References: "for being my friend" (Olivia), "letting people help you" (Night of Desirable Objects), "I failed" (Jacksonville)

Everything was white. Olivia's beeping heart rate rang out in an echo that split her head wide open. Almost everything was numb, but what little she could feel hurt like hell. Her eyelids fluttered open and heard someone mutter, "She's awake".

Her head was foggy. It took her a while to place the voice but she turned her head to see a doctor beside her, checking her over. "Agent Dunham, can you hear me?"

She nodded. Her throat was too tight and dry for her to speak. Pulling herself to sit up, she cringed at the dull pain radiating through her body, which seemed to wake her a little. She drank some water. Everything started to come back to her.

"How bad was it?" she asked the doctors, her voice groggy.

They began a jargon-filled medical explanation of her injuries. They explained the impact of her assailant's strikes on her body, the treatment she was given in the ambulance and the procedures carried out once she got to the hospital. She couldn't understand the specifics of what they were telling her, but she understood enough. They told her that there would be no permanent damage. She would recover soon. Trauma psychologists were available at the FBI if she needed to talk about the incident. They told her all of this, but she still felt sick to her stomach. It felt like they were just brushing it off. They talked in their super intellectual medical lingo but they didn't understand what was going through her head. They didn't understand how scared she had been, or how worried she was now trying to figure out how on earth she was going to explain this to her protective husband.

She looked around. Peter wasn't there. "My husband…"

"We've been told he's on his way. But the agent who called the ambulance for you is here – Charlie Francis. Would you like us to send him in?"

She swallowed, running a hand down her face and nodding. One of the nurses went to get him and when Charlie saw her, he softened. "Could we have some privacy please?" he asked the doctors, and Olivia sent him a grateful look as they all left.

He gave her his trademark reassuring smile and came over to sit beside her, holding her hand. "How are you feeling, Livvy?"

She swallowed. "I'll be fine." Her voice was weaker than she needed it to be, barely above a whisper. "They're letting me go tomorrow."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

He exhaled and gently squeezed her hand. "Livvy, I'm really sorry about what happened. I should have gotten there sooner."

"Don't apologise. It wasn't your fault," she said softly. Suddenly she couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears began to well in her eyes. "It was mine."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asked. "That guy came out of nowhere, and you did the best you could -"

She just shook her head and tried to fight her tears. "No Charlie. You don't get it. It was my fault."

"What was your fault?" he asked softly.

"Oh, Charlie…" She covered her face with a shaking hand, trying to keep herself together. But between her pain, exhaustion and trauma of the day, she couldn't help the tears. She felt his strong hand rub her back soothingly as she curled into a ball to cradle herself.

"Livvy, whatever it is, you can tell me."

She lifted her face and smiled wryly through her tears. Part of her wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation, while the rest of her just wanted to cry or go to sleep. "Peter's gonna kill me."

"No he won't. He loves you, and so do I. So it's OK. You can tell me anything."

She nodded, still weeping. Somehow she managed to look at him, holding his hand tight.

"Charlie, I was pregnant."

She could see it – the exact moment when her friend's heart broke for her. "My God, Livvy. I'm so sorry."

"You wanna know what's really stupid?" she asked with a sardonic laugh. "I didn't even know. I had no idea until the doctors told me I lost it in the ambulance. I mean, I noticed I was late but that happens sometimes, with the stress of work. I didn't think much of it. It never crossed my mind that I could possibly be pregnant. And if I'd known, I wouldn't have gone on that raid – there's no way you guys or Broyles or Peter would have let me. I just… I should have noticed. And because I didn't…"

"Livvy, you didn't cause this. Don't blame yourself."

"He's never gonna forgive me."

"Who?"

"Peter. If I was still pregnant I would have been freaking out, but he… Oh, Charlie, he would have been so happy."

Charlie nodded, sighing and giving her a warm, comforting hug. "Livvy, this wasn't your fault. You were doing your job to save lives and some asshole who didn't even know you decided to kick you in the stomach till you blacked out. That's why you lost your baby. It's his fault. Not yours. Peter has nothing to forgive you for."

He felt her trembling and pulled back to study her expression. She looked so nervous. "This'll kill him, Charlie. He'll go nuts."

"Yeah, he might. He has every reason to be angry, and so do you. You've lost something priceless, Livvy. That's worth getting angry about."

"I don't know how to tell him."

"There is no right way to say it. You just have to be honest and say how you feel. But don't worry, Liv. He's going to be there for you, even though he'll be just as upset as you are. Try not to be scared, OK?"

She nodded stoically, wiping her face and taking a deep breath.

"Do you want me to stay with you, when you tell him? As you know by now I'm an excellent hand-holder," he joked with soft smile. "Or I can call Rachael for you?"

Even with everything going on, she couldn't help but smile faintly back. "Thank you, but no. I need to do this on my own. And I'm not ready to tell Rachael."

"That's OK. You don't have to say anything you don't want to. But you might want to give Sonya a call. To be personal with you, she and I went through a couple of miscarriages ourselves before we had Lucy last year. She knows what it's like, I guess. And I'll be happy to talk to Peter."

"I'm sure that'd help. Thanks."

"He should be here by now. Do you want me to get him for you?"

"Yes please. And could you tell Broyles and Lincoln for me? They're gonna want to give me some time off and don't think I can handle telling anyone else today."

"Sure thing."

"Thank you so much Charlie."

He smiled. "For what?"

"For being me friend."

"Anytime, Livvy. If you need anything you know where to find me." He gave her one last hug and left to go find Peter.

The moments of waiting were agonising for Olivia. She had no idea what to say. She was just as shocked about all this as anyone. She knew that as soon as Peter came in he'd want to fight with her like he always did about how she put herself in danger. Trying to brace herself, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to stop crying, furiously wiping her face. Eventually there was a creak at the door and her head snapped up.

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey."

As he saw the bruises on her skin, he shook his head, exhaling. He rushed over and held her tight, his hug almost smothering her. "Damn it, Olivia. I told you to be careful," he scolded, concern and harshness biting through his voice. "We've fought about this a hundred times before. You can't keep putting yourself in harm's way like this. What the hell happened? Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Don't," she whimpered. "Not now, Peter. I can't take it." He felt her shaking in his arms like she was going to explode. Pulling back, he saw tears hanging in her eyes as she struggled to calm herself.

He softened, running a hand over his face. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get mad. You just really scared me." He tenderly pulled her to him and touched her face, cradling her in his arms. "Livia, are you OK?"

To his surprise, she shook her head. "No. I need to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

She gulped. "Peter you have to promise not to hate me. Can you do that?"

He pulled back so he could see the hurt in her eyes, confusion displayed in his own. "Hate you. Why would I hate you?"

She was silent, looking away.

"Sweetheart, I know there's something big going on here, but I also know you're no good at letting people help you. So please, sweetheart, just tell me. I love you and I'm here no matter what."

Olivia was shaking furiously, unable to speak. Not knowing what else to do, he just held her and waited until she was ready to explain. "Peter…" she started, her voice broken with tears. "On the raid, we were chasing this guy and…he caught me off guard. I tried to fight, but soon enough I was on the ground and he was kicking me over and over…He kicked me so hard. He wouldn't stop. Charlie shot him in the leg and helped me, but I blacked out before the ambulance got there."

She could feel the anger in him start to rise up, and she prayed it wasn't at her. "I'm sorry," he said. "That must have been awful. I know I got mad before but like you said on the phone earlier, we both know your work has risks. You were just trying to do your job, Livia."

She shook her head. "Just let me talk. Please. There's more you need to hear."

"OK. Sorry." Olivia wrapped her arms tighter around his middle, burying her face against his shoulder. She felt him rubbing her back in circles, over and over. "Livia, whatever it is, it's going to be OK."

"No," she whimpered. "No it's not."

"Sweetheart, listen to me. I'm sure this is horrible for you right now but if there's something I need to know so I can help you, please tell me."

"I'm trying. It's just so hard."

"I know, sweetheart."

"I'm worried about what you'll say," she confessed in a whisper.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling back to look her in the eye. "Never be scared of me. I'd hate to give you a reason to be nervous. I'm not perfect, and I won't always do the right things Olivia, but I can try. I'll always try and do my best to help you, but for me to do that you need to talk to me. Just…when you're ready."

She took a breath and tried to relax just a little as he gently rocked her in bed like she was a small child. She loved Peter, but right now his touch was of little comfort to her. She knew any minute now she'd be breaking his heart. It was unavoidable. For a moment she wondered if she could get away with never telling him – he'd be happier if he never knew the truth. But she knew that wasn't fair to him. It especially wasn't fair to the child they'd lost.

"I don't remember much," she finally said. "I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I was in a lot of pain. The ambulance brought me here and they treated me. I woke up and the doctors…" Her words caught in her throat and she shook her head.

"Go on, sweetheart. It's OK."

She felt him kiss her hair and hold her tight, and somehow that small gesture gave her the strength to keep going. "And the doctors…the doctors told me everything that happened and what they had to do to treat my injuries. They told me I was pregnant and-"

"What?" he asked suddenly, his voice soft. His eyes drifted down to her stomach. "Oh my God, Livia. Is it… are you two OK?"

She trembled at the question and pulled back to face him, gently cupping his face and looking him in the eye. "No, Peter," she said softly. "The doctors told me I was pregnant."

His eyes went wide as it dawned on him. "Oh my God," he choked.

She couldn't help crying then. "Peter, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. It was too early. If I knew I would never have -"

"It's not your fault," he said, cutting her off. Anger was vibrating through him, she could feel it. "I'll kill him," he spat. "I'll fucking kill that son of a bitch."

"Peter, please," she wept. "I can't handle you being this way right now."

He gritted his teeth and tried to even his breathing, forcing himself to stay calm and comfort his wife. But then he broke himself and the tears came, slight and bitter, reddening the edges of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he choked. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

They held each other for a long time, both of them weeping and shaking. They had found out about falling pregnant and losing the baby all on the same day. They had no time to enjoy it, or celebrate or be happy, not even for a little while. They hadn't even planned on getting pregnant. They had agreed to wait a couple of years before they thought more seriously about having kids. It was insane and heartbreaking to think that they'd had a child for a few weeks and neither of them knew it.

"It's gonna be OK, sweetheart," Peter finally said, kissing her hair. "We'll try again…We'll have another one, I promise."

Olivia shook her head. "I would have been bad at it anyway."

"What?"

"Being a parent."

He sighed, holding her close. "Livia, we both know that's not true. You're always wonderful with Ella and Lucy. I know it was fast, but we would have worked it out."

Olivia let out a shaky breath. "You would have been so happy."

Peter nodded solemnly. "How far along were you?" he asked gently.

"They said only 5 or 6 weeks. I didn't even know until they told me that I'd lost it. I'm so sorry. It's my fault. It was my job to look after this baby. And I failed," she whimpered, sniffling. "I failed and I was supposed to be the one who could stop things like this."

"Shhh…" he whispered as he kept rocking her. "None of that. It wasn't your fault. It's his. He took this away from us."

He said that to her a hundred times but he couldn't convince her. That was so like her – always placing the blame on herself, putting the weight of the world on her shoulders. She seemed inconsolable.

"We're gonna get through this, Olivia," he swore to her. "We will. One day we'll be parents. I promise."

Lying in his arms, she really, really wished she could believe that. She hoped that one day she would accept that she wasn't to blame but she couldn't right now. Not tonight.

Please review, even though the chap was sad : (