Becker's POV
Becker struggled against the medical restraints that were pinning him to the standard issue ARC hospital bed as a team of doctors all dressed in white scrubs worked diligently on Jess.
"Where's all this blood coming from?" He heard one of the doctors say and he twisted his body as much as he could to get a better view of the room, and instantly wished he hadn't. There was blood everywhere, it dripped from the once stark white sheets of Jess bed to form an enormous puddle on the floor. The worst part was the fact that there wasn't anything he could do to help her or the baby. Becker jolted hard on the bed as his mind raced to fill in the thought was normally on the foreground of his mind.
"She's pregnant," he shouted. Only it came out as more of a whisper from a burning throat. He swallowed desperately a few time to wet his vocal cords enough to speak.
"She's pregnant," this time it came out at a normal level, but it was drowned out by the shouts of the doctors and the mechanical whirring of machines.
"Check the GOD DAMN BABY!" At his frantic shout the doctors froze and turned to look at him as one, each with a look of pity on their faces. It was then that Becker noticed that there wasn't a single drop of blood on any of them. It looked like they had all just pulled a set of brand new scrubs out of the packaging and pulled them on. Even their surgical gloves were pristine. What the hell, he thought.
"There is no fetal heartbeat," the doctor nearest to him dead panned, before they all turned back to Jess simultaneously, like macabre robots. Becker broke.
"No!" He screamed as he renewed his efforts to get off the bed. The frantic beating of his heart seems to be mirrored in Jess' heart monitor.
"She's coding," one of the doctor's said, his voice void of any sympathy or compassion. The doctor next to him nods stoically.
"Cardiac arrest," he said before looking over at the clock, "Time of death, ten pm."
"Do something," Becker screams as he thrashes against his restraints, blood now pouring from his wrists despite the soft fabric and padding. His arms wrench free of the bed, ripping the padded cuffs from the side railing and tumbled to the floor. Without a second thought he was scrambling to get to his fading wife.
"There is nothing we can do," a doctor from the back told him and began to wrap the bloodied sheets around the unmoving pale woman.
"Help her," he roared as he pushed his way past the doctors to scoop Jess into his arms. He cried out brokenly at the sight of the gapping wounds covering her chest and belly. There wasn't much left for him to try to piece together, but he still tried. Using his now slippery hands to try and hold the wounds together, but her blood kept pouring out over him. Finally giving up, he put one of his hands to her cheek to turn her to meet his eyes.
"Jess."
"You were supposed to protect us," she said her voice weak, but full of condemnation.
"I tried," he stammered. Shocked that his normally sweet Jess would say something like that, "I'm so sorry, oh God so sorry Jess."
"Why didn't you save us?" she breathed out. The heart monitor attached to her let out one never ending, mournful tone as she went limp in his arms.
"Oh god no," he sobbed softy, "Please come back."
