A/N: My timing is absolutely atrocious, given that it's nearly Christmas and I don't think we'll exactly be in for an A/B fluff fest in this year's CS *sigh* Still, I hope you're all able to read this without crying too much, and I'm really sorry it's not very festive (my DA era writing is rather clogged at the moment, so I couldn't even offer anything in the way of that for Christmas fic, sorry).

John's heart was beating sickeningly in his chest as he ran across the road, his legs burning as friction seemed to be pulling against him. Everything was moving in slow motion, moving against him as he tried to get there quicker.

All he was able to hear, aside from the wheezing breaths emerging from his throat, was the loud thud resounding over and over and over. It made his blood turn to ice in his veins. All he could see were the beautiful features of her face, the blue of her eyes piercing through him, her smile that melted his heart, before she disappeared from sight, quicker than he could comprehend.

He needed to see her, more than he needed air to breathe, and yet he was arrested with a fear that coursed through his whole body. Glimpsing her lying there from so far away had been hard enough to bear; even the thought had shattered him.

His eyes closed of their own accord for a few moments, his breathing hard against his ears.

A voice came to overpower his cowardice, making him ashamed and devastated.

She needs you.

She needed him more than ever.

He gazed down at the ground, not making even the smallest sound when he saw her laid out before him. She looked untouched, her eyes resting shut, long lashes stilled against the curve of her cheek. She looked just the same as she had done not so long ago, sleeping in his bed, warm and safe and happy in her dreaming. She looked like she did hours ago, minutes even, holding herself inches from him, waiting to be kissed.

John leant down, a palm bracing the hard tarmac, a sudden sharp pain shooting up from his knee that he was barely aware of. Now he found that he couldn't look away even if he tried, his eyes roaming her and desperate for a sign of any kind.

She seemed far too still, her chest barely rising and falling at all. With each tiny movement, it was as though the last of life was being snatched from her.

Tears filled his eyes as he shuffled closer to her side, his hand hovering helpless and lost above her body.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, the other voice echoed in his head.

"Anna," he mouthed her name silently, scared to startle her, looking into her pale and closed face. It was so strange not to be gazing into the depths of her eyes. He wished harder than he had for anything that they would open to meet him, in the next second or maybe the one after that. Her hair was tangled around her face and on the road; he wanted to fix it for her, brush it gently back into the right place.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

It took him minutes to be aware of the feverish muttering at his back, the utterances less shocked and horrified and instead appearing to express self-concern most of all.

John half-turned from Anna, anxious every second that he wasn't watching her. The man, a few years younger than himself, was jittery, restlessly moving his hand over his head. He wouldn't look down, his look apparently cold and removed despite his jumpy demeanour, and John was aware of an acute rage swelling in his guts even looking at this individual. He felt the urge to grab him by the scruff of his neck and force him to confront what he had done. Yet at the same time he didn't want him to dare look at Anna, not even for a second.

He noticed the stranger's glare eventually meeting her, and it took all John had not to jump up and slam him against the bonnet of the car.

"I didn't even see her…she just came out of nowhere."

He couldn't bear to hear the snivelling; it was a bare-faced lie, he had seen for himself how long Anna had waited before she took her first few steps out into the road. She had been waiting because she had been looking over at him.

John shut out the noise and the movement behind him, moving back around to focus entirely on Anna once more. Her lips still had a pink tinge but he noticed that her cheeks were almost white. One of her arms was awkwardly twisted over the tarmac beneath her, her hand just up in the air slightly as if she were reaching out for him. He wanted more than anything to take it, grasp onto her for his own comfort as much as hers, but the logical side of him that was somehow still remaining amongst the chaos knew he might do more harm than good.

More people had started to come out into the street; he could tell from the gasps and gabbling chatter he could hear behind him. He shut his eyes tight and swallowed the lump in his throat for it only to be replaced with another one, a burning stab needling the left side of his chest.

"Anna, love, it's okay," he whispered at first, his voice becoming louder the longer he looked at her. "I'm here with you, love. I'm not going to leave. It'll be fine, I promise you."

And if it hadn't have been for him telling her to stay for those few moments more, there wouldn't have been anything to promise. If he hadn't picked up that book and come out at that very time, this wouldn't have happened. He had distracted her, made her less aware in that moment. It was as good as his fault that she was lying there now, so still, so far away.

If he would have had the power he would have turned back time in an instant, sacrificed anything, including himself.

His head barely brushed against her side as he went nearer to her, on his hands and knees, willing for it all to go away as naively as a child would do, hoping and praying that everything would be as fine as he had pledged it would be.

Sirens sounded in the distance and then they were there, though merely an echo in his mind. A hand on his shoulder moved him up, kept him back as they lifted Anna onto the awaiting stretcher. He watched carefully the way they handled her, holding his hands out hopelessly, feeling himself drained of purpose.

"Can I go with her? Please."

He knew he was pleading but he didn't care, a desperate look fixed on the paramedic while Anna was bundled into the back of the ambulance. Being held back from her was torture, he could feel his heart cracking in his chest.

As he gave the nod, John grasped onto the paramedic's hand with both of his, making him stumble back a little.

Faces stared back at him in pity and concern before the doors were closed behind them. Amongst the crowd he could see no sign of the culprit, even at the furthest point of the street. The light was shut out suddenly and he took in a shuddering breath, sitting at her feet while everything began to work around them, the attempts to bring her back completely already underway.

There would be no choice, he wouldn't consider it. It had to be better. She had to be safe. He would never forgive himself if anything became otherwise.

There had been some calm, which was quickly replaced when they got through the doors of the A&E entrance to the hospital. The wheels of the makeshift trolley that carried Anna clattered through corridors as the rush picked up, hospital staff frantically yelling commands he couldn't understand. All the while John ran alongside, his eyes never leaving her, hoping beyond hope that she would wake up yet.

He kept pace until he was told he could go no further. At least they were polite and understanding about it, but no amount of courtesy and gentle words could stop the panic that gripped him. She required immediate attention, the doctors were already waiting to assess her situation. The young nurse tried her best to wear a blank expression but John saw the trouble that was underneath. She must have barely been out of medical school, there was little wonder she couldn't quite separate her emotions as yet. His stomach fell to his feet and his head began to reel considering all the possibilities. She was in good hands, was all he kept telling himself, perhaps misguidedly. He stared at the heavy doors ahead and felt the steel shoot through his bones, feeling as if he'd had a sentence passed down to him.

"Is there anyone we can call?" the young nurse was saying, her eyes warm and empathetic.

His mind had gone blank aside from thoughts of Anna. "Umm…her mother, her mother should know what's…" He couldn't bear to call himself; he could hardly begin to imagine how Susan would react.

The nurse seemed sad when he looked up again, giving a small shake of her head.

"Of course, we can do that, but I was thinking for you."

Oh god, was she trying to say something? That he would need the support, as things weren't looking favourable? Nothing made any sense right now, and he put the wilder side of speculation racing in his mind down to that fact.

"Errr, Robert," he stumbled, offering his phone towards the nurse blindly. "Robert Crawley."

She gave a nod and the smallest hint of a smile before she turned away, leaving him alone in the corridor.

With a heavy sigh, John rested his head against the wall before turning and placing it into his hands instead. He was unable to recall the last time he had found himself in A&E, probably when he had done something in a drunken stupor, whole lifetimes away now. He remembered telling Anna not that long ago about the time he had sliced his hand open while trying to impress a date, and ended up panicking thinking he was going to lose pints of blood while Robert carted him to hospital, crying and whining like a big girl's blouse. She had laughed at first at the thought of his histrionics and then cooed, hugging her arms around him where they lay in bed, opening up his palm to place a kiss on the faint scar that was still visible there. He had shivered at the feel of her soft lips trailing across his skin, sending thanks to every force in the universe that he had found her despite everything.

The unmistakable, almost indescribable hospital scent hung heavy in the air, felt as though it was choking him. Dark thoughts circled his head the longer he was left; it seemed to be taking far too long for a simple assessment. He was on the verge of bursting through those doors more than once, needing to know what was wrong. He wanted – needed – to know she was being taken care of. He had to know everything, and yet he was too fearful of what the truth of the matter would be.

He was about to take a charge up once more, when an older woman emerged from the doors, a board held to her chest. Though he wasn't able to process much past his worries and desperate thoughts of Anna, he noticed the name badge that read 'Nurse Isobel Crawley' from the corner of his eye.

"Mr Bates?"

"John, please," he responded, and she gave a small nod, her demeanour much calmer than that of the younger nurse had been. Still, it did little to soothe him, and he grew more frantic the longer she remained silent. "How is she?"

"Do you know her well?" she enquired, what he supposed was only a routine question. It made him panic, wondering how much they would inform someone who wasn't her next of kin or a member of her family of, and he was damned if he was going to be left in the dark.

"I'm her…well, we'll be married soon enough."

Sweet as they should have been, the words sent a shard through his heart. This shouldn't have been the way he had uttered them, and part of him felt even guiltier for having to lie, to use the privilege that wasn't even his this way. He just hoped to God he still had the chance to make her his fiancée.

Nurse Crawley gave another nod, taking a glance down at the board she was holding and then shifting it in her hands as she looked him in the eyes again.

"The car seems to have hit Anna with considerable impact. To look at she appears rather unharmed, but appearances are sadly often deceiving," she explained, a small sorrow washing over her expression as she spoke. "One of her ankles is badly damaged from where she fell in the road. And she has suffered major internal injuries."

She stopped to take a long breath in and John's eyes were dancing with worry, convinced that wasn't the worst of it.

"I'm afraid that Anna has lost her baby."

The news hit him like a thousand ton weight falling upon his shoulders. He might have had a feeling these past few weeks that something was different, but hearing it like this ripped through him. How he could instantly grieve for something he was never even certain he had had in the first place seemed incomprehensible, but like a natural process. The sorrow overwhelmed him so much that he couldn't find the words to speak, and he had to be sure now that Anna would make it through. He knew that he would break into pieces, irretrievable to the world if any further turns were taken.

Somewhere, he was aware of the senior nurse eyeing him with a certain compassion he had already become accustomed to from her.

"You were aware that she was pregnant?"

John nodded slowly, unable to do anything else.

She offered him a sad half smile. "Then you'll know that there was nothing that could have been done, not at such an early stage. I am terribly sorry for both your loss."

"Thank you," John replied almost under his breath, working up the conviction to look the nurse in the eyes again. "She will be okay though, won't she? Is there any way you can say…?"

Her expression wasn't that revealing as he searched for an answer, eyes wide.

"We'll be taking her into theatre shortly, there are some things that need to be looked at." She tried her best to make the blow softer, but it was quite obvious what she was referring to. "It's likely that she won't gain full consciousness for some time afterwards. We will have to observe her closely, especially in the next 24 hours."

The words reverberated on the walls; he felt himself needing support once more, bracing his palm flat on the wall next to him.

"I can assure you that Doctor Clarkson is one of our finest surgeons, and his team will make sure Anna is well taken care of. I promise I will let you know as soon as there is word. But please, in the meantime, try to rest. You'll be doing the best for Anna."

John took her wishes as kindly as he could and stood staring after for a moment as the bed was wheeled from the room rapidly in the direction of the operating theatre. He could only catch a small glimpse of her golden hair upon the pillow amidst the bodies that surrounded her and he wasn't sure whether he was thankful for that.

Left alone once more, he wandered aimlessly back and forth, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes until it was almost painful to do so, trying to stop the tears from flowing. Everything had been so wonderful, just hours ago they were blissfully happy with nothing in the world to worry them. It was almost as if it had been a cruel trick, or otherwise he would wake up at any moment, with Anna not on her own in a cold operating theatre, but at his side, perfectly content, smiling up at him as he stole another series of kisses from her. The devil on his shoulder was quick to emerge, telling him that he should have never expected anything different. This was how he would pay for all the terrible mistakes he had made in his life, with the most precious thing he had.

"John!"

He looked up slowly, his fist having near enough sunk into the wall, hearing Mary's calls of his name and her heels clicking over the hard floors as she ran to him. He took her into his arms immediately, biting hard on his lip to prevent himself from weeping into Mary's shoulder. He saw that Matthew and Cora were standing at her back, Cora coming up quickly to place a supportive hand on his arm.

"We came as soon as Papa got the call," Mary explained, her face whitened with worry. "Matthew's mother is a nurse here, we just saw her as we were walking up. She told us that Anna had been taken down to surgery, but nothing else…"

"Yeah," he couldn't control the waver in his voice, finding it hard to remain restrained now that other people were here, looking almost as frightened as he was. "She has some injuries…they're taking a look, they're…"

"You don't need to say anything more," Cora announced firmly, patting his arm repeatedly. "What happened has happened. Now we're here for you, and for Anna. We'll all be praying for her to come through this."

"She's made of tough stuff, tougher than anyone I've ever known," Mary reaffirmed with a smile, which John returned as best he could. He knew Mary wasn't exaggerating for effect or speaking only to make him feel better; he couldn't name another that was braver and more tenacious than Anna. She wouldn't stop fighting now, he was sure, not with all they had to hang onto.

While he stood in the centre of a circle that had been made around him, thinking every second of Anna and what was happening to her right then, Robert burst through the doors nearly out of breath. His reaction was more stoic than that of his daughter's as he reached a hand out to John, but John felt and appreciated the heartfelt support of his oldest friend.

"My dear fellow," he uttered lowly. "I couldn't believe my ears."

"I'm not finding it too easy myself," John managed to reply with a small nervous laugh, before his voice cracked.

Robert frowned; the situation was unlike anything they had both ever come across before. He brought his hand up to pat John on the arm, much the same as Cora had done minutes previously.

"I'm terribly…"

"Don't say you're sorry," John interjected quickly, a catch in his voice showing his true emotion rather than the harshness he had not meant to portray. "Anna won't want that."

The smile slowly formed on Robert's face, and he placed his hand firm on John's shoulder. "That's very true. Now come on, I suppose we're in for a wait yet."

John let himself be guided to sit down in one of the chairs, and sighed. It was one thing to say, but quite another to fulfil, and the voice in his head couldn't seem to stop the thought from recurring.

I'm so sorry, my love.

Anna had been out of theatre for a couple of hours, yet it was too soon for anyone to be allowed to see her. Nurse Crawley had kept to her word and came to see them immediately after, saying that everything had gone well but they would still need to be on alert. It wasn't too unusual, she assured, especially not in a case with such serious trauma. At this moment Anna was stable but critical, with a nurse keeping watch in the room in case anything should go wrong.

Just outside her room, John sat keeping his own faithful vigil, his hands clasped together and his stare straight ahead, trying to keep all his worst fears contained. He hadn't dared to move since she'd been brought back, his body feeling numb. Robert walked over slowly to the seat just by him, clutching a cardboard coffee cup.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? You need to keep your strength up."

John shook his head with a grimace, waving his hand towards Robert in reply. The very thought of food or drink turned his stomach sour, and it already felt bad enough.

In front of them, Mary was pacing, phone clutched to her ear. Robert gave her a signal to end the call, considering where they were, and she reluctantly did as she was told, still grasping onto it tight.

"I've been in touch with Tony Gillingham, I thought he may be able to help being in the force and all. They're already doing enquiries." She wore a determined expression, clearly latching on to the police investigation as her way to take her mind off things. John did admire it of her, but he simply didn't have the inclination to go that way. "That spineless bastard was on a speeding ban. He's been charged for drink driving in the past, God knows if he was doing the same today. He shouldn't have even been on the road."

John's head sunk into his hands as Mary continued to rage, unable to take what she was saying in. Down the corridor, machines bleeped, the sickening sound of a flatline from another room echoing and causing him to feel sick to his stomach.

"To think that he's out there, knowing full well what he's done and running away like a coward…it makes me want to take the law into my own hands," Mary went on, her voice getting sharper and louder with each word spoken. John could feel her dark eyes on him and a shiver ran down his spine. "John, I can't imagine what you must want to do. I wouldn't blame you."

"They'll find him eventually," he sighed, trying to avoid Mary's indignant glare head-on. Of course he wanted justice to be done, but he really couldn't care less about him, whoever he was, right now. Getting angry seemed pointless, it wouldn't make Anna better. She was the only thing that mattered to him, the only one who consumed his mind. Looking up to face Mary, she must have been able to see that. "I care about Anna. That's all."

Her eyes softened to see the wrought sadness in his, and she mouthed her apology.

"We're all feeling it," Robert interjected, standing to go over to his daughter. "Get some air for a bit, Mary. We're not going anywhere soon."

She didn't need another word, her gaze lingering on John's forlorn figure, shrunken in the small chair, before she walked away down the corridor.

"It'll take less time than we all think, you'll see," Robert aimed at John, sitting back down again. "She's as strong and stubborn as an ox. Tomorrow and she'll be sitting up, talking, mark my words. She'll be absolutely fine."

He knew the optimism was only trying to help, but it wouldn't filter through to the blackness that was eating him up, the guilt that was surging through him. He ran a palm over his face, shielding himself for a solemn moment, before turning to Robert. He seemed to take in a gasp of breath when he was confronted with John's haunted eyes.

The words lodged themselves in his throat, the fear that they might be closer to the truth than he'd truly consider overwhelming.

"What if she isn't?" John uttered, the faintest quiver in his voice. His eyes glossed over the more he thought of it, his hand trembling where it lay upon his thigh. "For all the will in the world, we don't know what will happen."

If only he would have known, he would have never let her out of his arms. It couldn't come to be, another blow that would be the cruellest of all.

He was mumbling as his hand covered his mouth to stifle sobs. "We've already lost…"

Robert's gaze was steady but searching, allowing John the time to gather some composure. With tears in his eyes, one or two unable to be restrained, John let out a sigh as he faced his friend once more.

"She was pregnant, Rob. Anna was pregnant." he confided. Was. He was still trying to wrestle with the fact, that something so precious could be taken away in as much as a split second. If there was such thing as a God, who could say whether he would stop there? "She was going to have…and now it's gone, just like that."

He sniffed loudly, the anguish wracking through his chest. It made him lose sight of everything, of himself, for moments and he didn't realise he was weeping openly until a tear splashed onto his trousers. Wiping at his eyes furiously with the tissue that had been offered to him, he gave Robert an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, mate. I don't mean to embarrass you."

"I'm not embarrassed. You know what Mama always says, that embarrassment is the only unproductive emotion." Robert exhaled a sigh, his hand stretched out to rest on John's arm. "I just wish you could have been spared this, both of you."

John managed the tiniest of half-smiles in acknowledgement, a few moments of silence hanging in the air. He stood up suddenly, turning himself to look into the window, glimpsing Anna lying in the bed while the nurse remained at her side, watching the monitor and making notes. He both wished and wanted not to be there in place of the nurse, his heart aching with every beat it took. It struck him, not for the first time, that even if he had been inside instead of out here, he wouldn't have been able to do much good anyway. But that was all the more reason not to leave.

"It's my fault," he said low and plain, his gaze still fixed to the pane. "I should have done something more. I shouldn't have let her…"

"You said it yourself, we don't know what will happen," Robert interjected. "Don't drive yourself mad over what you can't control."

But what if I could…

"Just focus on what will be," Robert's voice continued to sound at his back. "It's all you can do."

And yet they didn't even know what that was, not yet.

"I couldn't save her." That failure would haunt him for the rest of his days, whatever happened. John reached his hand out slowly, placing it gently at the bottom of the window, as close as he could be to her at this moment. "I'm not going to leave her, not now."

Nothing in the world would make him go.

John opened his eyes slowly, aware of nothing else but the stiff ache in his neck and limbs, and the horrible truth of the situation that had not left him even in his dreams. He had barely got any sleep anyway; it had been a long night, and the stress of it had kept him wide awake. During the early hours, the nurse had come rushing out of the room and he had stopped her long enough to know that something was very wrong. Anna had taken a sudden turn for the worse, failing to respond and her heart rate dropping low. He was left in a state of utter despair, looking on as the doctors went through to her and counting every second that went by unfailingly. They managed to stabilise her after some time but it came as a shock to everyone, and the need to be wary increased – not that John's had ever waned.

As the hours ticked by all at once unnoticed and closely observed, he became more and more desperate. Ever since his mother had died and long before that still he had been a man of little faith, but as dusk faded into dawn he found himself praying to any power that would listen, his eyes clasped shut in the hope that it would increase the chances of being heard. He didn't even need to consider for one second that he would have gladly exchanged places and given himself up to whatever fate lay ahead, but he thought of Anna's torment – could hear her endless sobs and screams as she watched over him – and he was heartbroken anew. She had so much goodness within her, she cared for him like nobody else had ever done in his life – how was it fair that this should have happened to her?

The increasing light brought him round and he stretched out, sitting on the hard seat with a groan. This time he took the coffee that Robert offered to him, held just in front of his face. He sipped from the cup while Robert eyed him, his watchful gaze full of concern.

"Go home for a couple of hours or so. You've got to have some decent rest. I'll be here, Mary's on her way. You know we'll let you know if anything happens."

John rubbed his eyes with the base of his palms, taking away the very few remnants of sleep that remained and making himself more alert. He glanced up at Robert, who was wearing a worried frown at his dishevelled state.

"I'm not going anywhere," he reaffirmed hoarsely. "I want to be here when she wakes up." Whenever that will be. He wouldn't even consider the other option. He thought he saw a distant look in Robert's eyes that was hinting at its possibility, and he blinked quickly, refusing to give in.

"Have they given any indication?" Robert asked, shifting on his feet.

John sighed heavily, looking to the clock pinned to the wall. "They're keeping an eye on her. The night set her back a bit, so it's a matter of waiting."

Robert's gaze fell to the floor, and there was little sound aside from their slow sips of coffee and the hospital noises muffled in the distance. John was grateful for the silence; strangely it didn't seem to add to his fear as much.

"I picked up some stuff from yours," Robert said as he pushed the bag with his foot towards John. "I had a feeling you wouldn't take up the offer of going back."

"Thanks, mate," John gave a grateful smile, unzipping one of the pockets. He made a quick check through the contents just for something to do, not paying a great deal of attention, though he was sure that Robert had sorted everything he could need. He looked back up to where Robert was still standing, seeming troubled by something, his hands clasped behind his back.

John's brow furrowed. "Don't keep me in the dark here, Rob. Whatever it is, it can't be any worse."

Robert gave a shrug, his hands unfurling and holding out a sizeable brown envelope.

"This was on the doormat. Maybe I shouldn't have brought it, but I didn't think it should have been a surprise." Taking it into his grasp and noticing the postal mark, John knew instinctively what was inside. "Sorry, I should have left it."

John shook his head slowly. "It's alright. God knows I've been waiting long enough."

His fingers fumbled tearing the envelope, and eventually he pulled out the letter, not surprised by the contents but feeling less happy than he expected to be, considering the situation.

He exhaled slowly, glancing up to Robert and confirming the news. "That's it, then. The divorce is final."

It took a while to sink in. That was it; with one piece of paper, he no longer had any attachments or obligations tying him to a life that he had always regretted. He was a free man, completely free to start his life over, to offer himself up entirely to the one he had given his heart to ever since he had known her. And yet the cruel irony was not lost on him, not as he sat there in that godforsaken place. Waiting again. He couldn't quite believe how bittersweet it was.

Robert had stayed silent observing, sensing the difficulty John was having. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and after letting out a sigh, finally acknowledged.

"I suppose in any other circumstance I would say congratulations."

John gave a weak smile, turning the letter over in his hands and giving it another look over.

"Well, it's just another thing that we'll have to celebrate later," he replied, his voice betraying the raw emotion he felt.

While Robert left him alone to gather his thoughts again, John placed the envelope down on the chair next to him. He ran his hand over it once before clasping both together, resting his chin on his looped hands. Closing his eyes he offered up another silent prayer, though surely the entire world could hear his thoughts.

They had been outside the room for the entirety of the afternoon and as it turned to the evening they remained there still, Mary and Cora in the seats beneath the window, Robert and John standing. Many worried glances had been exchanged amongst them, and they all sought the eyes of the young nurse who had come in and out a few times each time she emerged. She simply gave them small smiles in return, which they reasoned could only be good, but still the lack of forthcoming news about Anna's condition was unsettling. John felt as though he had lived whole decades in the space of a day.

At the moment, Nurse Crawley was in the room with Anna, along with the young nurse who could be seen leaning over and making the regular checks that John had become used to observing. He watched closely, studying every little movement, expression and look that was being shared between the two women, a finger held between his teeth as he bit down on it with more intensity.

Mary's heels clicked against the floor as she stood, anticipating Isobel's arrival out of the room. The young nurse followed her, walking briskly down the corridor, and John followed the action with an anxious gaze.

"Well, I have some good news," Isobel clasped her hands together as they collectively held their breath. "Anna has remained stable without any lapses for enough time now. That's not to say she's completely out of the woods as yet," she offered as a warning, which was quickly overshadowed by the next part of her sentence, "but we think she's up to a visitor. I know you would all like to see her, but I'm afraid there can only be one of you."

John felt Mary's hand upon his back, pushing him forward. He looked over his shoulder at her, managing a small smile in thanks as she nodded at him, her eyes glassy.

"I should warn you that she is still unconscious, so it's best not to expect too much," Isobel said gently to John as they stood just outside the door. "And don't be alarmed by the machines. They're doing their job, but hopefully not for too much longer."

John bobbed his head, bracing himself as Isobel pushed the door open to let him through. It was Anna on the other side; however she was, it wouldn't matter to him. The jittery sensation that was stemming from his stomach and flowing throughout his whole body had nothing to do with fear, just anticipation to see her again; to be with her again.

He was immediately drawn into the centre of the room, gravitating to her side naturally. The equipment surrounding her was all but forgotten about; the only thing his eyes could see was her, her flawless beauty so quiet and serene. He let out the breath he had been holding it seemed for hours as he towered over the bed, taking her in again, his eyes tracing her features. There wasn't a single scratch on her face showing any sign of the accident; she was as perfect as she ever was.

John's gaze didn't leave her while he sank down onto the chair by the bedside. He almost couldn't believe how peaceful she looked; she simply seemed to be resting, held in a dream, completely free of any trouble or care. Her hands rested either side of her, so dainty and perfect, just like every part of her. He cast a longing look at the one nearest to him, wanting so much to circle it into his own to reassure her that he was here, right where he always should have been.

He watched her carefully in her stillness, and he allowed a watery smile to drift onto his face.

"Hello, my darling," he began softly, the crack in his voice fading as he willed it to do so. In this moment he had to be her strength, and he wouldn't let her down again. "It's been a while, I know. I had to stay away from you while the doctors were taking care of you. It was probably for the best not to have me around, fussing and being a pain."

He let out a small laugh that echoed painfully in the silence of the room, the low bleeps emanating from the machine at the other side of her a constant. John glanced up at it momentarily, feeling the tear begin to unravel within his soul. Quickly, he returned his eyes to Anna, doing all he could to block everything else out.

"You're giving us all a fright, love. Mary, Robert, Cora and Matthew have been here almost all of the time, keeping me sane but caring about you most of all. I think I've slept for about half an hour, if that. I know you're going to tell me off for that later."

It was so strange to be talking to her and not hear her sweet voice responding back or see her smile light up her face. He had become so accustomed by knowing both in combination that not having the smallest sign of either sent agonising pain charging straight to his heart. She made no movement, aside from the barely perceptible rise and fall of her chest. There was no way on this earth of knowing whether she could hear or understand what he was saying, but it seemed irrelevant to him. He knew that she could.

Almost in slow motion, he reached a hand up to the pillow she was laying upon, fingers suspended in the air before he stroked her forehead with the most delicate of touches. Relief flooded through him when he discovered how warm she felt, wisps of her soft hair like silk beneath his fingertips.

As he continued to stroke back her hair gently, he couldn't stop his gaze from drifting down her body, the sterile white sheets covering her. His other hand moved upon them, needing to soothe and comfort, but he pulled away before he could reach to touch her stomach. Tears were brimming in his eyes with the thought, ever-present, coming forth again. Still, his eyes were settled there, the place where she had been carrying their child, for such a sweet and short time that would always be remembered.

He leaned in closer, near enough laying his head next to hers on the pillow. An uncontrollable tear slipped from his cheek onto hers; he left it to trail for a moment before he wiped it away with the barest press of his thumb.

"I know," he whispered into her ear, sharing the joy and the sorrow she was not yet aware of with her. He didn't even attempt to quell the flow of tears for a few moments, pressing his nose against her hair.

Wiping his eyes with his fingers, needing to gather himself a little, he then let them move down the bed, curling gently with hers. The softness of her skin was a revelation to him once more, a testament to what a wonderful mother she would make. He smiled through their sadness while he caressed her hand gently.

"I was so happy to hear it, love. I'm still so happy to know that you were going to have our baby. You would have been perfect," he uttered, beaming down at her. It took him only seconds to correct himself. "You will be perfect."

He sighed for a moment considering, a million memories that had already been made flowing through his mind, and every one of them lifting his heart and bringing a smile to his face. They had so many more as yet to make, and he was determined that they would have them all to enjoy together.

"I tell you what, I am so glad I decided to take the train that day."

He remembered how annoyed he had been for the briefest time that morning, the wasted preparation he had made for a meeting that had never come to be. The memory could be seen in his mind as clear as if it was happening again that very moment; him glancing up from where he sat in the packed tube carriage to see her, her breathing quick and her whole being obviously flustered and yet she still possessed such grace and elegance. How he could happen upon the most stunning woman he had ever seen in his life on the Underground, it was still quite amazing to consider.

"I'm glad I plucked up the courage to talk to you, and I'm very glad that you actually paid attention to my ramblings."

His fingers traced over her hand, brushing soft little circles over her skin. A sign of eternity. There had been so many memories lingering for so long, so many things that he regretted, but they all faded with her. He could sense them somewhere looming at his back, waiting to reclaim him from their shadows, and he held onto her a little tighter.

"You once told me that life was short," he breathed out slowly, the terrible relevance of that statement not missed by him. He recalled her saying it to him with so much assurance when they were only just beginning, though he had already been madly in love with her for a while. Knowing she had felt the same had filled him with so much joy, had truly made him feel alive for the first time in so long.

He reached up to stroke her cheek again with the backs of his fingers, not faltering for a moment. "My life only began with you."

And it would only end with her.

The tears began again as his breath shuddered, watching her so intently. Her eyes were still fluttered shut, not closed tight but closed all the same, keeping her from him. He willed every second that the next would be the one that counted, that she would open her eyes and be back with him.

"I'm going to make you so happy," he affirmed with as much confidence as she always had, all the strength that he had taken from her burning within him. "Everything I have, every single thing I do, it'll all be for you. I promise."

His gaze dropped down to the finger on her left hand, still bare. The regret plagued him, and he covered the space with his hand, rubbing over her knuckles softly.

His voice was barely a whisper as it came from his throat, desperately.

"Stay with me, my love. Don't leave me…"

Tears stung his eyes, blurring her face in front of him. Still holding her hand loosely in his, John fell forward in his chair, his face burrowing next to her side. His heavy sobs were stifled against the sheets, yet they could probably still be heard from outside. He was far past caring. His heart was breaking in front of him, already cracking in his chest, to behold her like this, making no response to him. At least he was consoled by the feel of her so close to him again, her warmth offering him comfort like nothing else in the world. Slowly, his shoulders ceased their shuddering, his cries petering out to soft, slightly ragged breathing as his hand covered on top of hers.

The room was near silent apart from the reliable bleeps at the other side of her, keeping track of the time. Whole hours seemed to have stretched out, he wasn't aware anymore. All he knew was that he wasn't going to leave her. It would take a force of nature to remove him from where he was, by her side.

His breathing was steady now, his head nestling a touch closer to her. Yet more long minutes passed by, just the two of them. John had become nearly as still as she was now, his palm stayed resting over hers like it could never be separated.

The movement was so very small and came so suddenly, at first he believed he had simply imagined it. There was nothing for seconds following but then it happened again, a tiny twitch underneath his hand.

At once John moved backwards to take a look with his own eyes, the flame of hope sparking in his heart.

"Anna, love? Can you hear me?"

Again, for a few moments that lasted too long, she stayed completely still just as before. His heart begin to sink, convincing himself that he must have just been hoping too hard. Just as his eyes were about to leave where her hand lay, two of her fingers moved, grasping the covers very lightly but with enough force to show that she was indeed responding.

He was quick to get onto his feet, pure delight becoming his very being.

"Anna! Oh, Anna, my love, you're so clever. That's my girl." He babbled his words, watching her with a huge grin on his face. He knew that she wouldn't give up. There may have been far to go as yet, but she was already starting to pull through, another of her fingers beginning to twitch slowly.

After he whispered words of his love to her, wanting it to be the first thing she heard for certain, he burst out of the room, meeting the waiting eyes with a smile he couldn't contain. Mary was the first to attempt to ask, but his excitement bubbled over before she could speak.

"She's moving her fingers. She's coming round."

Smiles broke out all over as sighs of relief and hugs were shared, the word reaching Nurse Crawley through Matthew. In moments she had rushed through into the room, accompanied by the young nurse who had watched Anna and an older man, who it could only be assumed was Doctor Clarkson. Isobel was kind enough to allow John back into the room while they assessed the quite remarkable turn of events.

The doctor carried out reflexes on Anna, turning to look at Isobel with surprise as she responded to each, albeit much more slowly than normal. The nurse scribbled down notes furiously at the other side of the bed, and right next to her John remained, his body aching intensely with hours of tension but glowing with so much pride as he looked down at her; his beautiful Anna, his miracle. She always had been but now she was proving it, right before his eyes.

His breath caught as he watched her do something he hadn't expected. Very slowly, her eyelids began to flicker, him catching little sparkles of her blue irises here and there. He was the first person she saw, and the relief he felt nearly made him float away.

"Thank God," he said in a whisper, staring lovingly at her face as he stayed by her side. "Thank God, and you."

A/N: I would have never gone the way of the film, it's absolutely unthinkable. A/B forever!

I won't be updating until after New Year, so Merry Christmas everyone - let's try our best to enjoy the CS!