A/N:: Once, in every show, there comes a fic like this… (ok I'll stop listening to spamalot!). No seriously, I love a weepie every now and again. And listening to the Hamilton mixtape, there's a song which really got me. (you can guess which). Tissues at the ready! It's to be a stand alone fic, and an original piece. Enjoy!
"Where is she? Where is she?" His raised voice prompted the staff to look up from their desk. His arrival was expected, and he desperately required an answer.
"I'm Sister Robertson, please, follow me sir.." Following the young sister through the maze of corridors, they arrived at casualty.
"Before I show you in, I will warn you, your wife has lost a lot of blood, the doctors are still trying to stabilise her before they go to theatre." Her injuries were worse than he'd ever imagined. They'd managed to shield him from the truth. They didn't need to add him to their patients.
After hearing that, he peered through the small glass window. He couldn't see much for doctors, nurses and machines. He could barely see anything at all.
"Is she conscious?" The sister shook her head, but pushed the door open for Gordon to enter, which he did, albeit slowly. The sea of medical staff parted, allowing Gordon to take a look at his wife, who, even though she was littered with tubes and wires, he recognised straight away.
As he got closer, he took a deep breath, looking at each doctor he passed. He counted at least 4. That meant things were bad. Very bad indeed.
"We're doing everything possible Gordon, but her condition is very serious."
"Thank you." He took her hand in his, and ran his finger over her wedding ring, The ring he spent ages searching for. It had to be perfect.
He knelt down beside her, and whispered in her ear, he knew she could hear him. He knew.
"Jill, it's me. It's me love. You're going to be ok, everything's going to be ok, you'll see. I'm not going anywhere. Please, just stay alive. For me. Just stay alive. That's all I ask. Please Jill. Please?" He felt a hand on his shoulder, it was an older man, a doctor. He tapped his shoulder twice, in a bid to get Gordon's attention.
"Gordon. Gordon…" He recognised the voice. It was someone he knew. He turned and looked up, and yes, there was a familiar figure towering above him, a person he knew all too well.
"Mr Rose."
"They're ready in theatre now. Gordon… " He nodded, and stood, still looking at Jill, brushing her hair away from her eyes. There was a tube helping her breathe, a machine doing it for her.
"Ok.. I won't stop you. Just do what you have to do." He let go of her hand, and watched desperately as she was taken away, Mr Rose following behind. He knew that, with Mr Rose overseeing proceedings, she was in safe hands. Very safe hands.
"Stay alive. Please…" He whispered to himself, hoping his words would travel the corridors to her. He didn't want much. He wasn't religious. All he wanted was for her to do one thing.
Stay alive.