Mercy In You (Dave Gahan x Alan Wilder)

5. Precious and Fragile Things

Three weeks later, February 3rd 1993, 2:04pm, the shopping centre:

The day had been unprolific. Despite the season, the weather was uniquely warm and the sun sat high within the sky. Having seen an opportunity in the improved climate, Dave and Alan had left their house at a far earlier hour than they normally ever would and travelled to the shopping centre close to two hours from where they resided.
They now sat opposite eachother in a coffee shop within the centre, multiple bags containing their purchases piled beside them.
"That shirt I bought you is gonna look so nice." Dave beamed, holding his beverage in both hands.
"Do you think so?" Alan poured a thin sachet of sugar into his coffee and began to stir it.
"A hundred percent!" His lover replied. "I know that just by taking one look at you."
"Oh, please." He rolled his eyes sarcastically and laughed. "I did actually buy something for you as well, my love."
"Really?"
"Mhm, but it is also for a certain someone else."
"Oh...?"
From one of the bags, he proceeded to pull out a newborn sized onesie of the colour white, and on its front it read: 'Born in 1993'.
"Charlie..."
"It must be good if you've called me that." Alan barely had chance to pass the outfit to Dave before he'd taken it from his grip anyway.
"I love it, oh my God!" Dave came close to squealing.
"I know it's probably a bit early for something like that, but-"
"Don't care; thank you so much, love." He stood up and leant over the table they were seated at to kiss him joyously.
"You're welcome, baby. Both babies, suppose I should say." His partner gave a pearly smile.
However, such feelings of happiness and gratitude were simply futile. When Dave sat down again, the expression on his once ecstatic face changed to one of discomfort instead.
"Ooh, ow." He blurted out, looking down and placing a hand into his lap, while the other remained on the edge of the table.
"Everything alright?" Alan asked, apprehension already present.
"I-" Dave made an attempt to respond, but another sharp cramp cut the beginning of his sentence off. "Ow, OW."
"What's going on, my love?!" Alan shot up from his seat and hunched his body over Dave to keep any inquisitive strangers away.
"It just hurts all of a sudden, I don't know!" He winced.
"Where does it hurt?"
"All low down here," Dave's hand travelled in a line across the entirety of his lower abdomen and pelvic area, predecessing another resurgence of the cramping. "Oh God, owww-"
"Alright, try and breathe." Alan knew he had to try not to seem afraid for, if he did, Dave would only suffer more. "Has this been happening all day or did it literally just start?"
"Just started." His eyes were half open and he breathed heavily through his mouth. "I've never felt anything like this- ugh, oww-"
"Don't try and talk, baby, I don't think that's helping; should we go to the toilet? Maybe you just need to go."
"Y-Yeah, okay."
With that, Alan helped Dave to stand up from his seat and to walk the short distance to the coffee shop's toilet cubicle.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Three minutes later, 2:17pm:

Dave felt huge solace at last hearing the sound of the toilet flushing from outside of the toilet cubicle, as he had hoped it would become vacant again before a further surge of painful cramping surfaced. The sound of the taps running came next, followed by the hand dryer and, at long last, the slot inside the door handle switching from red to green as it was pushed open by the user. They revealed themselves to be an elderly woman, and she smiled weakly at Dave before trudging away.
"I'll go and wait with our stuff." Alan said softly, rubbing his arm.
"Okay, see you in a minute."
Planting a kiss on Dave's cheek, Alan too walked away and back to their table.
At this stage, Dave was beginning to feel weakened from the intensity of the pain he was experiencing. Closing the door behind him and locking it, he leaned against the hind side for a moment and breathed in and out. He then began slowly walking towards the toilet, having to keep his hand secured on the wall to maintain his balance as he did so.
And that was when he noticed them.
Droplets of blood on the floor, between his feet.
"What the..." Confusion and fear instantaneously set in, and in monstrous amounts.
He wasted no time in sitting down on the closed toilet seat lid to investigate. But the answer was almost immediate to come into view, for Dave had to take only one brief look at the trousers he wore to realise he was bleeding.
"Fucking hell!" He cried, horrified by what he could see. "Charlie, Charlie! Oh my God, help me!"
No one could help nor hear him until he'd unlocked the door, he thought, and he knew that was what he needed to do next. But it would prove to be a task of tremendous difficulty; just as he had dreaded, the cramps returned as he tried to stand back up and stronger than ever, and he collapsed to the floor on all fours in pain, having no choice but to crawl his way back to the door. He panted and sobbed, the flow of blood showing no signs of slowing down.
Suddenly, he heard a rhythmic knock on the door and his head dragged upwards from where it hung towards the floor.
Fortunately, a member of staff in the coffee shop had heard his whimpers and cries for help after all.
"Excuse me, sorry, do you need help in there?"
"Yes, please!" Dave was beginning to lose his voice as a result of the pain. "I'm try- I'm trying to unlock the door."
"Can you manage it?" The voice asked.
"I... Ugh," He could no longer speak through the constant onsets of pain, yet his priority in that moment was to reach the lock. "I'm trying." He got out once the next surge had subsided.
Although it seemed he never would, to both himself and the person on the other side of the door, eventually he stretched his hand out far enough and placed his index finger and thumb onto the lock, sliding it out of position.
"Well done," The voice commended him. "I'll just open it ajar." They went on to say.
When they had done so, Dave looked at them. Looking back at him was a young woman of no more than her twenties, wearing a name badge and an apron.
"Oh my!" She exclaimed, inevitably seeing the blood on the floor, and she crouched down to Dave's level. "Please, let me help you; what can I do?"
"G-Go and get my partner, please. Please go and g-get him." Dave stammered.
"What does he look like?" She asked.
"Long-ish, blonde-ish hair, he's - ow - he's sat at that table over there with all- all the shopping bags." He tried to point outward from the cubicle.
However, Alan did not need to be alerted, as he saw the staff member looking in his direction and the door slightly open.
And his intuition told him at once that something was horrendously wrong.