Accident and Emergency is on the ground floor. It's expectedly chaotic, but I don't notice any other patient when my eyes are darting around frantically in search of a hospital employee to help me. I was level-headed enough when I got here, but after being treated like I'm invisible for the last five minutes, I'm as good as insane. I've been stopping every nurse, orderly and doctor asking for assistance but they all brush me off. I think I might just go crazy if someone doesn't tell me something about Nathan.

"Excuse me!"

I rush to a man dressed in vomit-green hospital scrubs, stopping him as he walks past. I won't let one more person ignore me.

"I'm looking for my husband. Nathan Scott. He was in a bus accident—"

"Please take a seat and you'll be assisted."

I grab his arm before he walks away, telling him firmly with my fingers desperately clutching at him, "No. Please. Please help me. I'm begging you. I…I need to see him."

My voice is cracking and I blink back my tears. I've had it up to here with their ignoring me.

I release the man's arm. Holding Jamie closer to me, I let out a shaky breath, my chin quivering. "Please. You have to help me. I just want to know what's going on."

He looks at me for a moment and then says, "Wait here."

8.43PM.

It's only been seven minutes since he told me to wait, seven minutes of pure terror and dread. With Jamie dozing off on my lap, I've been on this stiff chair for those seven minutes, desperately waiting for the man to come back and tell me something. Anything to lower the anxiety that has been accelerating with each passing second.

In the midst of this, I see members of the Dale Vultures being transported in and out of curtained partitions, covered in blood and bandages, eyes closed or glazed over. All faces I know.

College students are floating through the doors with worry on their faces to check on their friends. Several times, I hear Nathan's name mentioned. Not once do I turn in the direction of their teary voices. It's a stressful situation for everyone, and I sit in my corner in the trauma bay, waiting for news with my head bowed.

I think I'm a little in shock, even though I'm awake and present. Nervously, I keep biting my lower lip, and at some point I must have bitten down so hard on it that I drew blood. I keep telling myself to stay calm, if not for my own composure at least for Jamie's. I don't want to scare him.

"Am I getting a shot?" he mumbles.

"No."

"But it's a hospital."

"You're not getting a shot."

"Why are we here?"

Tears are in my eyes as I hold him tighter and kiss the top of his head. "No shots, I promise."

Just then, I see the man in scrubs. I get up immediately as he approaches me. This time, I take a moment to look at his badge: John Schrocke, R.N.

"Is he all right?"

"Your husband is up in surgery and it's going to be a while."

His voice is steady, a characteristic he must have gotten from handling all manner of worked up patients and relatives.

"Why…what really happened to him?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know the details but he's not in very good shape."

Jamie's head is lying on my shoulder and I rub his hair just so I can keep it together. I refuse to dwell on the heaviness of his words.

"You should go up to the ICU and wait until someone comes to talk to you."

"Thank you," I whisper hoarsely.

It feels as though someone has cut my throat and bled it dry. Everything is just becoming worse since those police officers showed up at our door.

Adjusting Jamie on my hip, I walk to the elevators slowly. I am not at all prepared for what they'll tell me up in ICU.

"Mommy, where's Daddy?" he asks me sleepily.

Every nuance of tonight is so searing that I can't open my mouth to speak. What do I tell him? I don't even know what is going on.

"He's on his way home."

We've been here for five hours.

Jamie fell asleep and I laid him out on the couch in the ICU's waiting room. Downing cup after cup of bitter coffee, I've been walking to the nurse's desk every half hour asking about Nathan's surgery. Thirty minutes that always feels like thirty years. The lean nurse keeps telling me the same thing: I'll let you know as soon as I know anything. Don't they talk to each other?

There was a point in the last five hours where I was close to running down the hospital corridors, screaming while pulling my hair out. What are they doing to him that takes five hours? My mind hasn't quit jumping from one horrible situation to the next, and it has all made me feel physically ill.

Waiting for the countdown before I head back to the nurses' station for the ten-thousandth time, I swallow hard and turn to Jamie. He's sleeping on his stomach, his legs wide apart; he sprawls in bed like a crab. One leg is peeking out from underneath my jacket that I used as a blanket for him. It was only a few days ago that Nathan was carrying him to bed after he fell asleep the same way on our overstuffed couch. It's hard to reconcile the memory of then to what is happening right now.

"Mrs. Scott?"

A man in blue scrubs and a thick head of greying hair is looking at me. I didn't hear him come in.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Overbeck, the trauma surgeon attending to your husband."

I'm on my feet immediately, reaching for his outstretched hand. Mine feels lifeless in his strong grip. "How is he? What happened to him?"

His mahogany-dark eyes lock on mine. "Your husband was brought to the emergency room in very critical condition earlier this evening. A trailer truck hit the bus they were in. Both drivers did not make it and most of the players have bruises, broken arms and legs, but none is in a serious condition like your husband."

"Why? Wasn't he wearing a seat belt?"

Nathan doesn't ride that bus without wearing a seat belt. He never used to bother buckling up, but after we had Jamie, he coached himself into making it a habit. The Vultures teased him about it, but when he told them that he planned to be alive for his son's sake, they took it as a point of pride and never mentioned it again.

"He had the belt on, but he was closer to the point of collision, just an empty seat behind the driver. When the crash happened, he bore quite an impact."

The way he's looking at me, the way he's saying everything, it's serious.

"Why was he in surgery?"

"His brain was haemorrhaging."

My hands fly to my mouth. I'm shivering. That was the last thing I expected to hear. He had brain surgery. They were operating on his brain.

"Your husband suffered a direct hit to the head, causing his brain to bleed. The shot of TXA we gave him when he was brought in reduced his chances of dying from a haemorrhage and organ failure. We—"

"Organ failure?"

He nods. "His kidney received a blow, his lung collapsed and he had compressive pelvic injuries. He lost a lot of blood and we're currently giving him a transfusion. He also sprained his neck from the collision and broke some ribs. An accident like that makes his spine vulnerable to injury, but we can't tell the extent of the damage until the swelling comes down."

This is like a scene from a medical drama. I wonder when the director will yell 'cut!' and I can go back to my trailer for some R&R. During that time, I could drop by a hospital and donate some blood, visit with children or—

"Mrs. Scott?"

I switch my brain's gears back to him. "Yes?"

I know I sound scared.

"Your husband went into cardiac arrest during surgery and he flat lined for about half a minute before we brought him back. We intubated him and he's now breathing with the assistance of a ventilator. Once he was stabilized, we were able to operate on his left shoulder."

I run a shaky hand through my hair. Flat lined. Half a minute. Thirty seconds.

"Can I see him?"

He shakes his head. "He may be post-op, but he's sensitive to infection so soon after surgery. I can allow you to see him tomorrow, however."

I stare at a minuscule crack on the linoleum floor, chewing on my thumbnail, processing everything he's told me in the last few minutes.

"Mrs. Scott."

Could it be any worse?

"Your husband has slipped into a coma."

A terrible sensation comes over me, my vision dims, and darkness closes in and swallows me whole.

"Mrs. Scott."

My eyelids flutter open slowly as I come to. There's a bright white light that's blinding me. I shut my eyes quickly, wanting that thing to get away from me.

"Mrs. Scott?"

Someone is rubbing the back of my head. My eyes fly open to the vision of blue above me. The colour starts to waver, a face replacing it. One I don't know.

"Where am I?"

"The hospital. You fainted."

The face is coming to focus; wrinkles, tight smile, harsh features. Him.

I raise myself up quickly and feel a sharp pain at the back of my head. Hissing, I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger.

"You may have a concussion. I need to examine you."

I brush his hand away. "No. I'm fine."

"Concussions are not something to be taken lightly."

"I'm okay."

I've never fainted in my life. Not on Fiona Walker's sixth birthday party when I ran into three clowns in the kitchen. Not after passing by a gory car accident scene with copious amounts of blood when I was thirteen. The doctor tells me that Nathan is in a coma and I kiss the floor.

He looks at his watch, raises two fingers. "You were out for close to a minute. Can you tell me what you're seeing?"

My eyes travel around the room seeking out Jamie. He's still sound asleep on the couch. "My son. I'll be fine, Doctor, but I could use some help getting up."

Dr. Overbeck assists me off the floor and leads me to one of the chairs. With every step, lightning bolts move through my skull.

"Thank you. I'll be all right."

He stands over me for a moment, and then I hear him leave.

What's happening? Am I in a nightmare? That's it. That's what's happening. There's something wreaking havoc in my dreams, causing me to believe that I'm in a hospital's ICU thinking that my husband is in a coma. After an accident that caused his brain to bleed and could leave him paralyzed.

Gulping, I lean back against the chair. The heaviness and pain in my head feels real enough.

"Your husband has slipped into a coma."

My soul feels occupied by the greatest fear and uncertainty. How did we get here? How did we get from happy days to such a bleak time?

A tremor goes through me. My body shakes from a central point so deep that tears start to fall uncontrollably over my eyes. Trembling, I hold a hand over my mouth and weep quietly.

"Hello?"

He sounds groggy.

"Hey. It's me."

"Hey, buddy. How's it going?"

I chew on my thumbnail. "I know it's late and I'm sorry I woke you, but..."

"What's wrong?"

I don't know what to say without freaking him out, but there's no way around this. "There was an accident, Luke. Nathan was in surgery and…and he's not okay."

My voice is weak and shaky. I bite down on my bruised lip and blink repeatedly to keep from crying. If I start now, I won't stop.

"Where are you? The university hospital?"

I nod. I realize that he can't see me. "Yes. ICU."

I can hear rustling over the phone.

"How bad is it?"

"Very bad. He's in a coma."

His shocked whisper lingers over the line for a moment. "Give me a couple of hours to get there."

"Please be careful, Luke."

"Hello?"

"Hi, Deb."

"Haley? Hi!"

She sounds happy. I hate doing this to her. "Are you okay? I tried calling your cell but it's off."

"I'm fine. I didn't have it with me and we just got back to the house. How is everything?"

"Deb…"

"What is it? What's wrong? Is it Jamie? Nathan?"

Yes.

"It's Nathan. He—"

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's in a coma."

"Where, Haley?"

Gone is the giddiness.

"The university hospital. Deb…could you please call Karen? And Whitey?"

I can't do this anymore than I have to.

"I will. I'm on my way, honey."

She has really been good to me these last few years.

"Thank you."

"Hey, Hales."

"Hi, Peyt. Where are you?"

"On my way home. Please tell me that you're not calling to cancel lunch tomorrow? I've been looking forward to it all week."

There's the sound of a car honking endlessly. Peyton's a daring driver. I hope she didn't run a red light.

"I need to tell you something, Peyton."

"Haley, what's wrong?"

"There was an accident. Nathan's in the hospital."

"What hospital?"

"Dale's. ICU. Can you come?"

"I'm already on my way."

Nathan's ex, and now one of my best friends. Didn't see that one coming any more than the tutor and the jock falling for each other.

"You've reached Brooke Davis. Leave a message and I'll get back to you!"

"Brooke, it's me. Haley. Nathan…Nathan was in an accident and he's at the university hospital. Call me when you get this. Bye."

That was the easiest of all the calls I've made.

I feel a memorable headache coming on.