Dylan

Sam walks in looking like she's been dragged through a hedge backwards. She catches my eye and shakes her head.

She couldn't save David – and she's devastated.

Once Amanda is stabilised, Zoe suggests to Sam that she should go and get cleaned up. As she turns to leave, looking tired and distraught, I realise I can't let her leave without attempting to offer her some form of comfort – or at least saying something to her. I quickly move between her and the door.

"From the moment we moved the rock, we both knew this was almost certainly going to happen. I just...I wasn't comfortable with..." I hesitate – not entirely sure what I'm trying to say. Thankfully, Sam knows me very well – it's one of the things that make us great together. I'm no good with words, but she usually knows what I'm trying to say, without me saying it.

"Look..." She says quietly. "It didn't sit right with me either, but as it saved her life, I'll think I'll live with the occasional sleepless night."

Sam

I come out of the shower, having cleaned myself up – but I don't feel any better. I can hear Dylan's calming voice from earlier, as well as cross words we exchanged – echoing in the back of my mind and Amanda's terror, but at the forefront of my mind is the man I failed to save. With the GMC hanging over me, this loss hits me hard.

I sit on the bed in the on-call room. This could have gone so differently. Best-case scenario would have been getting everyone out alive, but failing that, the next best thing would have been getting both patients out alive – along with Dylan. I don't have a death wish, but if one of us had to die, it should have been me. I've made such a mess of pretty much everything in my life so far.

My husband and I are estranged – and that's down to me. My affair was the main reason our marriage broke down, despite what I said earlier. Yes, the angry words to Dylan in the cave were true, but it doesn't change what I did. And let's face it, it was always going to happen – I'm like poison in a wound and I drag people down. When we took our vows, I meant every word, but it turns out I said them with a serpent's tongue. Dylan shouldn't have trusted me – he really shouldn't have. I love him so much, and I wish that I hadn't done what I did – but I did do it. I did.

Then there's my job. I ruined Dylan's life again by turning up to work at Holby. It's no wonder he wanted to keep our marriage a secret, but when he nearly died in the ED fire, and I got the phone call that everyone dreads, did he really think I could continue to hide it?

I might be a snake - and a crap wife, but I'm not heartless, and I still care.

After a long day – when I was over-tired, I saw Keith Parr assaulting my husband, and without a second thought, I instinctively strove to protect Dylan.

Getting the other man in a headlock was wrong. I did it for the right reasons – but it was still wrong. I injured Keith Parr, and now my job is on the line. I know I'm going to lose it. They called Iain to stand, so the other thing that happened in the army – the thing I can't talk to anyone about, is sure to come out. Then there's Zoe, who's been called to give evidence against me.

I've got no chance – absolutely none. All the work Dylan put into mentoring me was for nothing. It was a waste of his time.

So I don't have a death wish but I'm just so sick of messing everything up – and really, how many chances does one person deserve? I didn't know David, but he can't have made as many mistakes as I have. He deserved to live more than me, that's all.

I glance down at my arm and find that despite my hot shower, the cut I acquired during the cave rescue, is still bleeding.

Great.

Dylan

Walking past the quiet reception, I see Sam sitting in front of the computer, staring into space miserably. I have no idea what to say in order to comfort her, so I attempt to walk past, but she catches me.

"Are the police informing David's parents?"

"Uh, yes." I agree. She nods at me and I decide to add my attempt at 'caring' words after all. "I'm...I just wanted to say, um...sorry about some of the things I said earlier...and, um...I'm sorry for some of the things I have done in the past. Um...Amanda's in ITU now...and I didn't realise you saw our marriage like that."

Wrong order, Dylan.

Sam

"Anyway," He continues. "You did a fantastic job, in very difficult circumstances – and you acted completely in the interests of both casualties. If anybody asks, I will make sure they know that."

"Sounds like an early draft of a written report." I remark as he turns to leave.

Dylan turns back. "Nobody's asked for a report, have they?" He retorts, his brows furrowing with worry.

I laugh weakly. "Calm down." I breathe in deeply. "Thank you." I'm so grateful that he has my back – even after what I did to him. I love him to bits.

He stands there, hands on hips. "We can't go on like this, Sam."

Is this Dylan trying to end our marriage? Quite often, I know what he's trying to say, but this time, I'm not sure.

I sigh. "I know. I know. It's just..." I put my head in my hand for a few seconds and rub my face. "You, me, the GMC...it's all just stuck."

It''s a mess – a mess of my own creation.

Dylan

Noel comes up and rudely interrupts us – much to my annoyance. I was finally getting somewhere with my wife. Sam looks pretty annoyed with the intrusion too.

"Sorry, um, Dylan – Dr Hanna is looking for you."

I sigh and start to walk away, but Sam suddenly grabs my hand as it goes past her. I instinctively squeeze hers. We haven't had that sort of contact for a long time and I forgot how much I love her touch. I miss my wife.

"Dylan?" She starts nervously, standing up and looking down at the floor. "Thanks for..." She swallows and looks back up to meet my gaze. "...being a man about it. You always knew how to cut through things and get me thinking straight."

I can tell she's struggling to hold my gaze and I decide it's now or never – before she loses her nerve completely. Or before I do. I squeeze her hand again, then lean forward and capture her lips.

Sam

It takes me completely by surprise – Dylan certainly brings a new meaning to 'sweeping someone off their feet'. He doesn't want to end our marriage – he wants me back.

When the surprise has passed, it doesn't take me long to melt into him and my other hand strokes his face – embracing the beard I've always loved. That beard is him.

"Please come home." He whispers gruffly, when we break apart.

"I'd really like that." I whisper back.

'Home' is where Dylan is.