*Mention of miscarriage* 

//timeframe is about 6months prior to Fine. Go.//

Mike was sitting beside you on the hospital bed, holding your hand when you fluttered open your eyes. “There’s those beautiful brown eyes.” Mike kissed your knuckles. His eyes were red and glassy from crying.

“Hi”, you croaked out and gave him a little smile. Grimicing you put your hand on your belly. You closed your eyes for a few seconds until the pain subsided.  “Your forehead. You have stitiches.” Gingerly reaching up you brushed his cheek.

Flashes of the accident went through your mind. You remember Mike yelling your name, seeing the headlights, hearing screeching tires, crunching metal, flashing lights, people asking you so many questions. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He looked into your eyes, searching.

“Sorry? For what? You didn’t do anything wrong”, you struggled to keep the tears at bay. 

 Mike shook his head, “if we would’ve just stayed home, like you wanted…” 

“Michael. This was not your fault.” you weakly squeezed his hand, still groggy from the anesthesia. “He blew through the light. He was drunk.“ Your voice was shaky as you tried to reassure your guilt ridden husband. 

Shaking his head, “if I hadn’t had any wine, I would have been driving not you. The car would have hit my side, not yours.” His hand gently went to your belly. “Our baby…we’ll never get-“ 

You placed your hand on his, “I know, I know.”, you whispered, no longer able to keep it together your tears came unbidden.  He climbed into bed with you and pulled you to his chest. “Its like a bad dream and I can’t wake up”, you confessed between sobs. Mike stroked your hair, feeling your tears wet the front of his shirt, his own falling down his cheeks onto the pillow.   

Once he knew you were asleep, he slipped out of bed and went to the hall to make a few phone calls. He was given a lot of information while you were in surgery. He checked his watch, 2AM. Daniel Thompson would be in the darkest cell in Sing Sing by sunrise. He would make sure of it-  personally if need be. Pulling his phone from his pocket he made the first phone call.