After driving around for a couple of hours, Marie knew what she had to do next. It was late, not too late where she couldn't get in, but late enough to know that most people wouldn't be visiting a cemetery at that time of evening. What she was hoping for, she didn't know. But the thought of Hank lying alone underground was more than she could take. It probably wouldn't be until the next day or two until they covered the coffin, so in her grieving state of mind she had to take advantage of the moment.

She knew right where to find him. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to gather her thoughts, to the best of her ability anyhow. Sure that she would sound crazy and even more certain that Skylar would think she was nuts, nonetheless she had to say goodbye, in her own way and time.

0000

To most, she had said her goodbyes publicly, and with that she should be able to just move on. But what they didn't know- what they couldn't have known or understood- was that there was still so much unfinished business between them.

Of course, there were so many things she wanted to say, but then again, what was the point? It wasn't as if he would be able to answer her. But there was a painfully aching need burning up inside of Marie that led her to her husband's final resting place. This was the last place she wanted to be, but as Hank had taught her so well during their time together, sometimes a person had to do what needed to be done, whether or not it was easy for them.

Kneeling to the ground, not caring about the unturned pieces of earth that were dirtying her knees, Marie stared in silence at the sight below her. This was it; this was real. Even when Walt had brought her his ring, somehow in the back of her mind she'd tried to convince herself that Hank was still alive, that he would still be coming home to her, that it was just another sick move on her brother-in-law's part. But there was no denying what lay before her, the final piece of evidence that she hadn't wanted but somehow had needed in order to face reality.

Setting down her designer handbag that Hank had bought her ( okay, so she had used his credit card to buy it but still...) Marie knew what she needed to do. Digging furiously, tossing out the contents that were standing in front of her mission- her bottle of prenatal pills, her sunglasses, cards of condolences, bills- finally she found what she was looking for.

Holding up the envelope to try to inspect it (which was difficult in the fading evening light) she reached in the unsealed packet and carefully took out what had led her there on that night. It was the last ultrasound photo that she had taken. . This was actually the longest she had examined it, for other than the physical symptoms that had been continually presenting themselves, Marie had found it rather difficult to process what all those symptoms meant. Yes, she was pregnant, but for some reason she had felt rather detached from her unborn child. Just as Marie had once sworn not to love anyone, let alone Hank, as hard as she tried she just couldn't imagine loving anyone else again. Yes, it was wrong- it was an innocent baby, but not even that could undo the terrible pain and depression she had been suffering.

Maybe she was crazy, but as she looked more carefully at the photo than she ever had, something caught her eye. True, she had to strain a bit, but what had seemed to her from the beginning to be some kind of alien form now looked a bit like a baby. Not just any baby- this was Hank's, and it was all she had left of him.

Carefully bending over with the envelope in her mouth, using her hands to maintain her balance, finally she felt comfortable enough to grab a hold of the envelope and released it, allowing it to fall just to the side of Hank's coffin.

There was so much she wanted to say to him, but it was getting late and she really just wanted to get home. With a heavy heart she managed one little exclamation- "I love you."

She started to say the one word that she'd been avoiding- Goodbye- but she wasn't there, not just yet.

0000

For the next few days she had let all of her calls go to voicemail. Curiously, Skylar had not called, which was somewhat of a relief to Marie. Knowing her sister, she had probably advise Flynn not to call her. Which was probably for the best; it was just too soon to talk to her.

Somehow she had made it to Steve Gomez's funeral. Much like her, his wife had been overwhelmed by all of the support for her and the adoration of her husband. Marie had wanted to take her aside, tell her that she understood better than anyone how Amy must be feeling, but knew that no words can make their situations better. She would call Amy; she just needed a little more time.

Time. They say time heals all wounds, but whoever had said that must never have lost anyone, or even more, never loved anyone. It was all Marie could do to get through each day, let alone grasping the concept that one day she would feel better.

Her ob-gyn had wanted to see her, to do a stress test. They hooked a monitor to her stomach so they could monitor the movement of the fetus, but she was bored to tears. Everything the doctors were doing were procedural, not personal, and Marie was doing what she had to do, nothing more, nothing less.

There were a few beats, a few kicks, but even with the movement of her unborn child Marie seemed unable to form any kind of bond with the child. That worried her doctor, and unbeknownst to her she had called her one-time therapist. Dr. Howard, the psychologist that Marie had seen off and on during her marriage to Hank had been waiting for the call. He hadn't heard a word from Marie since her husband's disappearance, yet he knew all about the situation. Who hadn't? Heisenberg had been America's most wanted man for a brief time, and with his knowledge of her connection to Walter White, Dr. Howard had been most concerned.

But for now, it was Dr. Jenkins, Marie's ob-gyn who was most concerned with Marie's well-being. After reading the results of the fetal stress test, she ordered Marie to an exam room for an ultrasound.

As Dr. Jenkins applied the cold gel to Marie's stomach, she avoided looking at the machine. She closed her eyes, just wanting this to be done and over with as quickly as possible. Looking around at the room, she couldn't help but notice the pale pastel purple that coated the walls. Purple had once been her favorite color. Now all she seemed to notice was black, both in her clothing and the dark circles underneath her eyes that hadn't used to be there.

Dr. Jenkins smiled and lightly tapped Marie on the shoulder. "Hey there. Ready to come back to earth?" She was teasing, but was sincere in hoping to bring Marie's attention to the image on the screen.

"Is it over? Can I get dressed now?" Marie snapped.

"Don't you want to know how your baby is doing?"

"Is it okay?"

"Yes, Marie. Your child is growing and has a strong heartbeat. Everything looks to be just what we'd like to see. How does that make you feel?" the doctor pried.

Marie said nothing. Instead, still in a daze, she nodded.

"Marie...would you like to know what it is?"

Marie looked up at the doctor. "What what is?" she said, puzzled.

"Your baby. I can see clearly the gender. It's up to you, of course, but I think what we've found might please you."

Marie closed her eyes, not quite sure what to do next.

"Marie...please open your eyes. Look at the screen."

Reluctantly she obeyed, not sure of what she was looking at.

"Right there is your child's heartbeat. There are the fingers, your child appears to be sucking its thumb. And there..."

Marie strained to see what the doctor was pointing at.

"Marie...it's a boy. You're having a son."

A son? For so long Marie had never let herself wonder about the child, wonder about its future, wonder anything about it. It had been too painful of a reminder of all that she had lost. But now, for the first time in months, Marie found herself breaking into a smile. A real smile.

Next came the tears which surprised both doctor and mother-to-be. It pleased Dr. Jenkins greatly to see this reaction from her patient.

"Marie...there he is, sucking his thumb. Can you see what I do? This is a 4d ultrasound which gives us a pretty good idea of how your child looks at this point."

Marie strained her eyes to get a closer look, but suddenly she shocked everyone by breaking out into a laugh.

"What is it, Marie?"

"Are those..." Marie pointed to the screen. "is that his cheek?"

Dr. Jenkins smiled and nodded.

"He has chubby cheeks! Chubby cheeks!" Marie laughed.

"Most babies have chubby cheeks, but eventually grow out of that, if that's what you're worried about..."

"No!" Marie laughed as she reached for her purse. Pulling out her wallet, she showed the doctor why she found the idea of her son having chubby cheeks so amusing. The image she provided was one of Hank, who had always had a nice, full face. Now the doctor found herself laughing along with Marie.

"Does this mean that he'll look like...my husband?" Marie sniffed as her laughter returned to a few tears of joy.

"It sure looks like it, doesn't it Marie? Now you can get dressed and make an appointment at the front desk for a month from now."

As the doctor started to leave, Marie halted her. "One more thing..."

"Prenatal vitamins?"

"No," Marie smiled again. She found that she just couldn't stop, at least not for the moment. "I was wondering...could I have a picture?"

The doctor was more than happy to oblige. As she studied her patient's reaction to the photo, she told Marie that she would give her a few minutes to herself. Marie hadn't even heard her. All she knew was that she was having a son, and the thought gave her something that she hadn't had for the longest time- in that tiny black and white photo Marie Shraeder had found her hope.

Tbc