Make the Flowers Grow

A/N: Please forgive me. This is what happens when I listen to too much sad music; music that I associate with H/R. This is what happens when I'm so worried about the end of the series. If I write it then it can't possibly happen. BTW I never thought I would write something so taboo in my perception of ficland. Sorry in advance. If I owned Spooks this would never happen. Speculation spoilers for episode 9.8.

The sound rings in his ears. He is waiting for the pain to register; to catch up to his brain. It will hurt, he knows. Its happened before many times. But oddly it doesn't hurt. He is huddled over her; meant to protect her. It's only then that he sees her ashen face; her wide eyes. And the slow motions of time caught between the dodged bullet and himself speeds up.

He sees the blood seeping through her jumper and immediately attaches his hand to her wound.

The rooftop is bare now. The gunman gone.

'Don't worry, Harry,' she speaks. 'It's just a scratch. Doesn't even hurt really.' Her nose scrunches up masking the pain with a brave smile.

'Shh,' he whispers. 'Everything will be fine. Help is on the way.' He moves to cradle her in his arm. Her head against his chest as he smoothes the hair from her forehead, holding tight to her waist.

The rain drops start to fall ever so lightly. The cool effect it has on his skin is the only indication of the moisture. He wants to move her under the overhang to keep her dry. But doesn't for fear of hurting her more; causing more damage.

'I'm okay Harry,' grasping onto his arm. 'The rain won't hurt me. I just need you to... to hold me,' she pants. 'Don't go, okay?'

'Ruth, nothing could take me away from you right now,' kissing the top of her head. 'Nothing.'

She breaks the silence after a few moments. 'You know, I'm really sorry we haven't done this before,' shaken breath.

'What.. get shot? Yes, well that was on my list of 'Things to do with Ruth.' Tenderly moving his lips to her forehead.
The comment makes her chuckle and he immediately regrets it as she winces with pain.

'No,' she rests her hand on his chest. 'Hold each other. I don't know why I thought it would be so... hard.'

'I hate to think getting shot has brought you to your senses, Ruth.'

'I fear that it has,' she looks up at him. 'Too late though.' Her face pale and worn. A crease furrows her brow and her eyes fill with tears. She breaths in and out. Her face crumbles. 'I...I love you Harry,' lips trembling. 'So so much, I love you. I'm so sorry.' She gasps to catch what little breath she has. Her hand clutches to his tie; tears fall to her cheeks.

'Ruth,' he breathes kissing her tears. 'Hush, my Ruth. We'll have plenty of time to talk about all that.'

'Can you...can you tell me how you'd picture it?' wane smile on her lips; calm. 'Where we would live?'

'We'd live in a house in London. Have one or two cats that would ultimately fight with Scarlet. The neighbors wouldn't come round because we wouldn't invite them. And if they came uninvited we'd make up wonderful stories of how boring our life is with our incredibly stress-free jobs.'

'That sounds perfect,' she whispers.

'It will be,' he rests his cheek against her damp hair.

'Harry?'

'Yes, my love?'

'You didn't say it.'

'Say it?'

'When someone says... they love you... it's customary to say it back.'

Hearing her weak shaken voice his lips purse to control the quaver that is forming. Breathing through his nose to compose himself. He gasps it out through his rain wetted lips. 'I love you Ruth.'

She sighs softly. 'Hmm... hearing that makes all the pain go away.'

'Shh. You're talking to much. Have to keep up your strength. They'll be here any minute now.'

He's afraid to look down at his hand. He hates the sticky warmth he feels between his fingers. He hates feeling the rest of her body so ice cold.

'Harry?' she clutches his arm. 'I'm scared,' breath soft.

'I'm here,' whispered against her skin. 'I'm here my love.'

She breathes. Her fingers go slack. Her hand slowly falls down his arm.

And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain..
And rain...
Will make the flowers
Will make the flowers...grow

'Ruth?'

[end]

Don't hate me. I promise I will NEVER write something as sad as this EVER again. The song that inspired this was 'A Little Fall of Rain' from Les Miserables. Reviews are loved even though I don't think I deserve them after writing this.