Loss (Liz&Michael) - Request ★

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~NOTES~
Originally, I started this after a weird dream and then I had a request that something goes wrong with Liz's pregnancy. This seemed the best way to tie it all in. I am sorry, this is the hardest thing I've written. It's very emotional, mentally heavy and sad. So there's your trigger warning if you're sensitive to anything too upsetting. However, you can look forward to a more comedic pregnant Liz in the next chapter! Enjoy :)

3rd Person POV
He finds her in the nursery, of course he does. That's been her special spot for the best part of 10 months. She looks the best she has in weeks as she sits in the rocking chair, picking a thread on the monogrammed onesie they had picked out for the day he was born.

The song she had been listening to on repeat the last four weeks was playing from her phone. 'Saturn'. She hummed to the tune, hoping that by doing so she wasn't wishing her voice away.

Liz hadn't noticed Michael standing at the threshold. Obviously, he hadn't said anything as he watched her and Michael even debated going back to their bedroom altogether.

What surprised him the most was the silence. Although they had cried and cried in each other's arms, the silence between them was comfortable and not unhealthy. Somehow, they had made it work.

"I saw him last night."

The soft voice breaks Michael into the present as Liz stares at the onesie in her lap, a small smile on her face.

"You did?" Michael asks, stepping into the nursery.

"Mm hmm. I didn't catch what his first name was, but his middle name was 'George' after my brother." Liz tells him with a faint smile, so much so that unless you were Michael, you'd have to squint so see it.

"That's really sweet." Michael says, offering her a slightly brighter smile at the endearing information she had just shared with him, all be it bittersweet.

Liz just nods, meeting her husbands eyes for a few seconds before looking away again.

"I don't want to get rid of this nursery, Michael." Liz says as tears form in her eyes.

"And we don't have to." Michael soothes, instantly crouched in front of her. "We can leave everything exactly as it is."

"We were so excited. It makes it hurt even more." Liz says shakily.

"I know." Michael says, feeling tears burn in his eyes as he takes Liz's hand.

It was true, they had been ecstatic since they first saw the word spelt out in little bold letters, 'pregnant', on the white stick that Liz clutched tightly in her hand in the middle of their home bathroom. Michael had gone out that night and come home with a paper bag filled with newborn baby clothes in all styles and colors.

For months, they both decorated the nursery together. It was adorned in natural colors and prints, both pink and blue because the two parents to be had insisted the color didn't, and shouldn't, represent which sex their child was. Liz and Michael drove far and wide to find only the most perfect of baby-friendly ornaments and would spend hours organising a plan for the safest spots for the furniture in the nursery. For example, no shelves above the crib, but the crib also couldn't be next to the window.

Everyday they would add to the nursery together until Liz's bump got too big that she would sit in the rocking chair while Michael painted and built furniture.

On the nights Liz couldn't sleep, Michael would sing to her and rub her belly.

On the times Liz needed to stay awake, Michael would go out and pick up a large oat milk decaf coffee from her favourite boutique. He wouldn't tell her it was caffeine free but it worked to keep her eyes open every time.

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