Prompt 40: "Please come home, I miss you."

Summary: Alternate end of Season 3 reconciliation that takes place before they get approved by the adoption agency because I never really loved that the letter sparked them talking. I mean, what if they hadn't been approved? Anyway, this is just what I think might have happened if they tried to fix things pre-letter. Also, I'm having a bit of a rough time right now, so this is a little angsty, but it has a happy ending.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Shelagh had never felt so alone, or so fearful. She'd thought she understood what loneliness meant as an only child with no friends and a distant father. She'd thought she understood what it meant as a nursing student with only her studies and her bible to guide her. She'd certainly thought she understood it in the Sanitorium; miles from anyone she cared for, and seemingly oceans away from the man she loved. She didn't though. Only now, as a wife and mother, did she understand what it meant to open her heart to someone and have them leave it out in the cold. In a dark, secret part of her soul, she yearned for the days before she allowed herself to love or care. At least, back then, if people left her, it only stung. This didn't sting - this ached and howled through her body like broken glass that shattered and twisted further at every reminder that it was long after Timothy's bedtime and Patrick hadn't come home.

The fresh pie on the table mocked her from her defeated position on the couch. It was the first night since their fight that she knew he wasn't on call and she'd taken the opportunity to make his favorite pie in the hopes of them finally reconciling. That hope dwindled, however, as the hours passed and the sun set, and it became clear that her husband was going out of his way to avoid her.

Not that he needed to be out of the house to do that. Even at night, when it was just the two of them in their slightly cramped bed, he was miles away. The other night, she'd reached out to hold his hand as he slept, and he rolled away from her. She didn't even know if he'd done it consciously, but the memory brought fresh tears to her eyes and she angrily stomped over to the kitchen table.

"He probably wouldn't like it anyway." She furiously thought to herself. She stared down at the cold pie for a moment before carrying it into the kitchen and hurling it into the sink, tray and all. She winced at the sound of the smashing ceramic and berated herself for making so much noise when Timothy was asleep. What was happening to her? She reached into the basin and began to remove the larger shards. The remains of the pie hid some of the edges, though, and as she went to grab the next piece, she yelped in pain and a stream of crimson joined the white and brown in the sink. "How fitting..." she thought sadly as she glanced down at her bleeding palm. The new cut, a remnant of their separation, lay barely centimeters from the scar that brought them together.

She traced the old scar and watched as her fingers gently smudged new blood over the old wound. A new, bright surge of determination filled her. They couldn't go on like this. She couldn't keep waiting for someone who was too afraid or hurt to come to her. She would have to go to him. It was foolish of her to think that their fight would magically heal with a few kind gestures. It would be a scar for the rest of their lives, and they would gain more scars as time went on, but this wound couldn't even begin to scar over until they cleaned it - even if it stung.

Checking to make sure Timothy was still asleep, she quietly left for the surgery.

As expected, the light in Patrick's office was still on. She thanked God for that small blessing. At least, even when they were fighting, she could trust that Patrick would hide in his work rather than at the pub or with another woman - something she could not say of every husband in Poplar.

He didn't look up when she walked in. His eyes were glued to his desk, but she suspected he wasn't actually reading the notes in front of him. His face lacked the focused wrinkles she'd so come to love, and instead, looked a bit glazed over.

"You're not on call." she spoke matter-of-factly, but softly so as not to startle him. He looked up slowly and then glanced down somewhat sheepishly when he registered it was her.

"Yes. I just had a bit of work to catch up on." he excused lamely.

An awkward silence hung between them until she found the courage to make the first move.

"Please come home." she asked pleadingly.

"I will…" he struggled. "...I just have to finish these."

"No, Patrick." she shook her head and moved closer to the desk. "Please come home, I miss you." she could see the faint lingering of a protest on his lips, so she forced herself to continue. "And I don't mean come back to the flat and pretend as though everything is fine. I miss you. I want you to come home to me." she hung her head, suddenly terrified he might say no and send her crumbling past the point of no return.

"I don't know how." he finally whispered. "I don't know what to say to make things better."

"I don't either." she admitted. "I just know that I can't bear this anymore. I'm so sorry, Patrick. I should never have said those things to you." she softly cried. He stood from his chair and walked quickly over to take her in his arms. She melted into his embrace, starved for his affections.

"I'm sorry, Shelagh." he hugged her tight. "I ruined everything, I'm so terribly sorry."

"You didn't ruin anything." she insisted. "I never meant to make you feel that way."

"I should have told you. You were blindsided in the interview, I never should have kept that a secret."

Shelagh pulled back to look him in the eye.

"No, Patrick. You shouldn't have felt pressured to tell me, and I should have listened when you tried." she spoke levelly, but her eyes still shone and his heart burst with how much he loved her and how desperately he wished he could wave a magic wand and give her the child she so desperately wanted.

"But we might not get approved now." he murmured, terrified to speak the words a loud that had been rattling in his head for days.

Shelagh's head fell a bit, but she took his hands.

"I know." she sighed. "But I was foolish to put an imaginary child before you. I love you so dearly, and I'm sorry that for a time, I felt as though that wouldn't be enough." The words burned her mouth as she spoke them, but she knew she needed to. He needed her to. They both knew that was a large part of why he was so hurt, but neither wanted to admit it. "You and Timothy will always be more than enough, Patrick. The two of you are everything to me." she promised.

He leaned down and truly kissed her for the first time in days and she felt the weight of the world lift off her exhausted heart.

"Back to the flat?" he suggested with a shy smile. She gratefully took his hand and they left his office behind. Talking would come over the next few days, for now, they just needed to go home.

40 down, 10 to go! We enter the last 5th...hope you enjoy!