Whoops…I get the feeling that it's been more than a couple of weeks since my last update. Sorry! Maybe it's a good thing that I got this cold I have now, because I watched three episodes of The O.C. the other day and all of a sudden-voila! New chapter!

Thank you all for the reviews and please keep them coming-I need more to my life at the moment than checking my tissue box to make sure there's another tissue left for me to use.

He couldn't remember getting to the hospital. It was all a bit of a blur after the voice on the other end of the phone spoke those awful words to him: "your wife's been in an accident." He couldn't even remember what he had told Seth and Ryan as an excuse-he didn't want to worry them until he knew how Kirsten was. Maybe it was just a concussion, a broken bone or some stitches. Maybe that was it. Of course that would be the extent of Kirsten's injuries. No point worrying the boys, definitely.

He didn't know exactly how long he had been at the hospital for but he did know that it was taking an extremely long time for a few stitches or putting a cast on a broken bone. He stood up impatiently and paced the floor, unable to sit still any longer. In his head, he made up excuse upon excuse as to why it was taking this long while never allowing himself to think that Kirsten's injuries were anything other than mild. He walked up and the hall until his legs almost gave way to tiredness. Only then did he return to his seat.

He made up some rules for Kirsten, so that she'd never give him a scare like this again. Rule one: no driving in the rain. She might like listening to it but it was clear that Kirsten and rain did not mix. Rule two: always let Kirsten go back to sleep if she wakes up early in the morning. Maybe she was sleep deprived and that had caused the accident. Rule three –

"Mr Cohen?"

Sandy quickly got up as he saw a doctor walking towards him.

"I'm Doctor Parker, I've been working on Kirsten."

"Where is she?" Sandy immediately asked. All he wanted to do was hold her hand and tell her about this crazy night.

"She's in the Intensive Care Unit."

A frown creased Sandy's forehead. Was she visiting someone there? Had they run out of rooms and put her up there?

"Mr Cohen," Doctor Parker repeated, "your wife was in a pretty serious accident. She's broken her right arm and there was some internal bleeding-that's all under control and taken care of. But she also suffered a head injury and we won't know the full extent of the damage that's done until the swelling of her brain has gone down a bit and until she's woken up."

Sandy didn't realise he had been staring at the doctor with his mouth open until a question formed on his lips. "What-what do you mean?"

"At the moment, your wife is in a coma," Dr Parker said gently. "Now, she could come out of it at any time but when she does, there might be some brain damage. Nothing's conclusive-there might be no brain damage. But you have to be prepared for the other possibility."

It was too much for Sandy to take in one go. He reached out for anything to support him, his hand clamping onto the back of the chair next to him. His legs felt shaky, wobbly and his body slumped forwards slightly. Kirsten-his Kirsten-was…was…

"Do you want me to take you to her?" came a soft voice sounding miles away.

Somehow, Sandy managed to nod his head and follow the doctor over to the ICU. But he was off in another world, trying to allow the reality of the words just spoken permeate him while desperately wishing he could rewind the clock to yesterday. Yesterday, when they'd spent the whole day at home, revelling in each other.

More words came from Doctor Parker but they flew past Sandy. He was sure they were meaningless, anyhow.

When they arrived at Kirsten's room, Sandy froze. Tubes and wires erupted from her body-an IV tube, monitors-which was also covered in bruises, cuts-angry looking things that had no right to defile Kirsten's body like that. He didn't notice the doctor leave the room, he was too busy observing the oxygen prongs that were helping Kirsten breathe. He wanted to take them off and tell the staff that she didn't need them to breathe. She didn't need any of the machines in the room, come to think of it. Beneath everything that was masking her body, Sandy could still easily recognise Kirsten's face. The lips he had kissed so many times before, that cute button nose of hers, the eyes-now shut-that had stared at him with anger, amusement, love, sadness-they were all still there. It was still Kirsten. And Kirsten would never need any of these useless machines to help her survive.

He pulled up a chair next to Kirsten's bed and sat on it, gently holding her hand. She didn't tighten her grip nor did she twine her fingers through his and it was then that Sandy realised this had actually happened. Kirsten was injured and might never be the same again. A wave of pain crashed into Sandy, so intense that he wanted nothing more than to cry out but his mouth stayed shut and his eyes remained dry. Instead, reality spurred Sandy into action. He had two sons that needed to be told about this and who would also need someone to be there for them who wasn't a broken heap. She was going to wake up-the doctor had said so-and Sandy wouldn't be any help to her, either, unless he was strong.

Standing up, Sandy promised Kirsten that he'd be back soon and walked out of the ICU into an area where cell phones were permitted. Taking a deep breath, he dialled home and told Seth what had happened, suggesting that he and Ryan take a cab over to the hospital. Turning his cell phone off again, Sandy allowed himself to briefly feel another dagger in his heart at the panic and shock in his son's voice before he turned around and returned to Kirsten.


He'd shooed the boys home at one that morning, insisting they try to get some sleep but refusing to leave himself. He couldn't leave her like this. Her condition hadn't worsened nor had it improved. People bustled in and out, continuously checking on her and although Sandy got the feeling that he was slightly in their way, he remained put.

When it was just the two of them in the room, he talked to her, hoping and praying that it would bring her back to him quicker. He decided it was best if he stuck to cheery topics, so he told her about surfing, golfing, how he felt the first time he saw her and even sang her a few musical numbers. The songs became more frequent as he ran out of cheerful topics and seemed to help him stay awake more than talking did.

At four twenty-eight, Sandy could swear he felt one of her fingers twitch while he held her hand.

At five nineteen, he was certain that he saw her eyelids flutter.

At five thirty-two, they fluttered again.

Sandy watched anxiously, completely awake now. His songs were forgotten and he begged her to wake up.

At five thirty-four, she granted his wish.

Her blue eyes groggily opened, and for the first few moments she neither moved nor seemed to be aware of her surroundings. But then her whole hand jerked, as if she had only just realised it was encased in Sandy's and her eyes, although still heavy with tiredness, looked over at him.

Sandy released the breath he didn't even know he had been holding and his face broke out into a smile. Kirsten's own face registered fear and confusion through a haze of sleepiness and painkillers.

"It's alright, honey-you're gonna be fine," Sandy assured her.

To his surprise, Kirsten seemed to slightly pull away from him. Her hand tried to release itself of his own with the little strength she had and Sandy's smile was replaced with a frown.

"Baby, what is it?" he asked gently. "Talk to me."

"Wh-who are you?" Kirsten whispered.

"It's me-it's Sandy!" he said, his eyes wide with surprise.

Her hand still twitched, trying to free itself of the hand that wouldn't let it go and Sandy leaned towards her, thinking that maybe her vision had been blurred by…something but Kirsten gasped as he got closer to her.

"Please," Kirsten begged. Her throat was sore and dry, unable to project anything more than a croak. "Help me!"

Sandy reeled back, as if he had been kicked in the guts and let go of her hand. A sickening realisation drew upon him.

"Don't you know…who I am?" he whispered.

"No, I don't!" Kirsten croaked. "Please-please go!"

Sandy slowly got to his feet, as if testing them out to see if they could support him. He walked out of Kirsten's room, turning around to look once more at that familiar face, those half asleep eyes that for some reason, didn't recognise him now. He was closing the door when Dr Parker turned around the corner, heading for the room.

"She's awake," Sandy announced flatly.

He slid down to the floor, resting on the wall behind him, and buried his face in his hands as the tears he'd been waiting all night to cry finally found their way out.

Do you want me to write more? Then review! (Please!)

(Sorry about how long it was between updates-I promise I'll try really hard not to let that happen again!)