Note: I am a sucker for medical stories. This series is very similar in places to my long West Wing fic "Gravitation is Not Responsible", because the injury is so similar. I did a ton of research for that story when I wrote it six years ago, and it made writing this one go very smoothly.

Auggie sat in what was quick becoming his usual spot at the side of Annie's bed. He found her hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly.

"You scared the hell out of me, Annie."

It had taken the doctors nearly ten minutes to get her heart going again after Lena's attempt to smother her. Auggie had never felt so helpless. All he could do was stand there, just out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Joan's presence at his side, holding his shoulder, but it was all kind of a blur. Ten minutes doesn't usually seem like a long time, but when your best friend's heart is not beating on its own, it is unbearable.

He'd let out a huge sigh of relief when he first heard the blip-blip, blip-blip of her heartbeat returning. Beside him, Joan audibly did the same. The doctor was quick to warn them that it was too soon to tell what the lingering effects of the incident would be. Once again, they had to wait and see. Joan had excused herself shortly after they spoke with the doctor. With Lena on the run, she had to get back to headquarters to update Arthur and help coordinate the capture, however unlikely that was at this point.

So Auggie was alone again, sitting in this uncomfortable chair, clinging to Annie's hand. Man, he was tired. How long had it been since he'd slept? He'd grabbed an hour here or an hour there in the awful, hard plastic chair he was currently sitting in, but he hadn't really slept in the—he pressed his watch, "4:45pm"- 48 hours since he'd gotten the phone call from the hospital. Auggie put his other arm on the railing, and lay his head in the crook of his elbow. He was out in less than a minute.

It was the pressure on his hand that woke him up some time later. Groggily, he burrowed his head deeper into his elbow. He felt it again, harder this time, and his sleepy brain finally registered what he was feeling. Annie was squeezing his hand. His head popped up, facing her, and he squeezed back.

"Hey…" he said, stroking her wrist with the hand that just seconds ago had been his pillow.

"Aug…" She couldn't get out the rest, and just squeezed his hand hard instead.

It was just the first syllable of his name, but it choked him up and he had to take few breaths to try to calm back down. He wasn't very successful. She was awake. And she recognized him, which wasn't a guarantee after all that she'd been through in the last two days. He couldn't stop the tears from coming.

"Don't…" she rasped, "…cry…"

He chuckled through his tears. "They're happy tears," he insisted, pulsing her hand in his. "You're awake. You haven't been awake while I've been here yet, and after… You had me scared." He bowed his head, swallowing hard.

"Aug…" She took a frustrated breath.

It dawned on him. "Your throat is too dry to talk." She pulsed his hand in affirmation. "I should have realized. Let me get the nurse."

It pained him to let go of her hand, however briefly. The nurse came and gave them a cup of ice chips. She explained they were holding off on anything more substantial, to not tax her system too hard yet. The young nurse asked if he was okay to give them to her himself, and she sounded busy, so he nodded. She'd been great to him so far, so he could figure it out. And then she was gone, leaving Auggie holding the cold cup.

"Uh…" he crossed in close. "This is gonna be awkward." He reached out, gently trying to find her face. His knuckled brushed up the side of her neck, and she giggled. She was quite ticklish, he remembered. "Sorry." His hand found her lips, and she nipped his fingertip. He laughed out loud. These small gestures—so normal and fun—were doing a great deal towards making him feel like she was going to be okay. He set down the cup at her side, and brought an ice chip over to where his other hand rest at her mouth. She took it gratefully. "More?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm, " she murmured. They repeated that several times. "Thank…you."

Her voice wasn't nearly as raspy, but she still didn't have a lot of breath. The nurse had prepared them for that. Now that Annie was awake, they could bring in the respiratory therapist soon to improve her breath capacity.

"You good?" he asked. "One…more." He fed her one more ice chip and set the styrafoam cup on the tray table. "How are you doing?" he asked, leaving one hand on her cheek, while lacing the fingers of the other hand through hers once again.

"Tired," she said, squeezing his hand with less vigor than before.

"Don't feel like you have to try to stay awake on my account. Right now, the most important thing you can do is get the rest you need. You've been through a lot, and the next few days are gonna be tough. If you need to sleep, you sleep."

"Okay…" Her tone was a bit of a protest.

"I mean it."

"Lena?" she asked.

"She got away. Joan's on it."

Annie squeezed his hand hard. "Stay?" she asked, hesitantly, a hint of fear in her voice.

He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," she murmured. "You…look…like you…need…sleep too."

"Yeah, I've been a little preoccupied." He sat back in the chair. "If you wake up again and I'm asleep, just squeeze hard."

She pulsed his hand lightly. " 'Kay."

Silence fell between them, and he could hear her breathing even out. It was so good to have spoken to her, even as short a conversation as it had been. This time he put his head down with a much lighter heart. Things were looking up. He quickly drifted back to sleep, still holding on to her hand.