She shakes a little harder with every sob, fists curling so tight she can almost feel her nails punching through the skin.

She feels so stupid and so betrayed; cheated out of the one thing in the world she had left after losing Doc. She never got to lie awake at night worrying over names until after it was too late. She never got to touch him. She never got to sing him to sleep. The one good thing -- and it wasn't even good; it wasn't even right -- was that she wouldn't have to tell Doc that she lost his son or daughter.

And then he came back.

"It's my fault."

She should have been more careful. She should have been more wise. She should have known; she should have done something. She should have been able to do something.

'God will punish you!'

"It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault!" she chokes, desperate screams muffled by raging tears.