To think I might not see those eyes

I've been listening to Run by Leona Lewis recently...and those lyrics really struck me. So, here's a short song-fic...very sad...hopefully.

I'll sing it one last time for you, then we really have to go.
Mei's hands, shaking, held her baby. Her baby of four weeks. Tiny, his tiny fists pumping in the air. She extended her finger and he held on, his own fingers, so tiny. He was a premature baby; born at 35 weeks. He wasn't doing well...not at all.

"Mei? We have to go soon...the doctors need to see to Jonah." Sinedd's calm, quiet voice, punctuating the silence of the room. He'd been there all along.

"O..." Her voice sounded too cracked, too weak. She and Sinedd were meant to be strong...she needed to be strong for her baby. "Ok." She nodded, she shifted in her chair and looked over her shoulder at her husband and she smiled. "Ok." She repeated.

Sinedd's eyes bore into hers for a few seconds, then he nodded and left the room. Mei's eyes, now shining with tears, turned back now to her tiny baby's perfect face. Then she began to sing:

"Goodnight, my angel. Time to close your eyes and save these questions for another day. I think I know what you've been asking me, I think you know what I've been trying to say. I promised I would never leave you and you should always know; wherever you may go, no matter where you are
I never will be far away."

Jonah was asleep. His small, short breaths the only thing interrupting the silence, the silence that Mei sat and silently cried in.

And I can barely look at you.

Mei's eyes opened and they met the onyx darkness of Sinedd's. Jonah had Sinedd's eyes. Had had Sinedd's eyes. She shut her eyes again, not wanting to look at him. He didn't leave, he stayed near her...comforting, but not enough to mend her now broken heart.

Light up, light up. As if you have a choice Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you, dear.
In the church, staring at that tiny coffin. It wasn't right. The people around her if this was a joyous occasion. What was it people said to make themselves feel better about funerals? 'He had a long life', 'We're celebrating his life'. What life? Her baby had been snatched away from her. A deadly disease she didn't even want to think the name of. She flew away from the funeral, she pictured herself with her baby, singing to him, cuddling him. She would sing to him...

To think I might not see those eyes, makes it so hard not to cry.
Jonah's tiny eyes opened once again, he looked startled as he gazed up at his mother. His mother's own eyes welled up with tears. Those large, shiny onyx eyes; so innocent, so perfect. Mei didn't want to see them ever shut. She stroked his red nose with her finger...He was still so red, so raw. He was still so ill and yet so perfect to his mother. She closed her own eyes, trying to savour the memory of her son's large onyx eyes.

I can hardly speak , I understand why you can't raise your voice to say.
The crowd watched as the tiny –too tiny, too, too tiny- coffin was lowered into the dirt. Mei didn't want to see that. Jonah was meant to be in a crib, resting on the pillow next to her. A grave was no place for her baby. Her precious, precious baby. Sinedd's arms were around her, he was crying, she wept too.

To think I might not see those eyes, makes it so hard not to cry.
Her baby...forever gone. She would never be able to cuddle him to her chest, tap him on the nose...ever again. They hadn't had long enough. Mei dreaded the night times now...his eyes were always there in her dreams...her baby.

I hope it didn't insult anyone D: I tried to make it quite emotional. The timeline was rather skippy...but that's ok right? R&R. The song Mei sang is called: Goodnight My Angel and it's by Billy Joel (so, so sad). Oh and I know babies eyes don't fade that quickly from blue...