A/N: This story follows random moments of Tom and Lynette's relationship written around a certain emotion. Each chapter will be at a different time in their lives. Enjoyyyy :)

Despair

"Your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone. These wounds won't seem to heal; this pain is just too real. There's just too much that time cannot erase."

~.~

The lights in Fairview Memorial Hospital were dim that night, casting an eerie glow into Lynette Scavo's already gloomy room. Despite the abundance of bright, cheerful flowers filling the countertops, with balloons attached that read, "Get Well Soon", Lynette still felt more morose than she had in her entire life.

She lay awake, wrapped tightly in Tom's arms, snuggled closely in this twin bed that clearly shouldn't be supporting both of their heavy frames, especially since she was pregnant. However, that really didn't faze her, because, in a moment of vulnerability and loss of composure, she begged the doctors to let her husband spend the night. She had needed to be close to him, to feel the strength of his arms encircling her as they slept, the heat of his breath against her skin. Without it, she probably would've gone crazy. The truth of the matter is that, without Tom, she didn't know what she would do right now.

She had spent countless different occasions in that same hospital, staring at the exact same cream-colored ceiling, counting the exact same speckled tiles. Each time had been a number of varying circumstances, some good, some immensely terrible. There was the birth of the twins, Parker, and Penny. In all of her life, holding her children in her arms and watching as they opened their eyes and looked at her for the first time were the only joyous moments she'd ever had in an emergency room.

Then, there was the shoot-out in the supermarket, where she spent the better part of the week recovering from a wound caused by a crazed wife who was hell-bent on revenge. She had dreamt of Mary Alice for the very last time lying in the hospital bed, and it held such significance for her that she couldn't even reflect on it in a bad light. In that moment, she had just felt overwhelming happiness to just be alive.

When she was diagnosed with cancer, she had refused to spend extensive time in the hospital. She came solely to get her chemo treatments, and then she was out of there. Even though that was without a doubt one of the scariest years of her life, the days she'd spent killing time within those four walls with her husband and her friends were hardly what she'd call agonizingly painful.

Then, there were the countless times that she'd had the unfortunate displeasure of being the visitor instead of the patient. When Tom threw out his back (so many times she couldn't even keep track anymore), when he nearly lost his life, when her children did idiotic things like jumping off of a roof, or trying to create a three-person pyramid to get to the cookie jar. To Lynette, those moments had always been more unbearable then being in there herself. She had no control over whether they got well, and she couldn't make their pain go away.

However, this time was different in the worst way.

She ran her hand over her stomach, feeling the comforting nudge of her unborn daughter. She snapped her eyes shut for a moment, trying to force back the tears that were stinging to fall, and choking back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

There should be two of them. She should have a little boy nudging her hand too. He should be right beside his sister, waiting to leave the womb and start his life that would've been extraordinarily miraculous.

But, no. He was gone. Stripped away from her before she got to feel the soft, silky texture of his skin, or hear his piercing cry as he took his first breathe of air, or see the color of his eyes. She'll have to wonder forever what those pivotal moments would've been like, had he survived.

For the rest of her life, she would have to look at her gorgeous baby girl, and think about her brother that never was. And, in the back of her mind, as much as Lynette wanted to tell herself that eventually all of the pain would dissipate and that everything would go back to normal, she couldn't shake this unsettling numb feeling that was penetrating her every sense. She knew nothing would ever be the same now, and on some level, it was her fault.

She knew that she had had no choice but to save Celia. If she hadn't have ran in front of her, the plane would've taken her down. She'd had no choice. That's what she had to keep telling herself, because it justified why she sacrificed her own life, and ultimately and unknowingly her unborn children's.

The anguish was taking her over. She felt it inside her heart, making it heavy and merciless. It was taking over her mind, making every thought excruciating and domineering. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, and she couldn't even force herself to get out of the bed. All she wanted to do was cry. That wasn't who she was, and that frightened her.

She wanted to talk to Tom. She needed to hear the warmth of his reassuring words wrap around her like a blanket, shielding her from the sorrow that was reality. He was the only thing that had kept her from giving up on everything else in life. He was so much more to her than he'd ever know.

With composure in her voice that she had no idea how she'd managed, she whispered quietly, "Tom, are you awake? Tom? Tom?"

When she got no response, she took a deep breath and punched his shoulder with force that she didn't know she was capable of. He visibly winced and opened his eyes, looking at her with a bewildered expression.

"What the hell was that for, Lynette?"

"You were sleeping."

"Yes, I realize that but was the punch necessary?" he asked with a whine as he looked down at his right shoulder, which was sure to be bruised in no time.

"Well, I called your name like three times and you didn't answer," she began, intentionally avoiding his eyes as she commenced to divulging the real reason she awakened him. "And, I needed you."

In a moment of irrational thought, he sat straight up, hovering over her in a protective stance that actual made her smile. "What's wrong? Is it the baby? Are you in pain?"

"No, it's not the baby, and no I'm not in physical pain," Lynette answered with an exaggerated sigh as she pushed on his chest, watching as he fell back onto the bed with a thud. She could tell he registered the emphasis she put on the word physical. "I can't sleep."

Tom nodded his head sympathetically, fully aware of why. He knew, though, that she'd probably never admit that she was grieving, so he would have to do his best with the information she'd offer up. "Well, obviously. It's been a tough night."

"You seemed to be sleeping just fine."

"Yeah, I was until I got punched by my very own little Mike Tyson over here," Tom joked, trying to lighten the mood a little. Sure, his heart was damaged beyond repair too, and all he felt like doing was sleeping and crying, but he had to be strong for Lynette. He was the only thing she had.

He received nothing more than a small grin from his wife as she laid her head back against his injured shoulder. She wanted to tell him everything; to let all of these horrifying emotions spill from her body and be rid of them forever. But, she knew that even if she did do that, she wouldn't be rid of them. It would be temporary relief, if anything.

"Lynette, honey, talk to me," Tom asked, running his hand up and down her spine soothingly. He could feel the grief hanging over their heads like a dark cloud, looming and waiting for the right moment to release its unforgiving streak of lightening to destroy them. If they didn't talk about this, it eventually would do just that.

With a long, drawn out sigh, Lynette pondered her options. She could expose all of her inner heartache and finally be free of the numbness that seemed to be strangling her from the inside out. Or, she could do what she was so great at doing; hiding all of her emotions deep within her, suppressing every miniscule thought that crossed her mind.

"It's okay to break," Tom whispered as he kissed his wife's temple, noticing the hesitation in her body language when asked her to talk to him. He had to push her to the edge, so she'd crack and tell him everything. He hated having to do it, but if he didn't, she would keep everything bottled up until it ate her alive. He had to keep her away from self-destruction.

That was the moment that Lynette began to cry. The tears rolled down her cheeks in long streams, soaking Tom's t-shirt that she was now gripping tightly in her fist. She didn't-or couldn't-speak through the sobs, so he just held her firmly to his chest, trying not to cry himself.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Lynette choked out, her voice so high pitched that Tom could barely understand her. "He's supposed to be okay. He's supposed to be moving around inside of me, and kicking me. He's supposed to be alive."

She was screaming at this point, and, despite his best efforts, he couldn't get her to calm down. She was too far gone, drowning in a river of her own tears. "It's all my fault. I hadn't wanted them, and now, because of my selfishness, one of them is gone forever. I was supposed to protect them, and keep them safe. But, I failed. I failed."

"Hey, none of this is your fault," Tom said sternly, trying to keep the sobs he was holding in at bay. He was already crying, and if she saw that he knew it would only stand to make the situation worse. "You saved a little girls life. You should be proud of that."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Lynette asked, her voice venomously seriously as she looked him dead in the eye for the first time all night. "I killed one of our babies. Am I supposed to proud of that?"

"Lynette, you didn't kill anyone," Tom answered, with the same stern voice that she had used. He didn't believe for a minute that any of this was her fault. She did what any admirable human being would've done in that situation, and Lynette was nothing below admirable. "You did what you had to do. Even if you had known this would've been the cost, you still would've done what you did, because you love Gaby, and had anything happened to Celia, it would've killed her."

At that, she went silent. She knew what he had just said to her was all true. She hadn't anticipated that this would happen, but she was certain that if she had, she still would've saved Celia. She couldn't have just stood there and watched as her friends baby got splattered by a runaway plane. But, that wouldn't stop her for regretting that decision for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to hold him in my arms," Lynette whispered, finally calming down enough to not be screeching in Tom's ear. The tone that was in her voice now, however, hurt him more than the screaming did before. It made his heart ache and his stomach turn.

"I know. I do too," Tom answered, planting a small kiss on the top of her head.

"I want to watch him take his first steps. I want to hear you sing that adorable lullaby to him while he's lying on your chest, and you both fall asleep before you even finish. I want to watch him lye in his crib and stare up at me with that little smile that all my babies have given me," she continued, tears still streaming rapidly down her cheeks. "But, I won't. It hurts so bad and I don't know what to do to make all of this pain go away."

"You might not think that what I'm about to say is true right now, but I swear to you that I will make this pain go away," Tom stated, his voice solid and sure. If he couldn't pull her out of this, than no one on this Earth can.

"I love you so much," Lynette said, leaning up to kiss him.

Usually, when she kissed him, Tom felt passion, lust, longing, and affection coursing through her lips. Tonight, however, he felt something scarily the opposite. He knew that this kiss wasn't technically to show him her love, or anything relatively close to it. This kiss was seeking shelter from all of the mental torture that she was going through.

All he could feel in her lips was despair.

The second chapter for this is already written, so if you're dying for more, REVIEWWWW. ;)