She stared at him, eyes wide in her pale face. Paler now than usual without the ever present make up that usually adorned it.
"Are you sure?" He asked, voice trembling over the words he could barely get out.
She nodded, drawing a shaky breath, a smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes. He moved toward her, wanting to comfort, but stopped even as his hand reached out. Somehow touching her felt wrong, like he was cheating on the friend he had just lost. His eyes strayed to her stomach, so flat now, soon to be so round.
"Is it –." He couldn't say it, couldn't ask the question he so desperately he wanted to. He couldn't believe that the answer wouldn't be what he expected, but at the same time it hurt to believe that he wouldn't have known, that they wouldn't have told him.
He met her eyes again, unsurprised to see that hers had tears in them, surprised to learn they were an answer to his. Brushing away the question he couldn't ask along with the wetness on his cheeks he tried new words.
"How is this possible?"
"I don't know."
"The doctors said it couldn't happen."
I know."
"Then how?"
"I can't answer that. Perhaps it's a trade. One life for another."
He flinched at that, but there was no malice in her voice. She didn't blame him, even if he felt she should.
"Do you really believe that?"
"I don't know what to believe. I know this baby is a miracle, but I don't know if it's one performed by God or science. I don't think I want to know."
"You're going to keep it."
Something hardened in her eyes at that. It hadn't been a question but she seemed to feel the need to reply.
"Wouldn't you?"
Throat constricting he gave a nod in answer. How could she do anything else with something that was a part of the man she had loved and lost?
"If you need anything."
"I know. Thank you."
He did touch her then, placing a hand on her arm and squeezing gently.
"You won't be alone during this. There will be people there for you."
Her eyes met his again, the blue of them shining out through the tears that hadn't yet fallen and he read the answer in them before she spoke it.
"Not the one that should be."
He bowed his head, the guilt weighing him down again and turned to leave the room.
"It wasn't your fault."
Her voice rang out behind him, the words loud in the silent room.
"I should have done more."
"Could you have?"
He paused, running over the past in his mind, desperately trying to think of a way he could have stopped it, but was finally forced to answer.
"No."
"I could have."
He spun to face her then.
"You think you should have gone with him?"
"No. I think I should never have let him leave."
The tears that had been threatening throughout the conversation finally fell in rivulets down her cheeks, and he returned to her side. Handing her a tissue he perched on the side of the bed, finding it easier to be closer to her now she was allowing him to see her like this.
"It's not your fault."
He repeated her earlier words back to her, unable to think of anything better.
"It's no ones fault." She sobbed. "I just want him back."
"I know. I know."
"I love him."
"I know."
He sat with her until she stopped crying and fell asleep against his shoulder. Carefully he settled her back against her pillows, gently wiping away the last remnants of her tears. Leaning close he whispered into her ear, making a promise he knew she would only argue with if she heard it while she was awake.
"I will find him. One day, I will find him."
Satisfied he ghosted his hand over her stomach, making his promise to her unborn child as well, determined that it would know it's father. Silently he left the room, ready to begin his penance.