This is a little one shot set after Only Human (7th May 2013) and is a bit of an expansion on Jac's reaction. I'm not entirely sure, the style feels a bit different than what I usually do :-/ Thank you to anyone who reads / reviews.

Pregnant.

The condition of having a child, or other offspring developing in the body

She thought she understood the word. Indeed if you had asked her to explain the term to you an hour ago she would have done so with confidence. She would perhaps have raised a quizzical eyebrow wondering why you'd chosen to bother her of all people. But she would have answered, perhaps with a hint of sarcasm.

But now the word didn't seem to make sense. She couldn't quite believe that her definition was correct, or that perhaps there wasn't some new meaning associated with the word to which she hadn't been updated on. Perhaps it meant something different to her, than it did to Mr Thompson.

But then he and Mo seemed to be on the same page. Mo had seemed to agree with his assessment, with the word he had stated through the telephone. The diagnosis, the word that no longer made sense.

Mo saw a change in her body. A shift in her being. That too fit with the meaning she believed. Her body would change with the child developing in her body.

The pregnancy.

It would change her.

She is frozen. Her body in suspended animation as her mind travels at the speed of light. Around her, she can sense the bustle of movement. People are continuing their lives, going on with the things that are normal, and yet nothing right now seems normal and she isn't sure how to deal with it.

Everything suddenly seems heightened around her.

The noises which are usually only background sounds are suddenly ringing loudly in her eyes. She can detect voices talking to patient, the sounds of bedside televisions play, the sound of blood pressure cuff inflating and the bleeping of machines. Normally she can block the sounds out, to concentrate. But not now, they are overwhelming her. They are filling her head, a head which is already filled with the idea of a baby; an embryo growing within her.

She feels like her head is going to exploded with everything that is happening. All of the noise is pressing in on her, making it harder to breathe, while her head expands with each passing second. Too much information is trying to pass through her brain and it's going in to overdrive, unable to filter out that which isn't needed. Instead it all batters her.

The noises of the ward. The reality of the day. The fact that Mo knows her secret, her secrets. She doesn't understand how so much has happened. She wishes that everything could stop. She wishes that the hammering in her head would stop. She can feel tears burning in her eyes, emotions that she doesn't want to make visible and yet she can feel them edging closer to the surface, just waiting to bubble over.

Normally she can push it away.

She can slip away from the reality of the world.

She blinks, trying to clear her vision.

She closes her eyes.

Allowing the blackness to wash over her.

Quiet.

She opens them, slowly.

The ward is still moving. People going about their jobs, oblivious to her. They don't care, not now at least. Soon they will. Soon they will gossip; but for now she is invisible to them.

She is invisible to everyone but the woman standing next to her.

Mo is watching her.

But it doesn't matter now.

She is oblivious to the registrar.

The noises slip away from her in to the background, where they belong.

She is still.

Her stunned mind, frozen.

She cannot deal with this now.

Not yet.

So she pauses.

She is safe here.

Still

And

Quiet.

Tomorrow she thinks.

Tomorrow she considers.

Not now.

Not yet.

She isn't ready.

It isn't real.

Not yet.

It can't be.

She turns.

Slowly.

One foot in front of the other

She walks

Walks away from the phone

From the one who knows

Mo may call after her

But she doesn't hear

She walks

Embracing the quiet;

The stillness of her mind.

Her escape.

The empty quiet world.

Her hiding place.

Here she is safe.

Protected from harm.

She is still.

Quiet.

And safe.

Until tomorrow.