"Fractured Heart"

Part 1

You lay on the couch, surrounded by the sterile white walls of your living room. The soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint scent of disinfectant wafted through the air, making your sensitive nose twitch. You whimpered, clutching a small, plush doll to your chest. Hange, your dominant Alpha partner, sat beside you, his piercing eyes filled with concern. The past few days had been a blur. The memories of your miscarriage still felt like a nightmare, one you couldn't wake up from. You had been looking forward to meeting your baby, to holding them in your arms and loving them with every fiber of your being. But it was not meant to be. The complications during childbirth had taken everything away from you, leaving you with a hollow, gnawing ache in your chest. Hange's gentle voice cut through your thoughts, "My love... don't do that anymore... that's a doll, it's not our baby, our baby died..." His words were like a warm blanket, comforting, yet painful. You whimpered, tears streaming down your face as you shook your head. You didn't want to let go of the doll. It was your baby now, your only connection to the child you had lost. You became agitated, overwhelmed by the world around you. The bright lights, the sound of Hange's voice, everything felt like too much. You regressed, your mind spiraling back to a time when you were a newborn baby, helpless and scared. Your cries turned to wails, and you buried your face in the doll's soft fabric. Hange's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he tried to soothe you. "Shh, my love, it's okay. I'm here. I'll take care of you." But you were beyond consolation. You wanted a baby, a real baby, not a doll. Adopting a baby wouldn't feel the same, you thought, your mind stuck in its infantile haze. You wailed, "No... no... want baby... want my baby..." Your tiny hands clenched into fists, pounding against your chest. Hange's grip on you tightened, holding you as you thrashed about. He whispered gentle words in your ear, trying to calm you down, but you were lost in your own world of pain and sorrow. The doll, once a mere object, had become your lifeline, your comfort in a world that seemed too harsh to bear. You wouldn't let it go, not yet. Hange's worried eyes met yours, and he knew he had to tread carefully. Your fragile mental state was precarious, and he was determined to support you through this ordeal. As the storm of your emotions raged on, Hange held you close, a constant presence in your life, a reminder that you were not alone in your grief. But for now, you were trapped in a sea of sorrow, unable to find a lifeline to cling to.