So some people said sequel and other's said prequel, so this is really a bit of both tbh.

Part 1 of 3.

For here you are standing there,

loving me, whether or not you should.

So somewhere in my youth or childhood,

I must've done something good.

-Something Good.

The brunette crossed the reception area, much like she had only days previous - the last time she had attempted to tell her friend her news. She took a seat, pulled the magazine from her handbag and began to flick through it gently, as she waited on someone locating Sam for her.

She looked up at the figure who has stopped, hands on his hips, to stare down at her before he began to speak. "Why are you here?"

She looked up and shook her head at the look of complete contempt which was written clearly across his face as he looked at her. "To see Sam." She spoke slowly, like he always had when speaking to her, and managed to refrain from looking back at her magazine so she could catch the look of disgust his face that flickered over his face - while she wasn't sure if it was because she was here to see Sam, the mention of Sam's name or if it was her, herself. "I've got something to tell her." He nodded his head as if he had taken in her words before he stormed away in the opposite direction letting the doors swing heavily against the wall as he did so.

The moment he seen the long dark swaying over her face and onto her shoulder, who knew exactly who she was, and she was in fact that the last person he wanted to be here in the hospital, just waiting to pull Sam well and truly off the rails and into her mess of a life. He'd been dreading this happening, from the moment he'd met them both years previously. One blonde and eager, the other, the brunette, who looked like she was there because it was what her parents had wanted her to do, she had flashed him a dazzling smile while the blonde had blinked at him uncertainly from blue eyes.

It was the same blue expressive, uncertain eyes which he'd first noticed about the blonde girl; he was vaguely aware that she did seem genuinely interested in what she was doing, and if he was honest, he would admit she was quite good at it. Yet, her eyes were always so uncertain, and he just simply couldn't understand why.

He knew it was her who was picking up the pieces when something went wrong, and not causing it, though her awkward nervousness seemed to influence his opinions of her and decisions about her. On the first day, when he'd seen her pull the hair free from it's confines atop her head and let the long blonde hair flow down her back - he expected her to be one of the weepy ones, and truthfully he could be doing without another doctor that was reduced to tears at the slightest awful diagnosis - before, despite her very timid protests, she was pulled from the hospital and was informed that they were going to celebrate their first day. She'd even smiled at him, well he was sure that she had, and he'd even tried to smile back - but he wasn't sure to this day whether he'd been successful - because the uncertain look was back in her eyes.

Over the first few weeks, he began to wonder if he frightened her, because as capable as he knew she was she seemed reluctant to voice anything to him, letting the brunette do that for her. It was during those same weeks that Miriam told him if he wanted to get anywhere with them, he simply had to learn their names and stop referring to them by their hair colours. It had taken him almost three hours but he had been fairly confidant that the blonde was Samantha and the brunette Kate; though when he referred to the blonde as Samantha the following morning, he noticed that her eyes no longer showed uncertainty but instead swam with an emotion he could not determine, and he wasn't certain he was correct.

He had returned quickly to their hair colours after that particularly awkward incident, which he noted at the time just appeared to make the blonde even more unsure. It was much later in the day, when the blonde had brushed by him to collect results of some sort, he'd heard her whisper, softly: "Sam." When he turned to her, confusion evident, her voice was still quiet, but all the uncertainty in her had diminished: "I'm called Sam." He nodded once and it was in the moments directly afterwards that he realised he'd never asked, before he turned to his paperwork once again as she walked away, yet he couldn't help but turn to around to watch her as she delivered the results to her patient.

She was feeling claustrophobic, every since she'd been attacked - though she wasn't certain if she'd call what happened an attack, but she knew that, that was Dylan's opinion about the entire incident - she'd barely been allowed out the sight of someone from the department, if it wasn't Dylan, it was Zoe or Charlie, or Jeff and sometimes Jeff and Dixie.

She sat down in the staff room, pondering whether it was worth her while making a cup of tea when the door swung open violently and Dylan cross the room quickly, his frustration evident though about what she was unsure, and he glanced up genuinely surprised to see her before concern replaced the frustration: "Are you feeling alright?" She blinked, confused, before nodding her head. She was fairly certain Dylan had never been this over protective when they were married, well together because technically they were still very much married. She sighed, not wishing to linger on that particular subject, as she stood to put the kettle on.

"I was making tea, is that allowed, or do I have to run that by you too, now?" She closed her eyes, pursing her lips tightly, she hadn't meant to be so harsh, he knew that he was just trying to look after her - but he couldn't keep her wrapped in cotton wool, no matter what he had tried he never could. She felt her eyes fill with tears, and she opened them and turned to look at her husband sadly, before she spoke quietly: "I'm sorry, Dylan I'm sorry." He made no indication of hearing her words and she stepped away from the kettle, letting tears slip down her cheeks and drip from her chin before disappearing into the turquoise of her top as she curled herself up onto the sofa.

He stopped in the middle of the room, letting her words wash over him; taking in her defeated posture as she attempted to curl herself up into a tighter position. He did worry that the experience she'd been put through a few nights before, would have weakened her usual feisty attitude, and he was reluctant to allow the one person who he believed had been the root cause of the awful turn of events back into Sam's life again, but he supposed she wouldn't thank him for interfering. "Kate's in reception." He had said it more as a fact, hoping that he was giving her the option of whether she wanted to go and speak to her or not. He wasn't sure what it meant though that when she turned to look at him and gave him the time to survey her properly the only thing he could see was uncertainty in her blue eyes.

It'll be a little earlier tomorrow, I think.. but I'll be updating tomorrow - much like last week.

Anny x