Quick note: I should have mentioned when posting the first chapter that this is post Season 4, so I went ahead and gave Susan her promotion to Captain. And obviously Marcus survived.
000
"Captain, are you all right?"
Susan winced as the dull ache in her back slowly increased in severity, but she schooled her expression as she glanced over at Corwin. "I'm fine. Carry on, Lieutenant."
She turned to leave C and C, thinking it might be a good idea to go by Med-Lab. This couldn't be right, could it? This latest cramp was stronger than the others had been. Stephen hadn't said anything about cramping. She was almost at the door when another knot of pain coursed through her, this one worse than anything yet. Raising her hand, she tapped her comm-link to call Dr. Franklin, just in case. That was when she felt it, the wet, sticky gush, and suddenly, horror stricken, she realized just what her body was doing.
000
Marcus wiped the sweat off his brow as he made his way into Med-Lab. He'd been in the middle of a training session when he received an urgent call from Stephen. Susan had been rushed in, and things did not look good. He'd run through three levels and just as many corridors to make it there. He slowed down to a walk, stopping momentarily to regain his composure. And then he rushed into the unusually quiet facility.
The first person he saw was Stephen. The doctor shook his head sadly and then lowered his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Marcus. There was nothing we could do. She lost the baby."
Marcus flinched as Stephen's words sank in. It couldn't be true, could it? They'd lost the baby. And Susan . . . She'd be devastated. She'd been so happy at the prospect of becoming a mother. A little nervous, but happy.
"How is she?" the Ranger asked.
"As well as can be expected," Dr. Franklin replied, indicating with a nod of his head which room she was in. "You can see her now."
Marcus went to her, his insides twisting with sympathy and despair. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling, tubes connected to her body. Her face was pale, and as he stood watching her, a tear pooled at the corner of one eye and trickled down her cheek. She looked so vulnerable, lost and uncertain. He wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her, tell her everything would be all right. Instead he reached for her hand and held it tightly, a thumb stroking the back of her own hand as he waited for her to notice him, but her gaze remained fixed on the ceiling.
"Sweetheart?"
At last she looked at him. "I lost the baby, Marcus."
"I know," he whispered as he bent to brush her lips softly with his. "I'm so sorry." He knew it was inadequate, but he could think of nothing else that could even remotely describe how he felt. "We'll get through this. I'm here for you, you know that. Is there anything you need, anything I can do?"
She stared at the ceiling again. She wanted to withdraw into herself and hide from everyone. In all her life, she had never felt more miserable and angry than she did now. She'd been so happy about the baby, and now it was gone, torn from her body just as she was really beginning to believe that she could be a mother. Spontaneous abortion, Stephen had said-a nice, neat medical term. But that didn't describe how she felt inside, torn apart, empty. Empty. He'd said that sometimes these things happened; it was nothing she'd done to cause it.
But Susan knew. God had decided that she was too happy, and now it was time for her to hurt again. She should have known better than to let herself be happy. It wasn't for her. Not for Susan Ivanova. Hot, bitter tears coursed down her cheeks, fell unchecked onto the sterile med-gown. It was so unfair. Hadn't she been through enough? Why did she have to hurt so much? Why?
"Susan?" Marcus' quiet voice penetrated her consciousness again.
"I need to be alone now, Marcus," she whispered finally, her voice dull. He deserved better than her. She was toxic, destroying everyone she had a relationship with almost as much as she destroyed herself. It was too late for her, but not for him. Besides, what could he help her with? He couldn't put their baby back inside her. It was too late. It was all too late.
Marcus' heart rebelled at the thought of leaving her alone. She was his wife, his lover, his friend. She needed him, and he needed her. They'd just lost their child. They had to deal with this together. "I can't leave you alone. I won't leave you alone."
"Marcus." There was an edge to her voice. "Please. I don't need you here looking at me like that. You're making things worse."
He stared at her in silence for several long minutes. Of all the things he would have expected her to say, this was the last. He felt as if he'd been slapped in the face. "Susan, you can't mean-."
"I do. Please go, Marcus."
He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay with her, comfort her, grieve with her. The loss belonged to both of them. So why was she pushing him away? He closed his eyes. Maybe she did need to be alone, but Gods, he didn't want to leave her. What should he do? Finally he relented. If she wanted to be alone, he'd give her that time, no matter how much it hurt him.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "All right. I'll go. Just remember, I love you, Susan."
He walked out slowly, reeling from the double blow of the loss of their baby and Susan's rejection. What had he done wrong? He almost ran into Stephen before he saw him.
The doctor looked at Marcus, sighed, and motioned him to his office. Sometimes it was difficult to separate himself from the detached physician he was supposed to be. "How is she taking it?" he asked as he settled down in his chair.
"She's taking it hard. How else could she take it? She'd already bought an outfit, and now. . ." His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair in frustration.
Stephen leaned back in his chair for a minute. "Susan's strong, so she'll recover physically soon enough. The difficult part will be the emotional recovery."
"What can I do for her?"
"Just be there for her."
Marcus glanced toward the Susan's room. She hadn't moved since he'd walked out; she still lay staring at the ceiling. "I'll always be there for her. Trouble is she doesn't seem to want me."
Stephen patted his arm, a gesture of sympathy and friendship. "She's just gone through something very traumatic. It'll take some time."
Marcus held his head in his hands. He didn't know whether Susan would be able to deal with yet another loss. She'd lost so many that she loved, and now their baby as well. It was bloody unfair. His shoulders shook with grief and worry, and when he finally looked back up at Stephen, tears glistened in his eyes. "I hope you're right, Stephen."