I am working on the next chapter of More Together, but this scene wouldn't leave me, so I wrote this first. I don't really expect anyone to like this but here goes... Set in the latter half of series ten, with one major difference.
Ruth closed her eyes, dreading what was coming today. Harry was going to visit her at home, and unless she fancied a picked lock or a broken door she would have to let him in. She'd avoided speaking to Harry frankly since she'd been discharged from hospital. She didn't want to shout or get angry, and since the bomb explosion she'd been doing both without warning, almost unable to control her emotions. He'd only spoken to her briefly about her leaving Thames House officially and the very respectable pension they were offering her, as opposed to the Home Office where she'd been for less than a fortnight so would get nothing.
When he had signed her off nothing more was said than was absolutely necessary between them. But volumes had been spoken behind their eyes, sadness and regret at the forefront. She had spoken in monosyllables, not wanting to have a conversation with him. After a few minutes Harry had got the point and simply taken the form that she'd signed for her resignation before leaving her alone, much to her relief.
If only she hadn't done as Harry asked a few weeks before. She looked back on that almost with desperation. That stupid laptop computer that she had gone into the American embassy to steal for Harry. On Harry's orders. And then the bomb had gone off. The bomb that neither MI5 nor the CIA had detected had been in there in the first place. Ruth wondered if she hadn't been so distracted with how she felt about Harry and the mess of the Gavirk's whether she'd have found the bomb or not. And if she had, she would no longer be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
She had been buried in the rubble for about four hours until they'd found her, and she'd been conscious the whole time. Wondering if she'd ever be discovered or if she'd actually die there, trapped and bleeding to death. At the hospital they'd immediately put her under and it was only when she woke up two days later, groggy from the medication that she realised her right leg had been amputated.
Whenever she thought of exactly what had happened to her, only because she'd been doing a favour for Harry who she loved more than what was wise, she got so frustrated that she was likely to break whatever she was holding. Ruth shook her head to try and clear the horrible thoughts out of her mind. At that moment the doorbell rang. "Impeccable timing Harry," she said under her breath. Wheeling through to the door she unlocked it quickly, another surge of frustration as she had to reach up for the lock. She didn't even look at Harry, instead she just wheeled back through to the living room, waiting for him to follow her. This was not a conversation she wanted to have but she knew she had no choice as Harry looked at her and she felt like she was almost withering under his gaze. But she would hold her ground. She was the one who had to live in a stupid wheelchair.
I do have a semi plan for this one, so if its not too much trouble can you please leave a review? Thanks. (How horrible am I for amputating Ruth's leg? Sorry!)