a hand; Anna took it between her two. The nurse, bless her, was clearing the room, and someone had found Anna a seat. She slipped into it gratefully, pressing his hand against her lips and her cheek. They were alone now, and tears did fall, pouring from her with tortured sobs as she leaned forward to bury her face in her husband's neck, as she had done so many times before.
John slipped an arm around her as best he could, holding her in place. "Join me," he pleaded, and slowly, hindered by her own blurred vision, Anna climbed into the bed beside him. She on the left and he on the right – just like always.
Anna's thoughts were interrupted as, wrapping herself around John (for the last time), she felt a dampness on her neck.
"John?" She twisted herself to look at him without pulling away. The look on his face was heartbreaking, and as she kissed his tears away she felt that this heart of hers was never going to begin to heal.
"Anna," he whispered, "I'm so afraid."
Anna knew the depth and significance of what he was saying. He'd only used those words a few times, and only ever to her. In times of war, mostly, when anything might happen. She understood his fear. She was afraid, too. But she wasn't going to let her husband be unhappy, not now (in his last few hours – minutes, even).
"Hush now," she murmured, kissing his forehead softly and bringing up a hand to caress his face. "Don't be afraid. You've been so wonderful in this life, you're going to be wonderful in the next."
"Anna, the things that I've done-"
"Are over," she said firmly, interrupting him with a tender kiss. "You turned your life around, John. I'm so proud-" But no, she couldn't finish. The magnitude of the situation had finally overwhelmed her, and she buried her face in his chest, broken sobs shaking her body violently. John's feeble arms tightened around her, and she could feel him crying along with her.
"I don't want to leave you," he managed after a minute. Anna looked up at him, tilting his head against his chest. "You're not," she said, trying not to sniffle too obviously. "You'll always be in my heart. It's going to be all right, John, I promise."
John nodded against her, but it turned into a vigorous and frightening coughing fit. Forcing herself to work through her tears, Anna carefully wiped the blood away and held him close to her heart. There they stayed in silence for a few minutes, and then John turned to look at her once more.
"I love you," he said quietly, lifting a hand to her face. "So much. I've always loved you, Anna, from long before you knew. You made me so much better than I was. You've given me everything I could possibly want out of life and so much more. I almost wish I could take you with me."
"I wish it, too," she choked out. "John, I don't think I can go on like this without you…"
"Shh, none of that." John reached for one of her hands with his free one, and pressed it to his lips and cheek, a reversal of their roles not long ago. They had always comforted one another. "You'll never be without me, Anna." He lowered his hand from her face and pressed it against her heart. "I'm always in here. You'll never be alone."
And then his hands loosened, and then his face changed, and then his wife threw her arms around his limp torso, sobbing uncontrollably into his shirt. And the deafening machinery cried out with her in sympathetic agony.