Disclaimer: I guess a new year warrants a new disclaimer. I didn't get Desperate Housewives for Christmas, so I still have absolutely no claim to it. I'm just having fun.

Chapter Summary: Carlos tries to help Tom with his grief. A missing moment from "If…"

Coda

A story by Ryeloza

Eleven:

Grief

Carlos paused for a moment before he entered the waiting room of the maternity ward. Through the windows he could see Tom sitting still as stone with tears running down his cheeks, and Carlos knew that something had gone wrong. For a moment, he wanted turn around, walk back to Celia's room and tell Gaby to go find out about Lynette and the babies herself. Then he remembered how world-weary and old Gaby had looked under the unnatural lighting of the room with her arms wrapped around their youngest daughter. He had to do this for her. Bracing himself for the worst, Carlos opened the door and walked in. For a second, Tom glanced at him, and then looked back at the wall as though he hadn't really seen Carlos.

"Did you hear anything yet?" Carlos asked quietly. He came over and sat down next to Tom, crossing his arms over his chest and trying his best not to look uncomfortable.

"We lost one of the babies. Lynette is fine. So is the other baby. But we lost one."

Carlos nodded. He had expected worse news as he'd walked in the room; in comparison it was almost a relief to hear this. Almost. "Wow, Tom, I am really sorry to hear that. Really."

Tom didn't respond, instead simply bending so his elbows rested against his legs with his hands cradling his head. Carlos shifted in his seat and resisted the urge to clear his throat.

The day he had found out that Gaby had a miscarriage, Carlos flew into such a rage that he had to be sedated. He had been furious: at the man who had broken into his house; at the world; at God; at Gabrielle for not being more careful; at himself for not being there when she needed him. The moment was an instantaneous surge of indignation and anger with no thought involved.

Carlos was surprised by how calm Tom looked in comparison. Inexplicably, it was almost as if the news made Tom shrink inside of himself; as though his grief had contracted around his heart, squeezing until he could no longer breathe. It made Carlos anxious to look at him.

"Do you want to punch me?"

Tom didn't flinch at the words, didn't even move his head to give Carlos some kind of look. In fact, it appeared that he hadn't even heard what Carlos had said and the thought of that made him even more uncomfortable with the situation. He was about to stand up and leave Tom to his strangely self-contained grief, when he heard his neighbor say, "Yeah."

Startled, Carlos said, "What?"

"Yeah, I want to punch you. I'd love to feel the crack of your jaw under my fist. I'd love to see you with a broken nose or a black eye. I would love to punch you."

Carlos nodded, slapped his hands on his knees and then stood up. This was something he could work with. "Okay. Go ahead. Do it. Punch me in the face."

"What's the point? It's not going to make me feel any better."

Carlos remembered the smell of his own blood as it had run down his hands after he'd ripped open his mattress. He remembered the sting of every cut and the throb of every bruise. He couldn't remember any of that making him feel better about losing his baby. "But it's worth a try," he said aloud. Awkwardly he stuffed his hands into his pants pockets and swayed a bit on his feet. Maybe it was confession time. "And maybe I deserve it."

Abruptly, Tom stood. He was mere inches from Carlos and Carlos could see clearly that every tear was gone. The broken look in his eyes had been replaced by something even more unidentifiable, but somehow Carlos knew that even though Tom's fists were clenched that he wasn't going to punch him.

"Someday," Tom said in an oddly ordinary voice, "things are going to go back to normal. Our wives will make up and everyone will go back to being friends. Everything will be all right again. But I just want you to remember for the rest of your life that you don't even deserve breath the same air as my wife. And if you hurt her or threaten her ever again, a lawsuit will be the least of your worries. Now if you'll excuse me." Tom brushed past Carlos and out of the waiting room without glancing back.

That, finally, was something Carlos understood.