At first, she had no words. It was as if she had just been inserted into a movie, and she could think of nothing to say. If she had been younger, she may have found it all fascinating and exciting, and if she were a month further in her pregnancy, she may have gone into labor. In fact, she was a little surprised all the excitement and shock hadn't sent her into labor, but she hardly had any time to think about why she hadn't.
"It-it's okay," she found herself saying. "I'm...very glad you...were there...even if you...." She took a gulp of air and stared out the window in hopes of gathering her thoughts. It was in vain, for she could hardly think of anything. All her thoughts were on the edge of her mind and not distinct enough for her to organize them.
She looked over at him and held back a gasp. "You're bleeding. They shot you? They followed you.... They want to take you out especially? And now they've seen us together...." If they thought they were together, would they think her child was his? If they wanted to kill Tom specifically, did they want to kill him badly enough to use her child?
This time, she could hold back her tears, and after a moment, she did not bother holding them back. "Don't leave me." It was a childish request, but at the moment, she did not feel much like an adult. "You can't. You can't. You can't leave me now, Tom. You can't send me off. You can't. Don't leave me."—sniff!—"Please."