The last time I saw her, she wasn't breathing. She wasn't smirking at me, or telling me to shut up, or even punching me. She was in full cardiac arrest and I was suffering from a terrible heartbreak. Mary was on the brink of death and there was nothing I could do to help her, but I could have done everything to prevent it. The only thing I can allow myself to be thankful for is that several hours ago, the doctor came back and said she should make a full recover if she made it past the 24 hour mark. Ten hours left to go.

I'm not allowed in her room right now, as they are only allowing three people at a time to see her. I have no control over who gets to see her, so until either Raph, Jinx, or Brandi decide to go home, I am stuck sitting in a chair just outside her room. I have been dying to see her, and the only thing holding me back is that I told her I would never leave her. I would absolutely love to shoot them so they would let me see Mary, if the consequence wasn't going to jail for it. I have to be here when she wakes up. I will not leave the closest side I can get to her. Wild horses, a book full of all the trivia in the world, or even loads of guys with guns would never be able to drag me away from this spot.

Stan is still out there, searching for the son of a bitch, and Eleanor popped in for a few minutes to bring me food and coffee and to find out about Mary's current condition. Even with Mary and Eleanor's antagonistic bond, we are all a tight knit family. We are a family: Mary, Stan, Eleanor, and myself.

I flinched as I remembered Raph's words when we reached her room. "I believe family should get to see her first."

I've known Mary longer than Raph and even her own mother, well maybe sober anyway. I'm her best and only friend. That should count for something. Right?

I heard the sound of the door opening and I watched as Brandi and Jinx walked tiredly down the hall with Raph guiding them. As they had walked down the hallway and into the elevator, I noted, slightly angrily, that they never once noticed me sitting here. If I hadn't been here, they would have left her all alone with no one to be with her when she woke up. Immediately, I stood and walked into the room.

Her skin was so pale, tubes were everywhere, and most importantly, machines beeping steadily. Even though I know that the second she wakes up, she will be in pain, I can't help but stare at the look on her face. It's almost calm. It is something that I've never gotten to see. Forget seeing her in her sleep. The only time she fell asleep near me was after the near rape incident and ever sense that night, her dreams were plagued with nightmares. All thoughts of peace were shattered. She was a tortured animal and I only hope that the powers that be would stop letting her be tortured. She deserves the peace that sleep can bring and she deserves calm that life has to offer with, of course, the chaos she can't live without.

I took a seat and immediately fought the urge to fall asleep. Thirty-six hours of no sleep was pure torture, but it was possible that my head would lie somewhere that would be extremely painful for her when she wakes up or I would be too close so the nurses couldn't change her bandages if it was needed. I won't cause her any more pain.

So I sat, and I watched. I watched as her chest rose and fell with her breathing. I was so engrossed in watching her breathing that a half hour into it, I almost missed seeing her eyes flutter for a second before closing again. I waited anxiously to see if she would open them again.

Fifteen minutes: nothing.

Thirty minutes: there was a twitch of a finger.

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes and I heard a short, soft moan. Her eyes fluttered open once again but this time stayed open. Her sharp green eyes gazed softly at me. It was so mesmerizing that I couldn't breath, much less say hello to her. I handed her a small glass of watcher and watched as she eagerly gulped down the water.

She placed the glass back into my hands and asked in a small voice, "What happened?"

I winced. If this was any other person, I would gladly tell them that they weren't ready to know what happened, but this is Mary. A few years ago, just after we settled into a routine, Mary got into a terrible car accident escorting a witness from Dallas. She had hit her head heard and was in a coma for ten days. She had asked back then what happened to her, and I refused to tell her more than she was in an accident. She had gotten pissed and the second she got some strength back, she promptly kicked my ass. Ever since then, we swore we would tell each other everything that happened before we were injured unless, of course, it was against doctor's orders.

I sighed and started to remind her how Francesca had moved to a bad neighborhood and that she was shot by someone there, someone who wasn't Mario.

Her fists clenched at the sheets when I mentioned the shooting. I froze the second I noticed it.

I asked her slowly, "Do you know who it is?"

She nodded, "Just one question." She paused, almost as if she hated having to ask it. "Did I hit him?"

I sighed in relief. I could understand where she was coming from, especially if Bobby was right. This guy shot first, and she shot immediately afterward just as his shot hit her, forcing her to fall. She wouldn't have been able to see if she hit her mark or if the bastard got away.

I gave her a small smile and nodded. She smiled back and motioned for me to move closer. She was exhausted and her voice was just getting quieter and harder to understand. I leaned forward and listened carefully as she told me exactly who it was. She slipped back into sleep and I backed away towards the door so I could call Stan without disturbing her. I looked back towards her bed and grinned when I noticed that once again she was enjoying a peaceful sleep. There was even a hint of a small smile. She was just so...

Mesmerizing.