A/N: Okay, here we go with new material. I promise there are happier times to come!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 2

"Shelagh. Shelagh, you have to move."

Sister Julienne's voice floated around her ears as if from another world. It had to be. Only in another world would Sister Julienne ever be so cruel as to ask her to leave Patrick's side.

"Mrs. Turner, the ambulance is here. Let them help him."

Phyllis? Shelagh thought she recognized the stern nurse's tone, but it still didn't make sense. Couldn't they see she couldn't leave him? Couldn't they understand that the only proof she had that he was still alive rested in the pulse beneath her bloody palms? She couldn't lose that, couldn't lose him. His unconscious face held nothing of the passion and intelligence she'd come to associate with her husband and if she stopped feeling his pulse… no, she wouldn't let go.

"Sister, we need to get him to the hospital."

"I understand that."

"Make her understand, then. She's done well putting pressure on the wound, but his chances are slim to none if we can't get him out of here."

No, they would not take him away from her. Not now, not with their child finally on the way.

Sister Julienne's hands gently grasped her shoulders and she felt a stranger's gloved hands cover her own, still glued to Patrick's stomach. It wasn't until Sister Julienne started pulling her backwards that she fully realized what was happening.

"Stop it!" Shelagh screamed fearfully as the Sister's grip on her shoulders became more insistent. "He needs me, you can't do this!" Sister Julienne hadn't counted on Shelagh being that physically strong and she gasped as the sobbing woman on the floor wrenched her body away and anchored herself even further to her husband. The older nun paused, not knowing if she could cause Shelagh more pain, but the emergency responder and Nurse Crane were far less empathetic. Pulling Shelagh away now would be a hurtful betrayal, but it would be forgiven. Letting Patrick die would be...well, none of them could think that far.

"You'll thank us for this later, lass, I'm sorry." Phyllis braced herself and before Shelagh could stop her, wrapped her arms firmly around the younger woman's chest and pulled back as hard as she could. The cry that lurched from Shelagh's throat when her grasping fingers couldn't feel Patrick anymore shook even Phyllis for a moment, but she held her ground. She had Shelagh's arms trapped against her body, but her legs were still fighting to drag herself back to her husband with a fiery strength fueled by grief and fury. "Sister Julienne!" Phyllis snapped.

Sister Julienne forced herself to look away from Patrick and find whatever inner strength she had left. She was horribly out of her emotional depth. She had been afraid for Shelagh before; during her fight with TB, during her infertility diagnosis, during her and Patrick's various fights. Never before, however, had she knowingly had to cause her daughter pain in the name of the greater good. She was woefully underprepared for the feeling, and it felt like no matter what decision she made in the next moment, she was going to fail someone. She met Phyllis' eyes. Better she hates you now and he lives. She knew her colleague was right, but it didn't make it any easier. Taking a deep breath, she stepped quickly between Shelagh and her view of Patrick being loaded onto a gurney and tried to calm her.

"Shelagh, dear, please, you have to calm down and think of baby." she reached out to hold her and her heart shattered when Shelagh turned away from her touch.

"You took him away!" Shelagh cried. "How could you do that?"

"He needs their help, lass." Phyllis tried to assure her. Her hold on the squirming Scot was still strong, but she could feel Shelagh's will fading as Patrick was pulled further and further away.

"I can't lose him!" Shelagh sobbed and her legs gave out as Patrick's body was pulled out of sight and reality came crashing down on top of her. "You can't let them take him from me."

Sister Julienne knelt on the floor and Phyllis gently lowered Shelagh into her arms where she crumbled. Across the room, Patsy, Trixie, and Barbara stood holding each other. Phyllis took a moment to look about the room. It was amazing how a split second could change a world. They worked with the mess of life and death day in and day out, and yet none of them ever really stopped to think about it affecting one of their own. This morning, they'd made Patsy a cup of Horlicks and told her they were there if she needed to talk about the tragic Cartwright birth, but they all knew it would pass. They'd all faced losses, and it was always sad, but there was always another baby to be born. That grief existed on another plane that they couldn't be brought down into or they would never recover. Now, that grief and fear was far more than palpable. Dr. Turner was a pillar of the community and as Phyllis gazed at the horror-filled faces of nurses, nuns, and mothers around the center, she realized she didn't know just how much he'd come to mean to her as well.

But that was a matter for a later hour of solitude.

She put on her strongest mask and began to put things right. It was the only thing she knew how to do in a crisis.

"Nurse Franklin," she walked briskly over to the other nurses, "I think it might be a moment before Mrs. Turner is ready and able to go to hospital. Would you mind-"

"-getting Timothy and Angela?" Trixie finished her sentence knowingly and compassionately through her tears. Sometimes, Phyllis forgot just how close they all were. "Of course." Trixie paused and looked beyond Phyllis towards Shelagh and Sister Julienne. "I think I'll bring them to Nonnatus House. They don't need to be here. Shelagh can come for them when she's ready." The other nurses' eyes followed Trixie's line of sight and realized she wasn't just referring to the younger Turner's distraught mum. Shelagh and Sister Julienne were mere feet away from a disturbingly large pool of blood. The four nodded in agreement and Trixie set off for Timothy's school.

Patsy sighed as Barbara reached out to take Phyllis' shaking hand.

"I fear there's work to be done." Patsy whispered, eyes solemnly looking between the blood and the mop closet.

"How?" Barbara cried.

"We're going to have to find out." Phyllis closed her eyes. It hadn't been this hard to keep control in some time, but she had to. They all had to.

Sister Julienne gazed at them across the bloody tiles with Shelagh still shaking in her embrace.

They had a long journey ahead.

This is going to probably be a slow and emotional ride, but it's helping me work through some real life angst, so yay? Again, I PROMISE this ends happily! Thank you for reading!