It was late when he made his way through the corridors leading to her room; a path he now knew by heart though every day he wished he didn't. Instead he just wished for her to be well…for their baby to be back…for their chance to be a family, though he knew that right now it wasn't meant to be. The moon shone brightly outside the hospital, lighting up the grounds eerily, while stars twinkled brightly overhead. It was a beautiful night out there and he planned to make the most of it because he could no longer bear to see her in such pain.

He shifted the heavy bags in his hands as he walked, wondering how she was doing. He'd only seen her briefly that day before his shift and again she had seemed a little subdued. He had spent every moment since then thinking about her and hoping that she was okay, finding it particularly hard because it was his first full day back at work rather than at her side while she recovered. It had been absolute torture for him being away from her and if he was honest, he didn't know what he would do with himself when she no longer needed him there.

As he made his way to her door, he remembered the conversation that he'd had there that very morning when he had been stopped on his way to Plastics by her consultant. Worry had immediately gripped him. Had she taken a turn for the worse and no one had told him? Had she acquired an infection? Was that the reason why she had been so quiet? She was feeling worse and didn't know how to tell him? His fears however had been quelled when the man had explained that Frieda had been told before Michael had arrived that she was going to be able to go home the next day on the proviso that she consented for her condition to continue to be monitored at home and to visit a trauma counsellor at the hospital. While she had agreed, the man explained that she hadn't seemed particularly overjoyed by the idea, regardless of her less than sunny attitude towards being an inpatient. He had asked Michael if she had spoken any more about it with him. Truth be told, speaking with the consultant had been the first time that Michael had even heard any news about her going home. Truth be told he too felt miserable about it because he knew that there would be a distinct lack of Angry Barbie in his life from that moment on.

Knocking on her door, he peeped his head around it to see her sat in a chair by the window, gazing up at the stars.

"Sacha said you left long time ago." She told him softly, without even turning around. "I not expect to see you."

"You really think I'd not bother to come?" He asked her.

Frieda shrugged.

He hated that once again she was doubting him…doubting the feelings that she had only days before acknowledged as being meant. He had no idea what she felt for him but still there he was doing his best to support her. Doing his best to prove that he cared.

"The Doc told me that you were going home tomorrow. I went to get you some clothes because I figured you wouldn't wanna go home in scrubs. I also had some errands to run, which is why I want you to put on this…" He commented, gently throwing her coat onto her lap. "…and then get into this."

He motioned to a wheelchair which sat unused by her door.

"And why may I ask do you want me to put coat on?" She questioned, her eyebrows raised and her gaze for the first time meeting his.

He couldn't help but smile at the childlike look of curiosity that had appeared on her face.

"Well, you aren't going to find out by just sitting there are you?" He teased, smiling as she lifted herself up from the seat and began to pull her coat on. He placed the bag of spare clothes onto the bed and immediately rushed to help when she winced.

"I poorly woman, and you taking me out in cold." She exclaimed with a mock sigh as he carefully pulled her coat up over her shoulders, his knuckles brushing the soft skin of her cheeks.

"I had to make your last night in hospital memorable didn't I? After all, you'll barely have to put up with me after tomorrow. That's a cause for celebration all on its own." He told her a little sadly and he noticed her hesitate a little with her coats buttons as she looked up at him.

"It will be…different." She commented quietly, and he so wished that he could see into her thoughts right at that moment and know what she was feeling. "Thank you for bringing clothes."

"You're welcome. Eddi leant me your spare key. I hope that's okay."

"Of course." She told him softly, smiling as he motioned for her to link her arm in his. He carefully led her over to the wheelchair.

"I know you're gonna hate me for taking you out in this but I didn't want you to hurt yourself more, and you know…I'm a little too old to carry you."

"This is true." She responded, her dimpled smile once again appearing and warming his heart. "You are old man…" She teased.

Gently he helped her lower herself into the chair. He then pulled off his scarf and kneeling down in front of her tied it around her neck.

"Contrary to what you believe I don't want you catching cold." He explained, resisting the urge to place a tender kiss on her forehead. "Although I don't know why I should be so considerate after that painful comment." He added, giving her arm a playful swat.

"Because I was mother of your child and you love me."

"There is that." He agreed, pulling himself up and moving behind the chair so that he could push it; enjoying the playful banter but at the same time willing her to once again really let him in.

"What are you up to American?" She questioned again as he pushed her out of the door and through the hospital corridors. "American…" She repeated minutes later when they were in the hospital grounds and he hadn't answered.

"I thought you'd like some fresh air…and something other than hospital food." He told her, wheeling her over to the picnic area and easing her out of the wheelchair and onto the seat by the picnic table. He watched as she marvelled over the wooden pagoda, now covered in roses and fairy lights and the table in front of her, with a delicately patterned table cloth now strewn over it, covered in rose petals, candles and plates containing a variety of Ukranian foods.

"How did you…" She started, unable to find the words.

Her eyes immediately met his as he sat down at her side, passing her a plate and a glass and pouring her some water.

"I rang your mom to tell her how you were doing and in the midst of my usual telling off from her for helping to put you in such an awful state …let's just say I got a bit emotional and she felt sorry for me. I asked for her help because I wanted to cheer you up and thankfully she gave it."

"Did you cook this?" Frieda asked him, her mouth open in awe.

"I did, with a little help from Nurse McKee. I can't promise that it's edible, but we gave it our best shot."

"Thank you." She replied a little tearfully.

He took her hand in his and entwined her fingers with his own, blowing warm air onto them as she shivered slightly.

"You deserve it." He told her sincerely. "Now, dig in…" He added, unable to take his eyes off her as she happily dished up food onto both of their plates and then ate more heartily than he had seen her do in days.

"This is so beautiful Michael." She whispered, turning to him as she finished her meal and running her fingertips over his cheeks.

"Not as beautiful as you." He replied, placing his hand over hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "There's something else I wanted to do. I thought…maybe it might help."

He reached under the bench and pulled out a sky lantern.

"I thought that this might help us say goodbye to the baby." He explained, carefully watching her face for any sign of anger or upset. Making her feel awful when she seemed happy was the last thing that he wanted to do, but he knew that closure on such a hard chapter of their lives would be beneficial in the long run. "I know that we're never gonna forget what happened and we're never gonna forget that we could've had a kid but…we've got no other way to mark our baby's passing…and with it being your last night here…"

Frieda gently lifted herself up from the bench, and using one of the candles lit the bottom of the lantern. With one hand she gripped it tightly and with the other she reached out for one of his own.

Slowly she led him away from the table and over to an open area of the hospital grounds. Hands trembling, she turned to him, her eyes full of tears.

"I not know if I can let this go." She told him softly, tears beginning to stream down the olive cheeks now rosy with cold.

"Then we'll do it together. We'll let it float up as high as it can go so that little Spence can see that it's mommy and daddy are thinking of it…that we'll always be thinking of it."

He reached out his free hand and placed it on the bottom of the lantern with hers, its flimsy material trembling with the emotion that was causing their hands to shake.

"This is just us saying goodbye, you know that right? This isn't me trying to pretend that it never happened…to ignore Ukraine or you, or the fact we made what would have been a beautiful, bouncing baby…"

"I know." She replied honestly. "Goodbye baby." She then whispered; the hand entwined in his gripping it even more tightly.

"Goodbye little one." He whispered, the pair tearfully turning to each other and giving each other a small nod before letting go of the lantern and watching its ascent.

For a few moments they both stood, their eyes turned upwards towards the sky as they watched its path underneath the stars; then she was on the ground, having fallen to her knees in a fit of sobs.

"This was a terrible idea. I'm so sorry…" He told her tearfully, falling onto the ground behind her and pulling her carefully over to him so that she was sat between his knees with her back against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively around her.

"No…." She replied softly. "I need this. We need this…to say goodbye…so we can start to move on from whole, terrible, ordeal."

"If moving on means being apart from you…" He started, planting a chaste kiss on the top of her head as worry overcame him that they were nearing the end of the time they had spent so closely together, trying to get over such pain and incredible loss.

"It doesn't." She reassured him, shuffling her body so that hers was facing his; the tear tracks on her cheeks sparkling under the light of the moon. She then leant in for a deep and tender kiss.