Short little drabble that I wrote whole at work (yes yes, bad cashier) when I was also writing my comeback fic. Hope you like it a little bit. I don't own anything in this story.
Sometimes she paces up and down the halls, terrified that this time it'll be to late. Scared that Death has finally come to for the soul that should have been his a long time ago.
She know that this time it'll take a lot more then time and few bandages for him to be healed; the blast had burned him badly in a couple of places and she can still see the doctor's face as he told her the news. News laced with some of the most horrible words she'd ever heard in a long time "I think he'll be alright, we got to him quick."
And it's the pacing again because if she stops moving she'll start to scream, and she doesn't want to lose the new strands of control that she has. Her scared fingers keep stroking the slight bulge in her belly and she curses then prays for the man that has caused all of these feelings to go around her head.
Friends stop and talk to her in feeble attempts to get her to calm down, but the closest one has come is when someone brought her some tea. The tea helped her to forget the fact that she hadn't eaten in a while.
After a time, after she's so warn out that she can't even pace anymore, the doctor comes back out. His eyes are tired but happy, a small smile is flashed her way as she's told the good news. Permission is granted for her to go visit him (just for a moment says the doctor though both know that she'll be in the room longer.) so she sneaks in to take a look at him. He's asleep, though that damn smirk is still on his face.
She touches his dark hair and feels all of the love flow though her body again.
"I love you Jim McGrath," Molly whispers.