Title: We'll Get Through it Together
Fandom: Spooks
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Ruth
Rating: 15/T
Warnings: None
Summary: When Ruth faces a major challenge in her life, Harry offers her his support and their friendship begins to blossom into something more. H/R. Set somewhere after 5.4.
Disclaimer: I don't own Spooks or any of the characters you may recognise. They all belong to Kudos/BBC.
A/N: I was reluctant to write this as I know that it is definitely something that would never have happened on the show, but the idea would not leave me alone until it was down on paper. In the end I decided what the heck, that's what fanfiction is for, right?
So all you really need to know is that in this story Cotterdam and the related events of 5.5 never happened, but Harry has already been knighted. Everything else will be explained on the way.
Chapter
Friday 1st December 2006
He paces the corridor for what must be the hundredth time in ten minutes. Where the hell was that doctor? A check of his watch told him it had been almost an hour since they'd rushed Ruth off and instructed him to stay here. He'd flicked through every magazine on the table, but he hadn't taken anything in. Not that he cared much about the latest goings on in the celebrity world; he'd simply been looking for a distraction. It hadn't worked. His mind was working overtime worrying about Ruth. The plastic chairs hadn't helped him settle either; not the most comfortable of seats.
He had been sat in his office when it happened; on the phone with the Director General.
***flashback***
The old fool had been wittering on about something to do with a state dinner that he wanted Harry to attend, but Harry hadn't been listening. He didn't do state dinners; standing around making idle chit-chat with a bunch of toffee-nosed politicians was not his thing; not his thing at all. As soon as the DG had started on about it, Harry took the opportunity for a quick covert sweep of the Grid. Everything seemed to be running normally, well as normally as it could for their department. Ros was talking animatedly to someone on the phone, Malcolm was typing away profusely, and Adam, Jo and Zaf were planning the next stage of their current operation, but it was on Ruth's desk that his gaze faltered; she didn't look well. She hadn't all morning; she'd been pale when she arrived…late. Ruth Evershed was never late, well except on her first day. Harry had watched as she grew paler and paler by the hour and had had enough. In fact, he had been about to go over to her and suggest no, insist that she go home when the DG's call had come through.
He watched as she pulled something from the printer and stood up shakily, gripping her desk to steady herself. It was only for a couple of seconds, but he noticed and it was enough reason for him not to take his eyes off her as she walked towards his office. When it happened, he'd seen it all in slow motion. The piece of paper she was carrying had slipped from her fingers and her eyes fluttered closed. He was on his feet and at his door, with no regard for the DG on the other end of the phone, seconds before she collapsed but couldn't reach her in time. He'd heard her head hit the floor with a sickening crack and he was at her side seconds later. The rest of the team following closely behind.
"Ruth!" he'd cried, kneeling down at her side, shaking her shoulder slightly. No response. "Ruth!"
"I'll get the duty doctor," Malcolm had asserted.
"You'll have a job; he's on a course," Adam had pointed out.
"I'll call an ambulance instead then."
Harry shook Ruth's shoulder again, trying his best to ignore the blood seeping from her head wound.
"Mmmm," she'd murmured quietly, her eyes blinking open. She'd tried to sit up, conscious of all the eyes on her, but Harry held her there.
"Stay still," he'd whispered. "You need to go to the hospital."
"I'll be fine," she'd protested.
"If the fact that you've just collapsed outside my office wasn't enough, that head wound is. It needs stitches."
"Ambulance will be here in 10 minutes," Malcolm had called from his desk.
"No," Ruth had croaked as she pushed Harry's hand away and sat up. "No ambulance." Harry began to argue but Ruth silenced him with a wave of her hand. "I'll go...to hospital...but no...ambulance." Harry had made a decision in that moment.
"Right. I'll take you." Ruth had been about to protest again, but Harry's mind was made up. "It's either me or the ambulance." Ruth sighed, resigned. "Malcolm, cancel that ambulance. Zaf, get my driver to meet us downstairs. Adam, the DG probably isn't too happy about me leaving him hanging on the phone. Could you…?"
"Leave it with me," Adam had assured, rushing off to placate the Director General.
Harry's driver had them at the hospital within 15 minutes, breaking several traffic laws to do so, on his instruction. Ruth had been shaking all the way there and nearly keeled over again when they exited the car outside the hospital's entrance. Thankfully, the Accident and Emergency Department was quiet at that time of day; no drunken idiots clogging up the system. The triage nurse had taken one look at Ruth and had ushered her straight into a cubicle. Harry had tried to follow but had been told in no uncertain terms to remain where he was. He'd watched them wheel her away, his heart breaking with worry. Wanting nothing more than to tell her that he…
"Mr Pearce..." a voice breaks him from his reverie; it's the nurse from earlier.
"Sir Harry, actually," he corrects. He doesn't normally like to flaunt his knighthood, but there are occasions, such as this, that it serves a purpose. The nurse looks a little taken aback; probably worrying about her brusque manner with him earlier.
"Oh, right. I'm sorry. Er...Miss Evershed...she's asking to see you."
"How is she?" Harry asks, concern in his voice.
"She's doing well."
"Do you know what caused her to collapse?"
"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information. Patient confidentiality. It's best you speak to Miss Evershed. If you'd like to follow me." The nurse leads him through a set of double doors to the first cubicle on the left. "We'll be admitting her for observation. Just for a couple of days."
"Are you worried this may happen again?"
"It's just routine, Mr-, I mean Sir Harry. Don't worry," she assures, opening the curtain.
"I am here you know," Ruth chides with a small smile which Harry returns apologetically.
"Sorry."
"I'll leave you two alone," the nurse says, backing quietly out of the cubicle. Harry doesn't hear her, his attention is completely focused on Ruth. Quickly assessing the situation he can see that she's been crying; her eyes are puffy and there are faint black streaks on her face where her mascara has run. He wonders what the doctors have told her is wrong. If it's serious?
"How are you feeling?" he asks.
"Better. The drip is helping." She lifts her left hand, indicating the cannula.
"What happened?"
"I don't really know. I remember I was on my way to your office and I was feeling queasy, I had been for most of the day. Then I went dizzy and the next thing I know I'm coming round on the floor, the whole team around me."
"Have they an idea what caused it?"
"Low blood sugar," she replies. "I...I've been feeling off for a couple of days and haven't really been eating." She lowers her head, ashamed.
"Ruth!" he scolds lightly. She smiles up at him but he notices it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "There's something else," he deduces. It's a statement, not a question.
"I...I'm fine."
Harry leans in, lowering his voice. "Come on Ruth, I'm a spook for heaven's sake. And I've known you far too long. I know when you're lying."
"I'm not lying," she protests vehemently.
"What aren't you telling me then?"
"I...," she begins but trails off. "I...can't." Harry is worried now; scared about what her diagnosis may be. He reaches over and takes her hand in his. He is hesitant, not knowing what kind of a reaction he will get. Things between them have been easing slightly over the last couple of months; the tension caused by her rejection of a second date falling away and their relationship almost back to the way it was. He doesn't want to push her too much but he needs to have some sort of physical contact with her if it's going to be bad news.
"Come on Ruth, it can't be that bad. Whatever they've said, we'll get through it together. You and me."
Ruth doesn't shirk away from his touch or push him away, instead she merely whispers, "I'm not sure you'll be saying that when you find out."
"Try me," he challenges, his hand never leaving hers. Ruth looks down, unable to meet his gaze as she tries to find the words to tell him her news.
"Harry. I...I'm pregnant."
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