AN: 2,518 words. A record :) So, yeah, this is set on the same night as R. Actually, you not being able to read R when you read Q worked in my favour. Gave me more time to perfect this chapter and get it posted before you caught up. I didn't want to leave you hanging too long :)

Scars

Rory paced the hospital waiting room, arms folded over her chest. Oh, the doctors had assured her that the injury was a surface wound, his surgery had gone well and that, yes, he would definitely live. That was good for two reasons. One, she was not losing him again. She outright refused. And two, it meant that she could kill him herself. What the actual bloody hell was he doing, going off like that? It had been decided that that particular ghost was a group job but no! Stephen just had to go and handle it himself. And she knew what he was going to tell her. "I couldn't put you all at risk like that." Yeah? Well you can't put yourself at risk like that. The doctor had said he would come back and get her when her idiot of a husband had been settled and was comfortable. Until then, she would pace until she wore a groove in the floor. She paid no mind to the people coming in with injuries, to the families waiting or to the odd ghost that passed through. None of them were important at the minute. Her hand went to the heart pendant he had given her. She could still hear his voice in her head. "This is my heart. I give you it freely. You can wear it happily, you can hide it where no one will find it, you can break it if that is your wish. But know this; it is yours to do with as you will and it will never belong to another. My heart has always been and will always be yours."

"Mrs. Dene?"

She turned quickly to the doctor, her hand still clasped around the heart. "Yes?"

"He's comfortable. You and go and see him now. He's under sedation at the moment but you are welcome to sit with him."

"And he'll definitely be alright?"

"Absolutely. It appears he must've dove out of the way just in time. Instead of it being a serious injury, it's a surface wound. We've stitched it and he should be out in a couple of days."

She exhaled heavily, releasing the heart and allowing it to fall over her own once more. "Thank god."

"If you'd care to follow me, Mrs. Dene."

The doctor led her to Stephens room where he lay sleeping. She quietly thanked the doctor and was left alone with him. She swallowed hard as she looked at him in the bed. She walked over to him slowly, focussing her attention on the steady movement of his chest. The last time she had seen him in a hospital, he had a fractured leg. That wasn't serious. This could've been worse. He could easily have died. Again. And then she thought of the morning he had died. She could almost hear the machine flatlining as he had slipped away. Yep. That would just about do it. Flood gate open.

The sobs she had been holding back escaped her loudly and she crumpled to the ground, hand over her mouth. She heaved as she struggled to breath through her tears and each time she thought she was calming, fresh sobs would start. She put both hands over her face and wept into them, her whole body shaking. She screamed into her hands, not frightened or frustrated screams, but the kind of screams you make when you're breaking down. Screams of grief. And yet, he was fine. He would live. He would come home. He would recover. It would only take two or three weeks and everything would be normal again. But seeing him in that hospital bed, knowing he nearly died, that was enough to send Rory over the edge. It was just too much.

She had no idea how much time had passed but she could faintly hear the doctor telling someone that "he's just down this corridor. Mrs. Dene is already there." She barely acknowledged the door to the room opening and the two people who entered. Nor did she register the two strong pairs of arms that gently lifted her from the ground, one on each side, and sat her down on the seat next to Stephens bed with soothing whispers. She was aware of a tissue being softly placed in her hand and she accepted it without realising that she had and dried her eyes with it. When her vision cleared, she saw Callum and Thorpe watching her carefully. She gasped in the air around her, choking on her sobs. She gestured to the tissue she held and spoke to the unknown man who had handed it to her. "Thank..thank you."

"You're welcome." Thorpe replied softly. So it had been Thorpe who had given it to her. She nodded at him as Callum sat on the arm of the chair and put a strong reassuring arm over her shoulders. "It's alright love. He's gonna be fine. We've just spoken to the doctor."

She sniffed hard. "I know. It's just...it's just..." She wept again.

Callum rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know Ror. I know. It's alright. Shhh it's alright."

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna kill him."

Callum sighed a small laugh. "Join the queue."

She sobbed out a laugh and leant into Callum. He gave the top of her head a kiss. "We might have to wait until he's better though, sis. No point killing him when he's drugged to the eyeballs. He won't feel it."

She started giggling properly now. "Thanks Callum."

"For what?"

"Cheering me up."

"Yeah, no problem Ror."

Thorpe stood and walked to the door. "I have to go back to Thames House and report this. Callum, could you phone Boo and Freddie and let them know?"

"Sure."

With one final nod and small smile to Rory, Thorpe left the room. Callum sat by her for a few minutes more until she had completely calmed. He too watched Stephen as he slept, the memories of his death playing in his mind. He had watched his best friend die and had blamed Rory. He felt awful about that now. As he thought about the way he screamed at her, he gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze. He spoke softly, not wanting to break the calm that had descended on the room. "I have to go phone the girls. Will you be ok?"

She nodded lightly. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

She smiled up at him softly, patting the hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. You go phone them. I'll be ok."

"Ok. I don't know how long I'll be. If he wakes up, hit him for me."

She laughed weakly. "Sure."

"Right then." He rubbed her arm once more and quietly left the room leaving Rory alone with her sleeping husband. She stood from her seat and circuited the room slowly. She focussed her attention on anything and everything. She focussed on the colour of the curtains; the same shade of blue as Stephens hospital gown. She focussed on the chairs; there were three in the room. She focussed on the people in the corridor outside; nurses, patients, ghosts. And then she focussed on the small, groggy voice coming from the bed. "Rory?"

She turned around slowly. His eyes were still closed. "Rory?" He didn't say it like he knew she was there. He was asking for her, wondering where she was. Her lip quivered as his eyes flickered open and he scanned the room. He looked so helpless and a little bit scared. She began to walk over to him, her footsteps quiet on the floor. He turned his head toward her slowly and a look of relief swept over him as she got closer. "Rory."

"Yeah..." Her voice was barely audible as she sat on the seat closest and pulled it closer still. "Yeah, I'm here." She lifted up his glasses from the bedside table and gently put them on him so that he could see her properly before taking his hand in hers.

He smiled, his eyes adjusting to the change in vision. He could see her clearly again. "You're the most beautiful person in the world."

She sniffed. "You're drugged."

"Doesn't make it any less true." He looked at her for a moment, raising his hand from the bed and touching her cheek. "You're really here...," he said in wonderment.

"Of course I am. Where else would I be?" She placed her hand over his.

"I thought I'd never see you again. I thought I was going to die."

She sniffed again and shut her eyes, the tears in them falling as she did. She spoke through the sobs that threatened to escape. "No... But you nearly did. You little shit..." She sobbed before weeping again. He tried to wipe away the tears with his thumb but she pulled away from him and stood up. She stalked across the room, violently wiping the tears away. She wheeled around to face him. She could hardly find her voice. "How could you? How could you do that to me? You knew it was dangerous and you went on your own. Do you have any idea what I would've done if you'd been killed?" The end of her sentence came out as sobs as she collapsed into one of the seats at the back of the room. She put her hands over her face and cried into them again, her whole body heaving. Stephen watched silently, a tear slipping down his own face. He wiped it away and sniffed before slowly raising himself up the bed. He winced quietly as he did so but once he rearranged his pillows, he lay back against them, sitting up in the bed. Rory was still sobbing at the other end of the room.

His voice was soft and still groggy. The drugs were making him tired but he needed her now and she needed him. "Rory?" She ignored him as she cried. "Rory, sweetheart, please." He held out his hand to her.

She raised her head to look at him, surprised to see him sitting up. When had he moved? He looked at her hopelessly, fearfully and sadly. The arm he had outstretched was a plea, begging her to take his hand. She stood silently and walked back over to the bed and put her hand in his. He closed his fingers around her hand and gently pulled her closer. She sat back on the bedside seat. She laced his fingers through hers. He spoke shyly, afraid of upsetting her any more. The tears welled up in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry...I really am. I just...I just didn't want you to get hurt. I just...I have failed you so many times and I couldn't fail you again. I'm supposed to protect you. That's always been my...charge. And there have been so many times when I've let you down. I was supposed to protect you from the Ripper and you got hurt. I was supposed to protect you from people who would use your powers for bad and I couldn't. And I'm supposed to keep you safe from harm as your husband. I failed as your protector and your guardian and I can accept that, but...I can't...I can't fail you as...as your husband. I can't let you down again. I could never forgive myself." He sniffed hard as a tear fell down each of his cheeks, and he shut his eyes, squeezing her hand in his.

She watched him, biting her lip to keep from crying and moved from the seat onto the edge of the bed so that she was as close as she could be. As he wept gently, almost silently, she placed a finger under his chin and slowly lifted his head. "Stephen," she whispered. "Look at me."

He opened his eyes and gazed at her, his eyes glistening. She spoke slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. She kept her finger under his chin. "Listen to me carefully. You have never failed me. You never will. You have given me your love, your trust, your life and I have given you mine. You have never failed me as a friend, as a partner or as a protector. Since I got my sight, you have been the person who has kept me sane, the person I was always relieved to see when things got too difficult to cope with and the person that I absolutely could not let go of. I have always trusted you and I always will. With everything you have ever done for me and everything that you will no doubt do, how could you possibly fail me as my husband?"

Before he could reply, she leant into him, placing her lips on his. The kiss was soft and slow, both of them grateful that it could happen. Stephen sobbed into the kiss before placing his hands on her face, holding her close to him. Then he kissed her desperately, unable to believe that he was here and he was safe and he was kissing her. When they broke the kiss, he leant his forehead on hers, dropping his hands to hold hers. His voice was cracked, broken. "I never thought I'd kiss you again." He gasped out the last of his sobs quietly while Rory soothed him. "When I was lying there," he said when he had calmed. "And I thought I was going to die, I thought of you. I wanted my last thought to be of you. And then I thought about what my death would do to you so I fought. I didn't want to let go of my life because...my life is you."

She smiled at him. "And mine is yours. Which is why I need you to promise me something."

"Anything, my love."

"From now on...everything we face, we face together. Promise me you'll never put yourself in danger again. I know you have a terrible disregard for your own life but your life is mine now. We're linked, you and I. Forever. So please, look after yourself, look after me and let me look after you."

He nodded at her. "I promise, sweetheart. You and me, together."

They sat there like that, foreheads against each other's, both of them quietly thanking anything and everything that existed above them that he was alive. After a moment, she pulled back so she could look at him properly. She smiled at him and he smiled back. "So," he said. "What's the damage?"

"Fortunately small. It was a surface wound. Your stitches will heal in two or three weeks. You can come home in a couple of days. You literally have more lives than a cat."

He chuckled. "Well, I guess we'll both have scars."

"We're both used to living with scars. I've been living with mine since I got my sight. You've been living with yours since Regina died. We've both been broken."

"And we've both been fixed."

"There's nothing we can't fix...together."

"Together," he agreed. "Y'know," he said after a minute more. "You really are the most beautiful person in the world."