"Mr. Hiddleston?" Dr. Johnson called out to the waiting room. Tom stood quickly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pant legs before running his fingers through his messy curls. "Could you please come into the back with me, and I will lead you to where Mrs. Hiddleston is." The doctor motioned for him to follow.

Tom nodded and followed him. They went past several rooms until they came to the doors labeled POST OPERATION INTENSIVE CARE UNIT. The doctor clicked the automatic open to the side, and they continued into the fairly sterile environment. There were four nurse stations in a row, each had fifteen sets of screens and vitals—one for each bed. Tom looked and found Anima's near the middle, and the vitals looked stable. Tom searched the rooms with glass walls and sliding doors. It looked like a setting out of Star Trek. The doctor motioned to the door and said he would be along shortly.

"Hey baby, how ya doin'?" Anima slurred. They must have given her pain killers. She was lying in the bed, one arm above her head and the other across her chest. She looked like a female Count Dracula.

"Hello, darling, how are you? Are you feeling okay?"

"As you can tell Mr. Hiddleston, your wife is a little loopy," the doctor said as he walked in and checked his laptop where her information was stored away.

Tom smirked. "When can I take her home?"

"She can recover at home as soon as she's able to walk. We don't want any clots forming in her legs. We went in laproscopically, so there's hardly any evidence of surgery. She'll be a bit bloated from our pumping air into her abdomen. Just have her lay still."

"Alright. So I'm guessing the surgery was a success?"

"It was a complete success," the doctor seemed to cave in on himself. "However, there was a complication. I'm afraid she cannot have children. The uterus was damaged slightly during the removal of the tumor. The tumor was metastasized to the tissue. There was no way around it I'm afraid."

A knife seemed to stab Tom straight through the heart. He may have actually flinched a little bit at the news. Anima and he had talked about having kids after she recovered, and Tom had signed on with an agent. They were supposed to be happy now. What went wrong? Now, Tom would have to see that sparkle of hope fade from her eyes. She would be devastated, possibly deadened, but Tom would love her no less. He went and signed the paperwork to begin the process of taking her home before he returned and sat beside Anima with a heavy sigh. Right now, he couldn't focus on his pain. He needed to focus on his wife and how he could best help her. That was his job as her husband: to be there for her and take care of her.

"You want to try and walk, love?"

"Uh huh."

Tom put an arm around her back and swung one of her arms around his neck. Holding her up straight, he tried to get her to take a step even as her body protested and tried to slump down.

"Ooooooooooh, doesn't someone smell awfully nice today," Anima asked as she flung herself on him, swinging her arms around his neck and playing with the curls at the base of his neck.

"It's the same cologne that I always wear," he chuckled while regaining his balance. He started making Anima use her feet, and after a few laps in the hallway, she was able to hobble around without nearly killing herself in the process. Tom found a wheelchair and brought it to her, sitting her and her things down in it in that order. "Let's get you home, darling."

"Using our special word, aren't ya? Trying to get your way with me? Well, I'll have you know, that I have a very special plan as to what I am going to do to you."

Tom chuckled. "Not yet, we aren't home yet."

"Yes we are. Hey, who took the house?!"

Tom just let her continue to ramble as he wheeled her to their car. He opened up the passenger door and deposited her gently. He lifted her shirt, checking the incision just to be safe and then buckled her in. By the time he returned to the car after returning the wheelchair, Anima was livid. "Why Tom?! How come I'm not driving? I ALWAYS drive the Kitten, or did you forget that. Kitten. Ruff."

"I'm sorry, Annie, but you're still a bit too loopy to drive."

"I am not loopy! How dare you say that to your wife?!"

Tom sighed as he started the car and glanced over to see her glaring at him. Then she kissed him roughly, nearly breaking his nose in the process. He struggled out of her grasp and tried to keep her still while she tried to climb him like a tree. "Annie, not right now. I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're taking drugs."

"Yeah, sure, let's see how long you can resist me," she said as she slid a hand over to his knee and one down his chest.

Tom pulled out of the parking lot and started heading home. After not getting her intended response, Anima finally gave up and started poking her cheek. The endeavor to get her into the apartment was nearly too much, but he finally got her laid out on the couch. Now he was in the kitchen looking for something she could eat and drink. He needed to keep her hydrated and eating regularly.

"Tooooom, where's the food? I'm dying," Anima's voice wailed.

"Oh, you'll survive; just give me a minute."

He decided on ice cream and grabbed two spoons before lying behind her on the couch, positioning her in between his legs. He handed her the pint and turned on the tele and found a good Tom Hanks movie to watch: The Green Mile. As they watched, Tom was trying to figure out how he would explain to Annie that her dream of being a mother wouldn't come true? She would hate him. By time the credits rolled in, Tom realized Anima was sound asleep against his chest, mouth open and drooling. She groaned and shifted, pulling his hand to her stomach, her eyelids fluttering open.

"Annie?"

"Hey, how'd it go? Was the surgery successful?"

Tom sighed heavily. "We need to talk, Annie."