Disappeared

"For once in your life be honest with me, what do you want this to say?"

She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know what to think.

She wants to fling her arms around his neck, for him to pick her up and whirl her around right there in the hospital toilets. She wants her ears to be concealed to everything but the idiotic, frivolous laugh escaping his lips and for him to wipe away the tears of relief that spill from her eyes so unexpectedly she doesn't have a chance to repress them. She wants him to be happy. No, she wants them to be happy. She wants them to be a unified, amorphous blob of happiness because that's what new life is supposed to do to you. That's how it's supposed to be, isn't it?

He isn't happy. Neither is she, for that matter. The moment he looks up from briefly dropping his gaze to the stick he holds uncomfortably in his hands, she knows. It's positive. She can't tell if she's gotten so skilled at reading his body language or if it's intuition, but she knows. She can see the words beginning to form on his lips but her face is already reflecting the result. He doesn't need to utter them because he knows, she knows.

Positive. Affirmative. Irrefutable. Undeniable.

Jac Naylor is pregnant and she's never been more scared.

The two of them stare at each other, locking eyes for the first time in weeks. Despite the circumstances, she finds herself remembering how happy she felt looking into those eyes. She misses him and suddenly has the overwhelming urge to touch him. She wants to feel his skin against hers and for him to whisper that everything is going to be ok. That they are going to be all right. She wants to kiss him like she did in their early days when his lips symbolised the only tangible, real evidence of their relationship. Before they had this thing to permanently mark their actions. Before, their bodies would move in hurried synchronization as they aimed to seek comfort in one another's presence. However, she doesn't know how to initiate such an exchange, not now, so she simply drops her gaze to prevent her mind envisioning such fabrications . There's a rising sensation in her stomach and she thinks her lunch might be about to reappear. He watches her take a deep breath but doesn't say anything. Neither of them feel they have the right words to fit the situation. The confusion dominating the atmosphere would almost be comical to an onlooker.

He takes a step back and agitatedly folds his arms, his head reeling. Without warning she dashes out of the room and he's left, holding the test, in the middle of the lady's bathroom, staring at the empty space his girlfriend occupied not two seconds earlier. He's actually surprised at how little trace she leaves, anyone walking in now wouldn't know she'd been in here. He knows it's stupid, of course - why should she leave any sign? It's just, she alters his mood so dramatically when she enters a room, it would hard to believe she doesn't leave a dent in the furniture. But then again, she's never been one for leaving a physical mark on anything...unless you include the scars. On auto-pilot he rushes out into the hard, clinical light of the ward and finds himself wondering what the total number of scars she's left on people is - if she even cares.

The normality of the hospital outside of that tiny bathroom is all Jac needs. Everything is exactly the same as when she went in. The machines, the people, the patients (none had died yet, thank God). It takes her a split second to realise it's not the contents of her stomach about to reappear, but tears. She doesn't even know why. Confusion and fear compel her to break into a jog. She doesn't want anyone to see her like this and she knows Jonny won't be far behind with his pity face and then she really will start crying. Even the thought of crying in the middle of the ward sends a flood of humiliation through her veins. Her pride is pulverized already; she doesn't need this on top of everything else.

The hospital is a blur as she runs past person after person, through corridor after corridor until she's gasping for air and forced to halt. She finds herself in the empty theatre, Darwin 2. All is quiet but the buzz of the machines and it seems to calm her down. She needs to think and instantly wishes she hadn't left the test...the evidence with Jonny. Now he has it, she can't process the information - although sharing the news did make it feel slightly more real. Now she really needs the proof because otherwise it feels like a dream. Her eyes drop to her stomach and she attempts to imagine what she's carrying. She can't. Maybe this is a sign she's not supposed to? Maybe he made a mistake? Maybe it won't last long? Knowing her luck she'll have a miscarriage within the week.

No. She focuses her mind on the gentle whir of the heart monitor bleeding through from the recovery room. She shuts the door and slumps down between two crash trolleys, she is completely hidden from view and it is only then, that she allows the damn tears to fall.

A/N: Thank you for reading until the end! I know I'm not the best writer but hopefully I should improve the more I do this, that's how it's supposed to work, right? Reviews would be appreciated, constructive criticism especially.