notes — alternative universe from the episode blood money, only because i haven't seen the episode in question and the idea itself wouldn't leave me alone.
with love
a crossover fanfiction
He's been asleep for three days ever since he had his operation. She grabs his hand and it's cold, he's cold and he must have about three blankets on him yet he's still freezing and for a split second she thinks the worst. (she thinks he's dead) Then she hears the heart monitor and her heart begins to beat again.
He's not out of the woods yet, that's what the Doctor's says. They say he can die any minute only they don't use that word.
— "will he die?" She asks then there's nothing but silence. Not a yes, not a no, just a — "we're doing the best we can."
Her own knowledge fills the silence. Sometimes it was dangerous being a Doctor, because you know things that others don't know. You know what it means when a Doctor tells you he's doing the best he can. In other words there's not much hope.
She can't think like that though. She can't think he's going to die, she doesn't know how to live without him.
("wake up henrik, wake up, please.")
He has to wake up, there's no choice. He has to wake up otherwise she's going to die inside too. They say that it's possible to die from a broken heart don't they? She'll die from a broken heart if he dares to leave her.
("please henrik, please wake up.")
She's whispered those words endlessly for seventy-two hours, over and over again hoping that he hears. She hopes that he isn't going to leave her in this rubbish world alone. She's even began to pray to God (if such a figure exists) to spare her from a life of loneliness, the life she was destined to live before meeting him in 1983.
She's exhausted both mentally and physically. She's cried since Tuesday and not stopped crying. Of course, she doesn't think it's possible to cry as much as she has done but it is. She feels a tear roll down her cheek and she wipes it away, aware that crying isn't going to save him.
There's a voice in the back of her mind telling her this is goodbye. It's not. It won't be goodbye, it'll never be goodbye.
She laces her fingers through his and hopes her touch will help him to regain consciousness and wake her up from this nightmare.
"How is he?" She turns her attention to the figure in the doorway and sighs, "There's no change."
There's nothing exchanged, the only sound that can be heard is footsteps to the edge of the bed. She's silent for a moment or two before she whispers, loud enough for the figure to hear; "What if he never wakes up?"
As soon as the words leave her mouth, she's all too aware of his fingers curling around her own, "Henrik?"
jottings — what do you think? good/bad/terrible? if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3