Mark paced the hospital waiting room nervously, running his hands through his uncombed disheveled hair. He hadn't had time to make himself presentable when he rushed Jan out of the house and into the ambulance. Hell, he hadn't had time to do anything. He was still wearing his pajamas.

He was too overcome by shock to be fearful, or sad. Instead, he felt angry.

What's wrong with Jan? She could be dying. Why didn't she tell me something was wrong?

The thought occurred to him that whatever was wrong with her, she might not have known about.  He needed someone to take the blame. Whether it was himself, or Jan. Someone was at fault.

It was almost five in the morning. The waiting room was unusually quiet, since there weren't many people there besides Mark.  The silence was eerie.

A few moments later, the hospital entrance burst open to reveal a breathless Roger and Mimi, followed by Maureen, Joanne, Collins and Frankie.

"You guys never stop, do you," Mark said, putting on a weak smile.

"My God, Mark…how is she?" Maureen asked, looking extremely troubled.

"I don't know yet…the doctors aren't saying anything to me. I tried to go in with her, but the nurse kicked me out. I just…don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong with her, I can't…" Mark's words were cut off as his voice become croaked, and with embarrassment he realized he was fighting off tears.

Roger stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be alright, Mark," he said, softly.

Mark smiled weakly, and nodded.

"They haven't told you anything?" Mimi asked, quietly.

Mark shook his head. "No. And I've been here for nearly two hours. They haven't told me what's wrong…haven't even giving me a guess of why she woke up in the middle of the night covered in her own blood…" his voice became choked.

Roger placed his arm around him tighter, not sure of what to say. He gave Mimi a worried glance, and she smiled, forcedly at him.

They all stood in an awkward silence.

A moment later, a doctor entered the waiting room, glancing at a clipboard.

"Mister Cohen?" he asked.

Mark swiped at his eyes with his sleeve and turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Come with me, please."

Mark looked back at his friends, and they looked back at him with hopeful eyes.

He swallowed and followed the doctor into the hallway.

He followed him down the hallway, and then they made a right, stopping at the first door to Mark's left. Unable to help himself, Mark glanced into the tiny window embedded in the door. He saw Jan, asleep. Her rusty-colored blonde hair was spread out around her pillow. There was an IV attached to her right arm. "What's wrong with her?" he whispered.

"Mister Cohen, your girlfriend has lost quite an amount of blood," the doctor began.

"God damnnit, I KNOW that! She woke me up in the middle of the night covered in it!" he snapped, impatiently. "I don't want all the long details. Please…just tell me what's wrong. Is she going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine," the doctor assured him. "The bleeding may last for about a week or so. We're going to keep her here during that period, for observations, and to make sure she's getting proper nutrients through the IV, since she's lost so much blood…So that's the good news."

"Good news…" Mark whispered. She was going to be alright. "What's the bad news?" he asked, nervously, dreading the answer.

"The bad news is that she lost the baby," the doctor said to him. "I'm sorry, Mister Cohen. We're not quite sure why it happened…when your wife wakes up perhaps we can find out more. I'm terribly sorry, though. I hate to give you such bad news."

"Baby…" Mark's head was spinning. "What do you mean? What baby?"

The doctor gave him an odd look. "Your wife had a miscarriage. She was five weeks pregnant." He blinked. "She didn't tell you?"

"No…she didn't tell me. She must have been waiting to surprise me," he said, quietly. He lifted his head and asked, tiredly, "How did it happen? Losing the baby, I mean." The word 'baby' sounded foreign coming from his mouth.

"Well, there are several possibilities to why it happened. It could be genetic…something having to do with the genes. Maybe something she was exposed to…she doesn't smoke or drink, does she?"

"No," Mark said flatly, "She doesn't."

"It could have been something to do with her hormones. Or even by something physical. Like lifting up something heavy, or having an accident…it might have triggered it."

"She hasn't been doing anything out of the ordinary," Mark said, shaking his head.

"Well…sometimes it happens for no apparent reason. At least, the reason remains unknown. Sometimes it just happens at random. Some women just aren't built to have children…it could be something or the genes, or something to do with the hormones." The doctor saw the pained look on Mark's face. "Of course, neither reasons make it any less of a reason to grieve. I'm terribly sorry, Mister Cohen."

"Thank you," Mark whispered. "Can I see her?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Unfortunately, not yet. We're going to run a few more tests. Try and see if we can find the cause, if there is one. By tomorrow, when she's a little more awake, it'll probably be okay to see her. Right now we have her on some painkillers…tomorrow morning, you can see her."

"Okay," Mark said, softly.

"I'm afraid for now there's nothing more you can do…just let her rest, for now. And come back in the morning."

"Right."

"Again, I hate to bring such bad news, Mister Cohen," the doctor said, shaking his head. And with that, he turned and went down the hall, and into another room.

Doctors never appear as sorry as they should be, Mark thought to himself. Probably because they see the same things happen every day.

He peered into Jan's room. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

Jan, asleep, could not answer him.

***

"Well?" Maureen asked impatiently as Mark trudged back into the waiting room.

"She's going to be okay," Mark said, bringing relieved looks to all of their faces.

"What's the matter with her?" Joanne asked, her brow furrowed.

Mark hesitated for a moment. "She…" he paused, trying to think of a rational way to tell them. Finally, he decided there was no other way to tell them than to just say it aloud. "She had a miscarriage."

Silence.

Roger was the first to speak up. "Did you know?" he asked, quietly.

"That she was pregnant? No." Mark said, feeling angry. "She didn't tell me. How could she not tell me?"

"Maybe she was waiting to surprise you," Collins offered weakly, his arm wrapped tightly around Frankie.

"Or maybe she was too scared to tell you at first," Mimi murmured. "When I first found out it took a lot of courage to finally tell Roger."

Roger smiled, weakly. "Yeah, it did."

"Maybe she was afraid you wouldn't want the baby," Frankie said, quietly.

"But I just don't get it…why wouldn't I want the baby…guys…it's me. I'd hit the ceiling with excitement if I found out my girlfriend was having a baby!" He turned to Roger and Mimi. "When I first found out Mimi was pregnant, I was a little jealous of you, Rog. I've always wanted to be a father…" his voice trailed off. "I just don't understand how she could have been too scared to tell me."

"When can you see her?" Collins asked.

"Tomorrow morning. They're doing some tests now to see if they can find out why it happened…" He shook his head. "I just don't understand it. Why me? Just why, damn it!"

Mimi moved over towards him and wrapped her arms around him gently.

Roger kept his hand placed protectively on Mark's shoulder.

Mark gently moved away from them and lowered himself into one of the plastic chairs, holding his head in his hands.

***

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Review, please! Reviews are what motivate me to write more!