The beeping woke her.

Olivia had never understood why you were admitted into hospitals 'to rest.' It was nearly impossible to rest in a hospital. There was a constant sense of foreboding in a hospital. You knew that there was a chance of death. How did they expect you to be calm? If you traveled to the right floor, you would find the morgue. There was a prevalent grim sense that accompanied hospitals. Some entered and never returned. Some entered and two left the hospital. The exchange of lives was a business. Despite the grim tale, Olivia hated the beeping most. It reminded her of a bomb. It was a ticking clock that seemed to countdown your time. If the sound grew louder, pulsed, then your time was up. It was always the same. It would be kind to think that they would make sound proof doors and just hook some alarm to the nurses' station. The blaring sound could be heard from room to room. Despite not seeing Death looming over his newest patron, the sound was worse.

Her dark eyes fluttered open and there was a splitting pain behind her eyes. A soft groan of misery tore from her lips. Weakly, Olivia shifted and stole a shuddering breath. Her lungs filled with a painful burn and she sputtered a cough. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light. As she shifted her brows, her sight seemed to strengthen and the warm neutral tones on the wall came to light. She narrowed her eyes and attempted to remember where she was. She attempted to make sense of why she was in a hospital. Her body trembled in pain and she coughed agonizingly. Relaxing back on the bed, she extended her neck and felt a sudden wooziness overtake her. Her body was light and the pain seemed to float away. Her eyes fell shut again and she sighed gratefully. She welcomed the release from her pain. Olivia wasn't sure if she was sleeping or simply detached from her body. The details were fuzzy, but whatever she was, Olivia appreciated to shut everything off. As she was finally able to calm, to reach a point of sincere still, her mind shot into high speed. Her thoughts raced, heart pumped, breath grew shallower, and breath hitched painfully. Her jaw quivered and she moaned, what about her baby?

Suddenly, as if someone had read her thoughts, a hand squeezed hers. She didn't recognize the rougher skin. Nonetheless, Olivia felt a sense of calm overtake her. The sweet gesture left allowed her worries to leave for just a moment. Surely, this stranger wouldn't let anything happen to her baby. While she had never been a particularly religious person, Olivia couldn't help but thinking this was her guardian angel. While religion had never been her 'thing,' Christmas was. Maybe, this was her Christmas miracle. Her lips twitched in recognition and a curl was tucked behind her ear. She pressed her head to the unfamiliar touch, but couldn't manage to say anything.

The pain dissipated as her eyes fluttered open for the second time. Olivia was relieved not to feel the blinding and withering pain from before. Timidly, she allowed them to open entirely. The details from earlier today were hazy. The room was neutrally decorated but it was clear where she was. The maternity ward bustled with people and she watched a heaving pregnant mother waddled by her door. Her eyes slid over to the man huddled in the chair across from her bed. His face was familiar, but Olivia couldn't picture where she knew him. Her eyes narrowed questionably and teeth sunk into her lower lip. They quickly withdrew and tongue slid over the white liquid stiches. Swallowing, she felt the scratchiness of her throat and stretched for the glass of ice. She picked it up and hesitantly took a few chips into her mouth. Sucking on the chips, Olivia watched the man stir and quietly placed the cup on the stand again.

Rubbing his eyes, he sheepishly sat up and ran a hand through his matted hair. She watched him curiously. A light hum of medication still seemed to course through her body. He cleared his throat reflexively and sat straighter in the bed. It seemed to be a test of wills. She was dying to ask who he was. Her eyes would occasionally narrow but relax again. He didn't seem eager to share any information. She was not sure how to proceed. She didn't want to bluntly ask, who the hell are you, but she was growing anxious. Pursing her lips, she swallowed and twisted the blanket in between her fingers. Her eyes shifted briefly to the various machines in the room. She could feel the heavy pulsing of her heart and watched the machine dial her heartbeat. It was steady and strong.

"Sir, do I know you," Olivia asked politely.

"No ma'am," He spoke freely.

His voice was rough and gentle. The dark timbre held a scratchy quality as if he had been drinking or smoking for too long. She couldn't be sure which it was. She wasn't too keen to ask. Suddenly, the realization became clear as she recognized the man's face. He was the homeless man who sat at the various monuments. Her mouth opened in recognition and she nodded despite not saying anything. She swallowed and nodded again, but no words left her lips. The morning was hazy. She remembered entering the Mall and sitting on her usual park bench. She remembered enjoying the cold and looking forward to Christmas. Then, the details broke off. Olivia took a deep breath and attempted to formulate the rest of her day. There had to be a reason how she had ended up in the hospital. They don't admit you into the hospital reason for no reason.

Was she in labor?

"Sir, do you know why I am here," She asked again curiously.

"You do not remember," He cocked his head and tsk'd, "Well, they were afraid of that."

Suddenly, it dawned on Olivia that he wasn't wearing his usual attire. Somehow, he had traded in the holey and weirdly patched heavy coat for a pair of pressed blue scrubs. She wondered what he had done with his typical clothing. Although, she suspected that he hadn't relinquished his clothing of his own account. There was a large bag by the chair that seemed to put her questioning mind to rest. As she lay in a hospital bed, she still was nagged by questions about everything and everyone. The pressed blue scrubs suited him well. The long white-sleeved shirt was tucked neatly beneath shirt. He shifted beneath her inquisitive glance and folded his hands on her lap. She cleared her throat but quickly regretted her actions. It was far too sore. Her hand reflexively drew across the skin and winced. If she had a mirror, Olivia ventured to believe there was a bruise.

"What happened to me," She asked hoarsely.

"You were in an accident, ma'am. You were crossing the street and…" He paused effectively, "A car hit you full speed. The damn bastard just kept driving. They are still looking for him." He shook his head angrily and muttered darkly beneath his breath.

There was an effectively large gap in her memory. When she closed her eyes and attempted to draw it forth, nothing came. Taking a deep breath, she tried to fill in the blanks. She just remembered sitting on the bench. She didn't even remember donating to him. It was her daily routine. Why had he even accompanied to the hospital? Who had allowed that? She didn't want to be cruel but that seemed entirely against protocol. Not to mention, what had happened to her things? Her wallet, cell phone, and clothes? The team had to be looking for her. They couldn't be witless to think that she just wouldn't show up the scene. Releasing a contemptuous breath, she met his gaze again.

"What happened to my belongings," Olivia pressed.

"Well, they confiscated a lot of it. I imagine that your clothes are in a bag similar to mine, but I wouldn't want to keep those, lass. Those pretty Vera Wang—"

Her jaw rudely dropped. He recognized designer labels, who was this guy?

"A man can't appreciate good taste," He asked bewildered, "Anyway, they are ruined, love. The car compressed much of your wallet and drove away with it on its tires. Your mobile is dead and screen cracked, but I don't think it's entirely useless."

She nodded but groaned at the sudden starling nausea that washed over her. Her head spun and ears rang. She trembled and stomach sank further. She felt the need to heave and Olivia gulped loudly, vomiting was the last thing that she wished to do. Absently, her eyes shifted and finally took in her state. She noticed the large bruises on her arms. The bright coloring had begun. Large red patches of clear blood bruises and the boisterous swelling clearly interpreted the harm. Her right arm, lovely – her dominant hand, was efficiently wrapped in a soft cast. Clearly, the doctors hadn't wanted to decompress her arm into something binding. She could tell from the solid splints encompassing her arms that it was only temporary. Olivia gently flexed her fingers and was grateful that there was still easy mobility. She sighed and tensed her toes as well.

Nothing.


Hello darlings,

How are you all? I cannot thank you enough for the overwhelming support that I received from this community. All of you have been so willing to reach out and always ready to help. You guys rock! Thank you so much. The reviews have been so kind and I'm glad that you liked the first chapter. I wasn't sure how this would be received because there are quite a few "Livie has a baby" stories. If I can't set mine apart, I hope that you'll love it just as much as the greats. As always, I love to hear what you think - good and bad. All of it.

If you are lost at the end of this chapter, never fear. I'll explain everything in chapter four. If you aren't, I would love to hear your predictions of what happened or what's wrong. 3

I am very anxious about your reactions to this chapter. I was nervous about posting it especially with this ending.

Also, I'm glad that everyone loves the homeless guy. He's going to be a prominent character in this fic.

Everyone has a story, right? (;

xoxo, S