Falling Slowly

Angel of Death

Idina's Point of View

The nurse comes back in with a small cup of pills and hands it to me. I look warily at the number of pills it contains. There's so many.

"What exactly are all of these for?" I'm not about to take all of these without knowing what they are, no matter how awful I feel.

"There's your prescribed antidepressants, painkillers, some basic vitamins to help you heal better, and your prenatals." I close my eyes, exhausted. Wait....did she say prenatals? No.

"Um...what was the last one again?" My stomach churns. It can't be true.

"Prenatal vitamins. The baby came through everything just fine, and we want to keep it that way." The world seems to crash around me. I try to speak but nothing comes out. I take a breath and try again.

"Baby?" My voice comes out as a barely audible squeak. How could I have been so stupid? I'm not prepared for another kid. I can barely handle myself as it is. Taye has nearly full custody of Walker. I can't do this.

"You're eight weeks pregnant, Ms. Menzel. Did you not know?" I shake my head, shutting my eyes against the rush of tears. Thank God Jenn and James left for food. They don't have to know. Not yet at least. Maybe not ever. Oh God....how do I do this? The nurse gives a small "oh" then quickly finishes her duties and leaves. I reach over to the bedside table and grab the cup of pills, swallowing them dry. Maybe they'll numb everything for a while. Maybe this is all just a dream and I'm really still dead. I'm beginning to think maybe that would be for the better. I work my way to laying on my side, careful of my bandages and the IV tubing. My hand goes over my still flat stomach, not wanting to believe the news. Finally alone, I allow the tears to fall. The pillow becomes wet as I fade into sleep.

James's Point of View

Jenn heads on home after we grab something to eat, but I don't want to leave Idina yet. I ease the door open and my heart breaks. She looks so tiny and vulnerable, curled on her side, tears still flowing in her sleep. I silently make my way to the chair at her bedside and take a seat. I have a feeling I could be here for a while. I wait for the tears to stop, wishing I knew how to help her. I can't believe I came so close to losing her. Never again. It was all my fault. I can't leave her again. I can't believe I did it in the first place. I can be such an asshole. I try to block out the negative thoughts, try to focus on the fact that she's alive, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that death isn't as far away as we'd like it. Asleep, motionless, fragile, damaged...she looks like the perfect angel of death.