walkerbaby (walkerbaby) wrote in 1973flashfic,

Fic: Comforting Ruth by Walkerbaby Green Cortina

Title - Comforting Ruth 
Rating - Green Cortina (some adult themes)
Disclaimer - Not mine it belongs to BBC and Kudos
Author's notes - for the 1973flashfic comfort challenge. Works from an idea suggested in mikes_grrrl's fic 2) Suggests that maybe 2006 Sam wasn't the best of boyfriends to Maya. 

You sit staring at the bed. He doesn’t move. He twitches occasionally but you realized a long time ago he wasn’t going to open his eyes and smile at you anymore. Not that he smiled that much in those last few months anyway.

"So," she tries to sound pleasant. "You’ve found someone else. Tell me about him."

"Oh, um. Well."

"I’m happy for you," she encourages. "Sam would be too. He’d want you to move on with your life. Be happy. He liked when you were happy."

"He always made me happy," you lie and don’t feel bad for it. He isn’t going to wake up and tell her that it’s not true after all. That toward the end he didn’t care in the slightest if you were happy, didn’t care that you wanted more than he was willing to give. Wanted a life that he confessed once ‘scared him shitless’.

"Good," she smiles. "So this new fellow, he must be really understanding that you’re here so much."

"He is," you smile. "I explained everything when we met. Sort of how we started talking. We met downstairs in the coffee shop."

"Was he here to see another patient?"

"No," you shake your head. "He’s one of the Doctors. Not one of Sam’s doctors, um, a pediatrician in A&E. Surgeon. We’re getting really serious." You don’t know why you blurt it out but you do. You haven’t told anyone yet that you’re moving in with him this weekend - not even your mother. You’d have never told Sam once the two of you had split about another man, you’re sure of that. So you don’t know why you tell Ruth but for some reason you do. It’s the same reason you keep coming back here to sit with her every night after work. You don’t come to sit with Sam, you used to but now you come for Ruth. It’s comforting, even though you keep telling everyone else that you’re there to comfort her.

"So," she reaches out to pat Sam’s hand absently. "That’s good. I guess that means you aren’t interested in my proposal from earlier then."

"Actually," you blush. "That’s what made us decide to get serious. Stable household and the like."

"Stable household?"

"Well it will be Sam’s of course," you assure her. "Same last name, Sam Jr. if it’s a boy, Samantha if it’s a girl. And we’re going to want you to be a huge part of their life. Not just this one, the siblings as well. Grandmother to all of them if you like."

"You still want to do it?" Ruth clarifies. "But what about Sam?"

"If, when," you correct. "Sam wakes up he can be as much or as little a part of the child’s life as he wants. No pressure, no strings but no barriers to him either."

"Good," she smiles and you feel yourself smiling in response.

"Good. I’ll arrange an appointment tomorrow then shall I?"

"Yes," she nods. "That would be nice. Thank you."

You reach out idly for Sam’s other hand. Wish you could tell her not to thank you without it sounding trite. The truth is - you want this baby as much as she does. As much as the others that she doesn’t know about. The ones Sam hadn’t wanted and gotten angry and sullen about until you agreed with the decision he kept saying was your’s to make but that he’d really already made for you. You want to be a mother as much as she wants to be a grandmother and that’s why before the accident you were leaving Sam behind. None of that matters now that he’s left you behind instead. She wants to be a grandmother, you want to be a mother, nobody knows and nobody cares that Sam never wanted to be a father. He’d hate the idea but that’s not important. What is important is comforting Ruth.

Tags: comfort challenge
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.