Chapter 1: Could We Start Again, Please?

Kent's POV

I sit on the uncomfortable hospital chair, head between my knees, the harsh lighting of the recovery room glaring against my closed eyelids as I silently weep. The only sound is the jarring BEEP of the monitor. The monitor to which Sam Kingston, the love of my life, is hooked, unresponsive to the world.

Is that little monitor all that is keeping her here? I try not to think of the high probability. I can't think about much of anything. Even the frantic ride with her in the ambulance is blurry and hazy. I had to watch the paramedics lift her off that cursed asphalt onto a stretcher. Juliet Sykes was screaming hysterically, and I couldn't just leave her, so she tagged along; she is being looked over further down the hall.

I pick up on the faint rumble of elevator music coming over the intercom and will my brain to focus on it, tuning out the monitor's BEEPs as best as I am able.

"I've been living to see you... dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this. This was unexpected - what do I do now? Could we start again, please? I've been very hopeful so far... now for the first time, I think we're going wrong. Hurry up and tell me this is just a dream. Could we start again, please? I think you've made your point now. You've even gone a bit too far to get your message home. Before it gets too frightening, we ought to call a halt. Could we start again, please?"

It's exactly what I want to say to Sam - the beginning of so many questions, chiefly swirling around how... out-of-character she was today. Well, yesterday. With a groan, I look at the wall and realize it is 4:00 in the morning. I sniffle and sob quietly.

"Please... please, Samantha... come back... I love you!"

The timing is almost on cue. Telepathy and eerie. It is as if my voice awakens her. I hear a soft moan and then...

"Kent...?"

My head snaps up, and I see Sam conscious and tiny in that hospital bed, smiling weakly as she reaches for me. Choking and gasping back happiness and relief, I scoop her up in my arms, and nearly carry her away right there, until I remember just in time that she is still hooked up to machines. Gingerly, I set her back down.

"What happened?" Sam murmurs. "I'm not supposed to be here..."

"You were hit by a car, honey," I tell her quietly. She doesn't start or flinch at the term of endearment, which causes a bubble of hope to settle in my chest. "And don't say that! You must have wanted to live, if you came back from the edge."

"Or maybe I was just given a second chance..." Sam postulates quietly. The way she says this is very mysterious - mysterious as her behavior yesterday. It makes me wonder if she knew something, had a premonition. It makes me shudder.

"Where... where is my family?"

"They've been in to see you. They're in a meeting with the doctor."

Sam peers at me curiously. "And you stayed?"

"As long as you need me," I tell her firmly.

Sam gapes, and then seems to decide something. "Kent, come here," she whispers.

I obey without question, though my eyes are wary. As soon as I am bent over her, Sam grabs me and smashes her lips to mine. I hear her groan happily at the touch of my lips, and after a moment, I feel brave enough to kiss her back.

"And that's another thing..." I get out once we break apart. I have to twist away for air, even though Sam is still desperately reaching for me, her lips springing to make contact with any skin. "Why did you kiss me? Just now, and yesterday."

"I told you I meant everything," Sam says quietly. "It's just... something changed in me. I... saw you for the first time. And I saw who I was, and that... that wasn't who I wanted to be."

I consider this, regarding her curiously. "And now? What do you want now?"

Sam smiles weakly. "To be with you." Her eyes flit to her lap. "That is, if you'll have me. I hope I'm worthy."

I grin so wide, it nearly breaks my face. "Of course I'll have you! And you are more than worthy, Samantha!" I bravely lean down and kiss her, and she doesn't object, her mouth upturned into a soft smile.

"Say my full name again," she whispers against my mouth.

I chuckle. "Samantha," and it flows from me like water. Sam purrs happily, and we break apart.

"I don't think I've ever heard you call me by my full name before," she murmurs. "It's nice."

"Then, I will do it often," I promise. I scoot my chair closer to her bedside, scraping it gratingly against the tiles, and fall into it, still holding her hand. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just you," Sam beams with affection.

"Well, look at that! I'm already here!" I crack and we both laugh. I feel her thumb weakly stroking over my knuckles. Our eyes lock.

"I love you," she expresses quietly.

I grin. "I know. I love you, too."