Yep, I don't own the Bill. Just the idea of this story.

I wish I owned the Bill. If I did it'd still be on.

It'd be on at 8pm.

And Stampy would have stayed.

Bless him.

Enough of my complaining!

Enjoy!

Sam woke up in a hospital bed. She knew that much before she even opened her eyes. It was the smell of the room around her that gave it away, it was the stale disinfectant smell that tore at your nose. There was a pause as she tried to remember how she got there. Jimmy's terrified face in the window, she couldn't breath, her father. Who'd taken her to the hospital? Her parents wouldn't have. Her father couldn't let the police know. If they found out they'd pry into his life, into his business and that couldn't happen. Her Mother wouldn't have for the same reasons, grouped with the fact she was almost as evil as her husband and cared little for her eldest two children.

It was the cardinal rule. No one found out what he did to her. No one.

Then who took her there?

God she was in pain. Her head pounded and she felt like her stomach had been ripped to pieces.

Sam knew she had to open her eyes. She had to find out what happened to her. She couldn't legislate feeling this bad. Had her father looked in her room after she passed out and found her films? Found her application for the police force? That would have thrown him over the edge for sure.

The room was, as she expected, like any other hospital room. It was badly lit by a couple of lights, one above her and one as a bedside lamp. There were shutter blinds over the panes of glass that, she could only assume, looked further into the hospital. Other than that there was nothing much else. Her bed and a chair to it's side and a couple of books and other objects that looked like someone's personal possessions. Sam raised her hand to her head as it throbbed in pain. Holding both sides, one in each hand, and gently applying pressure she found the pain lessened, just like it did with the headaches she often got.

She'd been in that position for less than three minutes when the door opened and a police officer entered. She was fairly young in Sam's eyes. Early to mid twenties, shorter than average height, black or dark brown hair, it was hard to tell in the light. Looking to the bed she saw Sam's current position. "Sam!" The woman stuck her head back out of the door. "She's awake! Go get the doctor!"

"No." The officer looked at Sam who'd started to struggle against not only the wires in her arms but also her bodies inability to move.

"Sam, you've been seriously hurt. You need to calm down."

"No. Go away. You're not meant to be here. Get out."

A second officer entered. He was young, like the woman. But tall, very tall. Brown hair and a fairly handsome face. "Sam, chill yeah! It's us. You're safe with us."

Sam started to cry. Her body was complaining from the abuse her straining had put it through and she needed them to leave before her family got there. She would be dead for sure if they found police officers in her room, even if she didn't say anything. "GET OUT! YOU CAN'T BE HERE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

A doctor came running into the room and Sam started to sob incoherently.

"She's distressed-"

"NO SHIT I AM! GET THEM OUT!"

"-You have to leave." The officers grudgingly obeyed and left the room, the girl started to talk into her radio as she left. The doctor closed the door behind them and started to address Sam. "You've been asleep for some time now. Do you think you can you tell me what happened?"

Sam tried to regain control of her breath and angrily wiped at tears still streaming down her face, the bandage on her hand easily soaking the tears.

"Aren't you meant to tell me who you are first?"

The doctor gave her a sceptical glance. "I'm Dr. Evans. I've been -" He stopped mid-sentence. "I think I'll start with the basics. What is your name?"

Sam glared at him. Was he an idiot? She knew her own name. And even if she had forgotten she wasn't so stupid to think that the officers were talking to another person in the empty room called 'Sam'.

He was insistent. "Your name?"

"Samantha Cicely Harrison."

"Do you know what the date is?"

"Of course I don't. You just told me I've been asleep for 'some time'." Sam took a mocking tone when mimicking him.

The doctor raised his eyebrows at her tone. "Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"Yes but you can't tell them. I know they're police but you have doctor patient confidentiality yeah? Whatever I say you can't repeat. I know I'm underage but it still applies." Evans had been nodding along as she spoke, but with a slight frown on his face. As she reached the end of her last sentence the frown deepened.

"How old are you, Sam?"

"Seventeen. I'm eighteen in four months. My birthday is the fourteenth of February."

"And the last thing you remember?"

"You haven't promised. Promise me you wont tell them."

"I… I don't think I can hold to that promise."

"You're a DOCTOR! You have to keep Doctor patient confidentiality!" Sam was sick of this guy. How they hell was his a doctor? He was an idiot. "I want Jimmy I'm not talking to you until you get him for me."

"Jimmy?"

Seriously? How slow was this guy. Sam's head hurt and she felt like she was going to throw up. "Yes, Jimmy. My best friend, Jimmy. The person who PROBABLY BROUGHT ME HERE, JIMMY! JIMMY, JAMES MATTHEW HAWKINS."

Doctor Evans frowned again. "If I can get him here will you tell me what happened?"

"I WANT JIMMY. I'M NOT GIVING YOU ANY ANSWERS UNTIL HE'S HERE."

"Okay, okay. I'll see what I can do. Are you in any pain?"

Sam mimicked his frown back at him. She had decided that he wasn't a real doctor as he kept on asking her stupid questions and only asked important ones after she said she wasn't going to talk to him anymore. Could he not see for himself that she has tears streaming down her face?

Well please let me know what you think! It would make me mightily happy!

Thanks.