I stand still, trying to keep myself from falling apart. Logically I knows I should be under an umbrella, that I should pull myself out from under the downpour, but to the disbelief of my friends I can't feel it anymore.
Even as I see the droplets coming from the sky in buckets, the cold no longer affects me. The droplets no longer stir a reaction from my skin. The only thing able to pull a jump, a start from me is deep within the ground.
My beloved, my Ian is now gone forever. My head falls forward, a fresh wave of tears hitting me with staggering force. I collapse forward, the anguish finally tearing free. The crowd turns as my screams fill the air, agony tearing at every shattered heart attending the solemn ceremony.
"We were supposed to have time." I sobs, the force taking my breath away in a fist of iron. "You promised me time!"
"Wanda." A hand touches my shoulder, but I am far from feeling the warmth. I pushed them all away at first, let no one touch me, but now I can't manage a fight and as fast as my outburst came it's fading, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. "We gotta go."
I stands slowly, this new frail body stumbling slightly. A strong hand catches my arm, calloused finger pads brushing over her now soaked, yet bare, skin. My lifts her head slowly, gazing into the familiar face of Melanie Stryder, a face I once wore. I pull away and suddenly that comforting hand is on my shoulder once again.
When I look up I sees someone who's been a great comfort, none other than the second O'Shea, Kyle. He seems to be the only one to understand, though he can't reach the depth of my pain. Ian was my soul, my true other half. Now I have nothing but a few of his belongings.
Somehow, the tears have stopped. At first it was a never ending stream, days spent sobbing alone in the darkness. Soon it all stopped and it was then that I knew, I had died along with my love. Ian holds a part of me with him, a very vital piece of my being. Back there, that moment of pain, was the first in a long time. The first amount of feeling to touch my chest, my mind. After having so many wild emotions before, ones I couldn't understand, it scares me to feel none. But as hard as I try, I can manage nothing but emptiness.
Sometimes I think the darkness will take me, swallow me till there's nothing left but this body.
Sometimes I wish that would happen.
"Want food?" Kyle asks, but I can't look up. I can hear his own pain, so apparrant, but I can't even manage my usual sympathy. Before I can answer he leads me in to the main cafateria, pushing me in to a seat beside Jamie.
"You have to eat." Jared says when a moment of dead silence pasts. I don't give an answer. I know they're trying to help, but I'm far past any form of help. I'm to gone, to lost, and to alone. When Kyle returns he has two loaded plates and cups balanced between his arms. He sets them in front of me before sitting across from me. We gaze at each other, but eventually my eyes fall. As I turn my attention to my plate the smell hits me, cheese something. Before I can react the nasea hits, my stomach twisting and lurching violently. I turn, my chair tumbling over and breaking through the quiet.
Melanie is up in seconds, her powerful muscles carrying her towards me with Jared close behind. She pulls me towards the bathroom but half way there my body shows its impatience as I double over and the few things in my stomach come rushing violently up.
"Are you alright? What was it?" Melanie asks when my shuddering finally stops, my ragged breathing and the smell of bile filling the thick air.
"Ch...cheese." I supply, caving brokenly into her arms. I wish I could handle it on my own, but I'm not strong enough. I want someone else to hold my pain, selfish as it may be.
"The smell?" Melanie's face is suddenly filling with horror, my gut twisting as she exchanges a loaded look with Jared. I can't understand what's wrong. I've been getting sick for awhile now, maybe a month. Just thinking of Ian, of how he passed...my breath comes in sharply. It hurts to even poke the memory much less draw it forward. That memory is what brings the vile taste of my stomach to the back of my throat.
"Let's take her to Doc." Jared urges, grabbing my free arm to support my jelly like legs. I don't protest, my energy seems to be leaking from my body each minute. These emotions, I understand why my people don't have them.
I don't like them.
"Wanda, Melanie, Jared." Doc says in a low, gravely voice. His eyes are red, swollen from crying. Jeb is in a chair beside him, his leather face worn unbelievably further. "What is it? Something wrong?"
"Will you just look at Wanda? The...smell...of some cheese made her sick." Melanie says the words slowly, but my brain is far to foggy to bring forth an explanation of the enunciations.
"Ah." Doc reaches for me, gently leading me to sit on one of the many cots. My body limply moves the directions he urges, my soaked clothes still sticking to my skin. He has me take a urine test, something I can't begin to comprehend.
Eventually, it's all over and we're sitting together, something white in Doc's hand as he emerges from the back. His face is even more broken then before as he looks at all the others.
Finally his eyes land on me.
"Wanda," Doc says slowly, turning to strip in his hand. There's a small green, slightly blurry, yes at the edge. I shake my head, looking up at him. "Wanda, your pregnant." It's a new feeling this one, a new stab that burns through my head all the way down to my toes.
"I...I..." My throat catches and the tears begin to slip free, salty paths melting with the rain water already coating my skin.
"Are you sure?" Melanie bites in, emotions I can't read flickering a second a time across her wide open eyes.
"I'm guessing eight to nine weeks. Congratulations, Wanda." His voice isn't as happy as you'd expect, but that doesn't matter. A rush of joy is spilling into me, a small, small hope.
"I have Ian with me?" I whisper, the tears spilling faster down my cheeks as I let out a sobbing laugh. "A part of him is inside of me?"
"Well, yes, Wanda. You have your Ian." Melanie's eyes are filling with tears and for the first time I see her cry, diamond like streaks coating her tan face. I lift my shirt slightly, staring down at belly button. Now that I'm looking, there is just a small bump.
For the first time since that dark day four weeks ago, I feel better. I may not be happy yet and I may not be healed, but now I have something to hold on for. I have my sun to push away the darkness.
"I'll protect you." I whisper, pressing my hands against my skin like somehow the baby will feel me, hear me. "And I'll tell you all about your Daddy, how wonderful he was. I..." I trail off, but as the phrase cuts off determination rages through my chest. "I love you, baby."
Because, I do love him or her. It's a wonderful feeling, sweeping through me and bringing back feeling for just a moment. But that moment is all I need to know I can heal. I will always have the scar where my heart split, but now it can close. I can heal.
"Let me tell you about some things you'll need to be doing now that your with child." Doc urges and I look up, staring at the very people who feel such a strong love for me. Ian is gone, but maybe I'm not as alone as I thought.
It still hurts, so horribly, but they will help me through. They will help me raise my child.