A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for the kind words. I'm so glad you've been enjoying the story so far.

Happy Reading!

Jen

buttercup0303

Chapter 2

Sam left Sonny's compound and drove aimlessly. With Danny having a sleepover with Monica and his Aunt Tracy, Sam was at loose ends. Maybe she would head over to GH and try to catch Patrick on a break. She needed desperately to talk to him about what she'd felt earlier, and she knew that he of all people would understand how she'd felt.

Knowing she wasn't in a good head space just yet, Sam kept driving, following some inner urge that seemed to be directing her towards the edge of town. Sam was thinking about turning around when an SUV came barreling towards her, headlights blinding her. Sam yanked the steering wheel to the side, screeching to a halt as the SUV just barely avoided sideswiping her and kept on going.

"Lunatic." Sam muttered, shaking her head angrily. She eased back onto the road, pulling forward, all thoughts of turning around erased from her mind by her near miss.

And suddenly there it was. Sam slammed on her brakes as her headlights spotlighted the man lying in a crumpled, broken heap on the ground.

"Oh God, no." She whispered, wondering how someone could be so cruel as to hit someone and then drive away, leaving their victim to die. Memories of her own experience with a hit and run made her even more sympathetic.

Sam pulled her car to the side of the road and grabbing her cell, dialed 911 as she ran forward. Dropping to her knees, she reached out and gently took the stranger's pulse.

An inordinate amount of relief surged through her upon finding his pulse, weak and thready though it was. Speaking quickly to the dispatcher, she explained the situation and gave directions to where they were. Tossing her phone down beside her, she leaned over the seriously injured man.

He was a big man, with broad shoulders and a thickly muscled body. His dirty blonde hair was matted with blood and his face. Oh God, his face.

Sam's heart broke as she studied his bloody, swollen, misshapen face. He was unrecognizable.

"I don't know if you can hear me, but my name is Sam. You're gonna be alright. Help is on the way. Just hold on, okay." She crooned, carefully lifting his hand and clasping it between hers.

Suddenly, his body spasmed and his eyes fluttered open, brilliant blue eyes wheeling around in his head. He keened in pain, going stiff.

"Shh, shh. Please, try not to move. I know you're hurting, and I am so sorry. Just listen to my voice, okay? It's going to be okay." She assured him, staring at him. Those eyes. That brilliant blue color, she thought in confusion, unable to make sense of the immediate feeling of recognition at the brief glimpse of his eyes. He moaned again, the pain in his voice palpable, and it was tearing her apart.

Jason lay, frozen in a cloud of agony, unable to break through the fog. Pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before arced through him. Someone was talking to him, but he couldn't make out the words through the pain. And then, it was as if the clouds parted and sun shone down on him. That voice.

"I know you." He whispered. At least, he tried to say that. All that came out was a garbled grunt, as even the slightest movement left him in torment. He clung to her sweet voice as she tried to comfort him, until he was dragged back into the darkness.

Sam strained to see if she could make anything out of his unintelligible grunts, but it was impossible. Instead, she found herself whispering nonsense to him, hoping her voice would soothe him. She knew the moment he succumbed to the pain, because his entire body slackened.

She heard the sirens before she saw the blinking lights of the ambulance screech to a stop. She looked up at the sound of feet pounding on the pavement as two paramedics took one look at the hit and run victim and dropped to their knees, immediately setting to work to stabilize him before loading him onto the stretcher.

"Patient is suffering from maxillofacial trauma, numerous lacerations and broken bones, as far as I can tell he has fractures to the tibia, fibula, and femur, ribs, hips, and pelvis. Patient has lost a lot of blood, and is unconscious. Ma'am has he regained consciousness at any point?"

Sam blanched as she listened to them rattle off a list of his injuries.

"Ma'am? Has he regained consciousness at any point?" The paramedic repeated in annoyance. Sam shook herself and rushed to respond.

"Sorry, sorry. Uh, yeah. He was alert for a little while but he passed out again. He tried to talk but I couldn't understand him." She explained quickly.

The paramedic never looked up from where she was pressing gauze to his open wounds.

"I'm not surprised ma'am. It looks like his jaw and cheekbones were fractured. This poor man." She shook her head and kept working.

"Sam?"

Sam lifted her head and met Dante's eyes.

"Hey, are you okay? Were you involved in the accident?"

Sam stood up, reluctantly dragging her eyes from the injured man to turn to Dante. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"No, no. I um, I found him in the street like that. Who does something like this? Hits a man and then leaves him on the road like garbage?" She asked, angry on his behalf.

Dante shook his head, his forehead furrowed.

"I don't know, Sam. But we're gonna find them and make them pay, whoever it was. Did you see something, anything that could help us?" He pulled out a notepad and pen, poised to jot down anything she might share.

Sam ran her hand through her hair and closed her eyes briefly, trying to recall what she'd seen.

"You know, I did see a SUV. In fact, they were speeding past me so fast that I had to jerk my car over to the side of the road. They barely missed hitting me."

Dante leaned forward in interest.

"Do you think that was the driver that hit John Doe over there?"

Momentarily distracted, Sam opened her eyes and glanced over to where the paramedics were still working on him.

"John Doe?" She asked, disconcerted. "You mean, he didn't have any ID or anything?"

Dante shook his head.

"Nothing. So we're going with John Doe until we can run his prints and see if we can get a hit on him."

Sam nodded, her eyes still on the stranger. She stiffened when she saw them pushing the stretcher towards the ambulance. She turned back to Dante.

"Look, can we do this later? I want to ride in the ambulance with him. I mean, he doesn't have anybody right now and I found him and I…" She trailed off, unable to explain why she wanted to stay with him.

Dante nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, yeah, no worries. Go ahead. Just do me a favor, come by the station in the morning to give your statement, okay? If you wanna give me your keys, I'll make sure your car gets to the hospital for you."

Sam nodded her thanks, handed him her keys, and ran after the paramedics.

"Wait! Can I come with him? Please." She pleaded. The paramedics looked at each other before shrugging. One of them stretched out his hand and helped her climb in before slamming the doors behind her and getting behind the wheel, driving away, sirens blaring.

Sam sat beside him, his hand once again in hers.

"I'm here with you. You're going to be alright." She whispered, staring down at the battered man. She didn't bother asking herself why she cared so much. She just knew that she did.

Suddenly, the machines hooked up to him started screaming and the paramedic beside her jumped into action.

"Hurry, Brock! He's coding!" She shouted up front, while working frantically to save the patient. Sam watched with wide eyes, silently willing him to live.

"Don't give up. Just stay with me and I promise I'll stay with you and help you through this." She whispered, leaning closer to his head. She didn't even know why she'd made that promise. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach in knots as she stared at the flat line traveling across the screen. She didn't breathe again until the line went wavy as the paramedic brought him back. Sam stared down at him, tears of relief welling in her eyes.

…

He floated on a cloud of pain, unsure of his surroundings, trapped in his broken body, unable to scream for help, to beg for relief from the unrelenting torment. There was one thing keeping him clinging to the edge of sanity and turning away from the beckoning light; the woman who had found him. Her voice was calling to him, a soothing balm easing over him. He had to get back to her. He turned away from the light and went towards her voice. He didn't know why but he knew instinctively that he would always fight to get to her.