A/N Deals with miscarriage and stillbirth. Please skip if this is triggering to you

It was the morning now, the morning after that disastrous day. The morning after everything they had dreamed for was shot down in a blaze. The morning was sad, and everyone was extremely quiet. They would remain quiet for a long while, in fear of having one of them snap.

It took only a matter of seconds for Danny to remember what happened. He had been shot (that bullet came out of nowhere), which caused Linda to stress out and go into an early labor. The labor was far too early; the baby didn't make it. He hadn't even been able to see it, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to. He knew that sounded awful- the baby was his daughter, after all, but he... If he saw it, he'd be of no use to Linda during this time. He was grief-stricken, of course he was, but Linda... He needed to be... alert... because he knew what was going to come if this.

Danny groaned as he sat up in bed. He knew he would be discharged today or tomorrow- most likely tomorrow. He walked around the room with that stupid IV pole and started to get dressed. Once dressed- yes, it was painful and yes, he sort of looked insane- he ripped out his IV and headed towards Linda.

A nurse stopped him halfway there, "and where do you think you're going?"

"To see my wife. Up in maternity." He pressed the up arrow on the elevator.

"You should be in bed."

"I need to be with my wife," he told her, continuing to ignore her. She must be new, he thought, since she wasn't practically dragging him back to bed.

She was about to say more when the elevator dinged and he stepped on. It took him a minute to remember what floor he wanted to go to.

His heart shattered when he saw his wife. She was sitting up in the bed, eyes trained ahead. He could tell her eyes weren't focused, and the blank look on her face added to the creepiness of it all. She was pale and ghost-like, sitting still but taking huge, deep, exaggerated breaths. Her hair was still messy from giving birth. She looked like all life had been dragged out of her, after she fought and screamed for it to stay within her.

And in a dark, twisted way, life had been ripped out of her.

Danny walked up to the bed, debating on getting in or altering her of his presence. "Linda?"

She turned her head towards him, not saying a single word. The look in her eyes would haunt him for a life time.

He had no idea what to say. What does someone say to a mother who just lost her chance at being a mother?

"I'm so sorry, Linda." That seemed like the least of what he could say. He put his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

Still, she didn't say a word. She just sat there, staring, nothing in focus. She didn't respond when Danny kissed her forehead.

He frowned; she almost always smiled after a kiss to the forehead. Or she would tip her chin up, silently asking for a kiss on the lips. But she didn't do anything; she just sat there, stiff. Cold. Unfeeling.

Danny didn't really know what to do, so he got in bed with her. He would sit with her as long as it took for her to say or do something, anything.

Two days later, they were both home. Two days later, and Linda hadn't even said so much as five words. It was starting to worry Danny. As long as he'd known her, she'd always been vocal about her feelings. She was always able to tell him what was wrong, what war was waging in her heart and soul.

But know she wouldn't even say I love more. They always made sure to tell each other I love you, in case... the unspeakable... happened.

He needed to get her to talk to him, to say something. He didn't care she said- she could call him a back stabbing, two timing jerk if she wanted to. (She never would, because he'd never do that to her). Just so long as there were words.

It was past midnight when he decided she had to talk to him. Neither one of them had been sleeping well. He turned the light on in their room, blinking his eyes into adjustment.

"Linda. Linda, look at me. Linda," Danny couldn't say her name enough. It was as if she would float away or disappear into nothingness if he didn't keep her present.

Her eyes lifted up to his, and his heart broke into a million little pieces. Her once magnificent, electric blue eyes- eyes that were once filled with so much like and happiness- were now tired, lifeless. He might be crazy, but he'd swear her irises lost some of their color.

"I need you to talk to me, okay? You... haven't said a word since..."

"Why?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Why?" He repeated, making sure he heard her correctly.

"Why did it happen? Why did I go into labor like that? Why did she have to—" her voice broke, and Danny was almost relieved she was about to cry. That meant she was finally feeling something.

But no tears came.

"I can't answer those questions, sweetie. Because I don't know."

She only shook her head, her hair still dirty from the hospital. She hadn't had a proper cleaning in days.

Danny looked at the clock- it was almost one in the morning. Linda should be sighing in frustration right now, the anxiety crawling inside of her from being awake too long. He never would quite understand why she got so anxious if she wasn't sleeping by one in the morning.

"I know it's late, Linda, but how about a bath? Maybe it'll relax you enough to sleep."

Her mind blanked; a bath? What's a bath? She felt herself slowly nodding her head.

Danny kissed her cheek, "I'll get it ready. You stay here."

Linda didn't say or do anything as he bathed her, until the washcloth went near her stomach. Her grip on his wrist was like the grip of death.

"Don't."

"Don't...?" Danny questioned, brows furrowed. He thought she was okay with him washing her.

"Don't. Touch it."

He tossed the washcloth to his other hand. He held his hands up, showing her his palms. "Okay, okay. I won't touch. Just... let me get the conditioner out of your hair."

She nodded at that, before painfully turning her back to him.

Even after the bath, none of them slept that night. He was up with shoulder pain and nightmares, and she was up with nightmares and just pain. An unspeakable, unbearable pain that wracked her body and shattered her heart.

It was then that she decided she needed to be punished. She was the one who couldn't give her baby the life she deserved. She was the one who stopped caring for her. She was the one who hurt her little baby girl.

She was the one who killed her.