Summary: He couldn't do it again.
Word count: 1287
Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or the characters. I only own Michelle.
"We could have another baby!" Michelle yells.
"We're not replacing him" Leonard yells back. He says him weirdly, like Tyler hadn't been anything, or more like he had been everything.
"We're not going to replace him. But we need to move on!" She says, maybe too harsh or too soft, she couldn't tell anymore. That line on the sand was smudged ever since that awful moment she lost their child, on that cold winter night, as if the weather knew what they were going through.
"Move on?!" He yells, not being able to hide his anger anymore. He was angry at everything, at her, himself... everything but his still-born. But even though he was angry at her, he was mostly pissed with himself. He was in self-destruct mode.
"Yes." It came as a whisper, a soft plead for him to calm down a little bit. I'm hurting too, she meant to say. But there was no way he would take it well, without yelling back.
"That's not possible!" He yells, once more. This time she gets a whiff of alcohol, just like all the other times. He was drowning himself in booze to somehow cover his pain. She pitied him, right there. She couldn't save herself from the pain she was feeling inside, and without saving herself, she couldn't save him.
She sees him march out of the door, without even looking behind him. She sees as her once loving husband gets in his car and goes away. She sees herself falling to the ground, realizing she lost everything. It hadn't been fair, and it still wasn't fair. As he went away, she was worried about him never getting back home, being somewhere with his car against other cars, him not being able to move and eventually die.
Even if he did die there, she wouldn't lose. That had happened already.
She wakes up then, the cold sweat running down her pale, tired face. It had been like this for so long, ever since he called her. She tried to help, she really did. He was moving on after she had done the same. The only difference being that his wife really wanted him, while her husband disappeared with her kids without saying a word. Without allowing her to say goodbye to them.
Looking around the cold, hostile environment she was in, she can remember the feeling of being his girl, of him grabbing her waist and dancing around with her on their wedding day. The next days were like that too, she recalls, him being so sweet and compassionate. The day she found of her pregnancy, he calmed her nerves, telling her everything would be okay, making promises he couldn't keep.
And when she miscarriage, he was her ground. Until it, all fell apart. She can't be exact on when that happens, but one day everything changed. He was someone else. Someone she didn't recognize.
She can remember the moment she saw them hugging each other like he did with her years before. If she closes her eyes, she can imagine them holding each other in bed, all content with each other. Him rubbing her belly, talking to his child, just like he had done with their child.
It was painful to think about it but somehow kept her sane.
She had killed all those people in an awful car crash, and still, somehow, Leonard being with someone else was worst, in her head. That was jealousy taken to a completely different level.
She doesn't care if she was accused of it, after all, it was her fault. She wasn't asking for penitence or pity. She didn't need a lawyer just so that she can whisper that she's guilty. It's her fault those peoples lives were cut short. Just like it was her fault her son wasn't even born. The only reason for her to leave would be to make Leonard and Penny miserable, but she loved Leonard way too much to hurt him. She didn't want it to end like it ended all those years ago.
She had found him at his preferred bar, just in the middle of the place he always got his haircuts and his pharmacy. It was an odd place to put a bar, but he didn't seem to care.
She was greeted by the bartender and owner, Alika – which name was perfectly given, meaning guardian. He had been her husbands' confider ever since she couldn't be anymore, ever since he stopped trusting her with his secrets and problems.
She found him at the back of the car, sipping his whiskey tonic, and judging by the glasses on the table, it wasn't his first.
Michelle cautiously approached him, looking at him carefully. His glasses couldn't mask the pain visible on his eyes, the dark circles under his eyes told the story of all the restless nights he had been having for so long. He had lost weight, too much in her opinion. He had always been a short man, but there he seemed even smaller. But to her, he was still as amazing as he had ever been.
But once he looked up and saw her, and their eyes met, she knew. She knew there was nothing there worth saving.
No matter how much she wanted to protect him, to save him there was no use. She would come out of there as the bad guy, not the scared – scratch that, terrified! – wife whose husband was getting lost within himself. With red eyes that were a clear indication – if dark circles weren't enough – that he hadn't slept well in weeks, but it was clear he had been crying. She saw his hard shell on, the walls to protect him from everything growing everything second. She wanted to tear them down because one day he would have the walls so high he couldn't climb them himself. He would end up hurting himself in the process. He already was.
But that mask he put on, the walls and everything else, they covered the good part of him. The part of him that made her smile, be happy. That was an awful indication that he had nothing in the world. She was being treated like nothing. And she didn't like that.
"I'm sorry." She started. But as soon as those words came out, he had his wallet on his hands, money on the table and he left. In that split second he had his wallet open, she saw the last sonogram they had done before the loss of their child.
He was lost, and it didn't seem to ever get better.
Staring at the wall, tears came down. She doesn't want to remember, but she's going crazy with the thought that she doesn't exactly the moment things ended. It wasn't that moment, it was later, almost a month later, maybe before maybe after. She didn't remember. Those days went as a blur to her. Days passed without her realizing it.
She remembers the moment he became, for a second, violent. But she could almost see his big brown eyes with compassion for her once more, scared of the man he was becoming. She saw him leaving there and not showing up during an entire week until she found an envelope by her door, with the divorce papers signed by him and the ring on top. Had it been then that things were over? Or was it before? Why did he throw the bottle to the ground? Why can't she remember? She was going crazy, wasn't she?
And somehow, as Michelle stood in that cell, the awful, painful memories and the thought of going crazy because she couldn't remember, were what kept her sane, grounded.
End of Chapter 8
I know it has been like five months since the last update on this story, so here it is. I have no idea on what to write next, so if any of you have literally any idea, please tell me! Tell me what you thought of this chapter, please. :)
And, btw, sorry for having an entire chapter dedicated to Michelle, but I added a little of Leonard there too, so...^_^
Also, does Leonard seem OOC? I mean, he's grieving so maybe it's understandable, but I honestly don't really know. And I sincerely hope I'm doing the whole miscarriage story some justice, don't have any experience with it...
