The Superhero:
A/N: Just a little Leanne/Nick one-shot set after last night's episode, as requested by Meg. Hope you enjoy it girlie xx
The clock ticked deafeningly, filling the room with an unwanted reminder of how time was passing. Every second that I was sat here, leafing through my contact book of solicitors I had picked up when working with Adam and Imran, my son was breathing in and out. He was alive. He was still alive. My mind was swimming, clutching at the slightest glimmer of hope I had, crossing my fingers with every number I dialled. I was exhausted. I was broken. But I couldn't give up.
Admittedly, I felt sick of living in a state of denial. I knew what everybody was trying to say to me. I knew they cared, but I wouldn't accept it. I couldn't accept it. Once upon a time I thought I could never get pregnant. I carried my beautiful boy for nine months, I delivered him in a lift with my sister by my side, I sang to him every morning and read to him every evening. I felt victimised. Why me? Whenever I saw Sarah arriving home from the school run, Harry in her arms. Or I saw Fiz scalding Hope for putting her shoes on the wrong feet. It made me envious. Jealousy sickening that they could carry on, focus on the trivial things. That they would watch them embark on their first day at secondary school. They'd hold them as they cried when they lost their first love. They'd sit at the top table on their wedding day. Deep down, I knew I would get none of that. I knew it was too late. But I couldn't accept it.
My head shoots up at the sound of the door creaking open, only a crack, which indicates to me that it was somebody terrified I would bite their head off. I wouldn't blame anybody at the moment. I had pushed everyone away. "Who is it?" I demand, sharply, and Nick pushes the door open fully, his sympathetic expression instantly setting my anger boiling. "Oh what do you want?"
"To talk to you." He says softly, closing the door and I raise an eyebrow at his audacity to think he was staying. "Lea, can we just sit down? For five minutes?"
"I don't have five minutes!" I snap suddenly, which to my surprise doesn't even shock him. He just remains rooted to the spot, used to my outbursts. "Wasting five minutes talking to you is five minutes I could be saving my son."
He just waits, patiently. He doesn't press me further. He takes a seat on the sofa and just hangs his head as I dial another number. Begging them over and over. Feeling stupid for having to sink to the depths of vulnerability in front of somebody who gave up a long time ago. Slamming the phone down on the table, the impact plunges the room into silence. My head falls into my hands, tears streaming down my cheeks as I begin to sob uncontrollably. It isn't long before I feel Nick's arms around me and for once I don't push him away. I let him in, because I needed the comfort, I needed to feel something. And despite everything he was the love of my life.
"It hurts so bad." I cry into him suddenly, the dampening of my hair indicating to me that he perhaps was as well. Maybe partly at the loss of his son, maybe partly at seeing me so broken. "I know... I know I've got to let him go." I finally admit through desperate breaths. It felt like a weight had been lifted to even say it. To finally voice the reality of everything to somebody. "But he's my son, Nick. You'll never understand... Carrying a child for nine months, nurturing them, loving them, watching them grow. I'm sorry but you'll never understand."
"I know." He whispers, eventually pulling himself away from me and crouching before my chair, daring to gently brush the tears from my stained cheeks. "I know." He manages a small smile in admittance. "And I know you think I've given up. I know you think I don't care, but I do. I do. This is our family, Lea. I would do anything, anything to make this right. But I'm not a superhero... Nobody is... Except maybe Oliver. Hey? Maybe he's dreaming about being a superhero-"
"Don't. Dont." I say weakly, avoiding his eye contact and squeezing my eyes closed. Taking a moment to inhale a few shaky breaths, I try to memorise a way forward from here. I try to think of any path I can take. But I was stuck. I felt like when Nick was drowning in quicksand. I was stuck with nowhere to go and it was pulling me under. The inevitable was creeping up on me. "...What am I going to do?" I dare to look back at him, his eyes glassy, his face fatigued. "Without him? He's my whole life, Nick. I'll just be... Empty." He doesn't respond with anything instantly, probably weighing up a reply that won't trigger a shouting match. He knew me well, too well. In fact, he was perhaps the only man who had ever known me. From married at sixteen and seventeen years old, just children, so innocent and so naive, to being sat here now. I could see our whole history in his eyes. The love and the hatred. But something always brought us back together.
"Time." He just whispers quietly and I don't react to the word, my mind journeys back to the clock on the wall, ticking away. "That's all it is; time and love. That's the only thing that can heal grief."
"...I don't think I'll cope." I admit quietly, searching him for reassurance. "I don't think I'll be able to carry on."
"You will." He squeezes my hand gently. "You're the strongest person I know."
I travel over his words a few times, examining the earnest glisten of his eyes, wanting to believe him so badly. I needed him. I loved him. Now more than ever. It exhausted me even more to continue pushing him away, to insist on loneliness, to fight this battle with only my own company. "...Nick?" I murmur quietly and he nods his head slowly. "...Will you be there? When..." The words catch in my throat, tears springing to my eyes again, trying to muster the ability to even say it. "...When me and Steve... We..."
"Of course I will." He just finishes for me and I manage to offer him a small smile. It ached to do so, it felt unnatural for my lips to be tweaked upwards for the first time in weeks. But it soon fades, because I'm brought back to reality, to everything I had to face. "Always. Ok?"
"Always." I just whisper, as he presses a kiss to my forehead, bringing his arms around me again and rocking me gently against the tick of the clock.