Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

This is Ryan's hospital visit after "Welcome Home." Written in Ryan's point of view.

"Don't let him die," I think to myself as I wait in the intensive care unit waiting room.

The guilt takes over me. I shouldn't have let him go in there by himself. Now he's in the operating room, within an inch of his life.

The hours drag on. My foot won't stop tapping nervously against the white tile floor. Finally, a doctor comes out into the waiting room. I spring to my feet.

"Ryan Hardy?" the middle-aged, Japanese doctor asks.

"That's me," I reply.

"Mike is out of surgery now. He has a concussion as well as the stab wound, but he should make a full recovery."

"Is he awake?" I anxiously asked.

"Yes," the doctor replied. "He's been asking for you ever since he woke up."

"May I see him now?"

"Follow me."

The doctor walked me to Mike's room. I thank him and walk in. I sit down in the chair a few feet from his bed. Our eyes meet.

"I didn't tell them anything," Mike softly says.

I nod my head. I try to open my mouth, but seeing Mike in this state makes me feel uneasy.

"I didn't tell them anything," he repeats.

"I know," I manage to say.

"I didn't tell them anything."

Mike starts breathing heavily. Tears form in his eyes.

"Shhh, it's ok," I reassure him.

I get up out of the chair and move closer to Mike. I gently place my hand on his shoulder.

"I didn't…" Mike tries to repeat.

"Listen to me, buddy. You did great today," I softly tell him while making direct eye contact.

This seems to calm him. His breathing steadies.

"That's it. Take it easy," I tell him, keeping my hand on his shoulder.

Mike settles down, and he drifts to sleep. I slowly take my hand off of his shoulder, and sit back down. The guilt begins to sink in again. I can't just leave him. He's going to wake up again. He can't be alone. Not now.

He looks so young. That's what he is: Young. Underneath it all, he is just a kid. An ambitious and intelligent kid.

I let out a sigh. Not only do I feel guilty about letting him go on his own, I feel guilty about my attitude toward him. I thought he was annoying and trying to be my best friend, but he truly cares about putting an end to Joe Carroll's killings. He proved himself tonight. He put his life on the line to protect Claire Matthews.

Several hours pass before Mike stirs in his sleep. I move the chair closer to his bed, and put my hand on his shoulder again.

"Ryan," he mumbles.

"I'm right here," I softly tell him, gently squeezing his shoulder.

His eyes open, and he turns his head toward me.

"How long was I out?" he asks me.

"A few hours," I tell him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How come you stayed here?" he asks

"I didn't want you to wake up alone."

"Thanks," he says. "And I didn't tell them Claire's location."

"I know. You kept repeating that until you went to sleep."

"I don't remember any of that," he says, looking confused.

"What can you remember?" I ask him.

"I remember Charlie stabbing me, gunshots, and you holding me. Everything goes black from there."

Mike looks at me with wide eyes.

"You saved my life, Ryan."

"I'm the reason you're in the hospital," I say. "If I would have gone with you, you would have been ok."

I run my hands over my face. I try to fight the tears. Then, I feel a gentle touch on my arm. I look up, and Mike's hand is on my arm.

"It's not your fault," he reassures me.

I still feel the guilt, but knowing that Mike isn't upset with me makes me feel better. I look at him again. He looks so weak.

"You should get some more sleep," I tell him.

Mike nods his head and takes his hand off my arm. I watch him as he closes his eyes. I wait a few minutes before getting up. I quietly leave the room.

"He's going to be alright," I think to myself.

From here on out, I vow to look after Mike and always make sure someone accompanies him when tracking Followers.

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