Author's Note: Thanks, as always, to those reading and especially reviewing - it's always nice to hear your thoughts on what you liked or didn't. Hope you're still enjoying this!

Six

"Jac, how is he?"

Darwin's inimitable Jac Naylor turned towards Sam and, for a moment, the paramedic couldn't read the expression on her face and her breath seemed to catch in her throat.

"Well, I tend to take anything less than a full recovery from my patients as a personal insult," the surgeon shrugged coolly, her arms folded over her chest. "So you better make sure Iain knows that when you see him."

"Oh, thank god," Sam exhaled, relief flooding over her as the implication of that sank in and she realised Gemma was crying for much the same reason, with Ruby awkwardly patting her shoulder.

"He kept us on our toes," Jac admitted. "And he's not quite out of the woods yet, but we're getting there and, all in all, I'd say he was actually pretty lucky. I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but it could have been a lot worse. What the hell happened out there? I heard there's an F2 recovering on Keller and I can't seem to stop my staff chattering like teenage girls, but you know what this place can be like for Chinese whispers …"

"Probably all true this time," Sam sighed. "Unfortunately. The police are looking for Eddie McAllister, the F1 – seems he attacked Alicia Munroe at her home and then Iain and Ruby here got caught up in it on the call-out."

"Jesus," Jac said, taking that in as her sharp gaze drifted to finally properly take in Ruby's injuries. "You're new? Quite the baptism of fire by the sound of it."

"It … It probably looks worse than it is," Ruby managed, touching a self-conscious hand to her fresh stitches. "Iain got the worst of it."

"No kidding," Jac said, raising a wry eyebrow. "Takes more than a bumped head to end up on my table. Anyway, I really should get back."

"Can we see Iain?" Gemma asked, trying to sniffle back tears and wiping at her eyes with a well-crumpled tissue. "Someone should be there when he wakes up."

"One at a time, but yes, I'll allow it," Jac said, glancing at Sam. "It really should be family only, but I can't see anyone complaining about a patient having their own personal paramedic on standby. I think we can allow a little leeway, under the circumstances."

"Thanks, Jac – I appreciate it."

"You sure you don't want to go get some rest though? It could be a long night and I can assure you, Iain's in good hands. It could be a while before he comes round …"

"I'm staying," Gemma said immediately, a determined streak just like her brother's flaring up.

"Yeah, thanks, but I'll stay too," Sam said.

"I thought you might say that," Jac nodded, casting a knowing look at the paramedic that made Sam inwardly roll her eyes and realise there was probably nothing that got past Jac Naylor.

Not on her turf anyway, and as far as the surgeon was concerned, the whole damn hospital was her turf.

Feeling her eyes drifting closed out of sheer exhaustion, Alicia forced them open again and fixed her gaze firmly on the ceiling of the dimly lit ward. She was supposed to be resting, but she didn't dare go to sleep. How could she with Eddie still out there somewhere?

The hospital never really slept either, not well at least. There was always something or someone contributing to the low hum of noise – staff coming and going, their rubber soles occasionally squeaking on the tiled floors, or patients shifting restlessly, or snoring, or emitting the occasional moans of pain.

It was quieter than the ED though, where sometimes nights could be the most frantic and the loudest. But in that relative quiet of Keller, it was all the easier for every footstep and shadow to make her tense. She couldn't help it. Her head might tell her that this would be the last place he would go, but she still couldn't make herself believe it. Part of her was … waiting.

Because he had to know the mess this whole situation had now become. That the whole story of the attack on her and stabbing Iain would finish him for good, even if the police couldn't make the rape charge stick.

So with nothing left to lose, in her mind there was every chance he might decide to finish her too.

And she saw him reach for her every time she closed her eyes, leaving her biting back a scream of terror and fighting to tell herself he'd have to be crazy to try it. Not that it helped much.

After all, that hadn't exactly held him back so far.

It had taken more selflessness than she thought she possessed to let Gemma go see her brother first, watching from the window into the small side-room as the girl sat by his bedside and tearfully scolded him for getting hurt. Save for the livid line of neat stitches down his chest and the host of machines he was hooked up to, he looked oddly peaceful though – Sam, who had often claimed that the only time Iain was quiet was when he was asleep, wasn't sure she liked it. Sure, she knew he needed the time to heal and recover, but she'd rather have him up and cracking jokes. Even bad ones.

She leaned her head against the cool glass, pulling his hoodie tighter around her as tiredness crept into her muscles, only to glance around at the soft clearing of a throat from behind her. Ruby, looking as sheepish and somehow out of place as always.

"I brought more tea," the rookie said, holding out a polystyrene cup.

"Thanks," Sam said, summoning a slight smile. "Listen, Ruby, you should go home and get some rest. No one will think any the less of you for calling it a night under the circumstances, honest."

"I … I feel like I should at least say thank you. For saving me," Ruby said, looking through the glass at their unconscious colleague. "And sorry, that this awful thing happened. I don't want him to think I … don't care. About the team."

Realising just how hard the young woman was trying to figure out her place, Sam sighed. She really was trying and they probably could have made it easier for her, if they were honest. And what a start she was enduring in a new career that always had the potential to be tough anyway – no wonder the poor girl looked dazed.

"Phone," Sam said, holding out her hand. "Give me your phone. I'm going to text mine from yours, that way I'll have your number and I'll let you know how he is when he's awake. Okay?"

"Okay," Ruby nodded, watching as Sam punched a few buttons and then handed the phone back as her own beeped in the back pocket of her jeans.

"There," Sam said. "Now, go on – go home, Ruby. I'll tell Iain you were asking for him. Try not to worry."

"You too," Ruby said solemnly, making Sam smile in that way that said she would do her best.

All while she thought there was fat chance of that.

Much as she had desperately wanted to trade places with Gemma and see for herself that her partner was as well as could be expected, it didn't stop Sam feeling awkward when the time came. Bedside vigils were for family, weren't they? What right did she have to be there?

But then she was perching on the edge of a chair by Iain's side and reaching out to slowly let her fingers lace through his, taking care not to disturb the butterfly cannula in the back of his hand.

Unfazed by the machines just doing their job, unlike most people who found themselves in this position, Sam did find that it helped just to feel the warmth of his hand under hers as she watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was still a far cry from his usual self, but infinitely preferable to the pale, cold figure that had been slumped on Alicia's floor in a growing pool of blood.

"You had me scared, Iain Dean," she admitted in a low whisper. "But I'll let you off with a warning if you just wake up and tell me you're okay. Not that even you would dare tarnish Jac Naylor's record. The Ice Queen you called her, remember? Even though you've clearly got the hots for her. You and every bloke who's never had to work that closely with her …"

Her thumb rubbed softly over his, tenderly, finding herself powerless to stop her mind drifting back to Afghanistan. To the good times they'd shared, even in such a terrible place. Long days and nights of unpredictability, camaraderie, craziness. To excitement and laughter under the hot desert sun.

And sometimes, just sometimes, lazy early mornings - when fleeting moments of peace let her wake up beside him, not to the sound of gunfire and explosions or the urgent crackle of a radio, but to the soft graze of fingertips or lips on her bare skin that always drew a smile or a little sigh of contentment from her.

God, he'd made it clear from the moment they'd first laid eyes on each other that he was attracted and she couldn't really deny it had been mutual. So he'd been flirty and persistent and, when he got what he wanted, passionate and she definitely hadn't had any complaints. But it was those quiet dawn mornings that had made it increasingly hard to remind herself it was only supposed to be a bit of fun. Respite from the reality of her failing marriage and life back home.

In those rare stolen moments, tangled up in his arms and sheets as the first rays of light spilled through cracks in the curtains, she realised she could have fallen for him. If she had let herself.

An affair with a squaddie …

Dylan had made it sound so sordid. And she could hardly blame the man who was supposed to be her husband, or try to correct him. But if it was that, it was on her. Not Iain. In his defence, she hadn't exactly been upfront about her marital situation. And by the time she did come clean … Well, it was already too late.

They'd been sleeping together for weeks when she finally let her guilty conscience get the better of her. She still didn't even know whether that guilt was for cheating on Dylan or deceiving Iain. Probably both. Either way, she'd blurted out the truth in horribly blunt fashion, for once leaving her fellow soldier lost for words.

"Shit, Sam …"

That had been all she'd gotten out of him before he hauled himself out of bed and into his boxers, leaving her to watch that huge eagle tattooed across his back as he retrieved his khakis from the pile of clothes on the floor, hating the look on his face that seemed dangerously close to hurt when he finally shot her a glance while shoving his feet into his boots. Anger would be one thing, but hurt and what that might mean was something else entirely.

"Iain …"

It had hung over them like a dark cloud for two days before he finally cracked and stopped trying to avoid her – quite the opposite actually, seeking her out in what passed for a quiet corner where he could confront her without dozens of prying eyes on them. And, of course, he'd wanted to know why she told him, as if she'd planned it rather than simply blurting it out.

"Because it feels like you're drawing a line in the sand. Only problem, Sam, is I don't think I know which side of it you're on."

"I'm on your side now," Sam whispered, her fingers tightening around his to squeeze gently. "Please wake up, Iain. I need you to be okay. I … I don't know what I'd do without you ..."

All in all, no one slept much that night, although Gemma did manage to doze off for an hour or two, curled up on a sofa in the waiting room under her coat.

But on Keller, Alicia felt like she was awake to hear every footstep in the whole hospital, even as her exhausted body cried out for sleep.

And at home, Ruby couldn't manage more than an hour without waking up to check her phone for news – even though she knew she should be resting and the blue light emitted by her screen wasn't exactly conducive to that. She did try to tell herself it was for the best that she didn't sleep too long undisturbed, as you couldn't be too careful with concussion and she didn't exactly have anyone to hand who could check on her. She just hoped she wasn't going to find herself having to get straight back to work in the morning, not that she would have refused given the staffing circumstances.

Although a text message in the early hours - which initially made her sit up hastily, thinking it might be from Sam – soon cleared that up, with Jan insisting she take a couple of days off as an unlikely sounding trio of "Rocker, Baz and Kylie" had been rounded up to help.

Meanwhile, Sam had found that her eyes must have drifted closed of their own accord, only for the beeping of one of the machines hooked up to Iain to send her jerking awake again, instantly alert despite the tiredness.

"Iain?" she tried, automatically reaching to manually double-check the pulse at his neck.

It was probably right around the same time that Eddie's anxious mother reached out to smooth a lock of his hair as he slept fitfully on her sofa, having turned up on the doorstep wide-eyed and dishevelled.

She'd had to pretend to herself that the dark stains on his jeans were just mud. She could tell herself that though. That was easier to account for than the alternative, even for a doctor.

That was easier, given his frantic state, than blood.