A/N: "Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop." ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Thank you for reading and reviewing! The story is about to… begin ;)

Ashley

Breathing Underwater

Have you ever gone to take a swim at the beach, and got sucked in underneath by a crushing wave, tumbling you around to the bottom of the ocean? Have you ever opened your eyes underwater, regardless of salt and sand stinging your eyes, just in hope that you could see which way is up? Have you ever seen light underwater? And then darkness? And then light again, as your body begged for oxygen, but you just couldn't dare open your mouth? Have you ever felt that overbearing panic that weighed down so heavily on your chest, but you tried to stay calm no matter how close to that pitch darkness you came?

I wasn't sure if my eyes were open; there were the occasional bursts of bright white light, but it never lasted long. My body wasn't tumbling, but I was fighting something that was keeping me down. Or trying to. I could feel a stinging pain in my eyes, and a relentless searing pain shoot through my skull, worsening as I gasped desperately for air to fill my lungs.

As my chest constricted to take a much needed deep breath, more pain engulfed my body. My heart was pounding dangerously against my chest, subsequently increasing blood pressure. Already sore muscles tensed up incredulously, energized by adrenaline and glucose. My digestion and immune systems shut down, allowing more energy for emergency functions.

I was in fight or flight mode.

Except I couldn't do either.

So I panicked, until darkness came and took me, dragging and keeping me at the bottom of the ocean floor.

I had no idea how much time had passed, where I was, or even if I was alive. I was only aware of two things; a dull, throbbing pain in my head, and a constant beep trying to keep up with the beat of my heart.

Maybe that was a good sign. A beating heart meant I was alive, didn't it?

As I allowed myself to emerge from an unknown darkness, more things attacked my senses. Cool air was forced into my mouth. It had a distinct taste to it – not the same as normal oxygen you breathed in. And a clear, stern, female voice, at first making no sense, until I finally figured out she was calling my name. Urging me to keep on breathing.

So I did just that.

I wanted to open my eyes, but it proved to be too painful, so I concentrated on the voice and allowed my lungs to expand with air.

It was a much better feeling than what I'd experienced before – I didn't even know what that was. Was I drowning? Did someone come to my rescue? And how did I land up underwater to start with?

"Easy, Miss Davies, just breathe in slowly," the voice soothed.

I was a bit suspicious. How did they know my name? And where was I?

I finally dared to squint through one eyelid, only to be met by total darkness.

Panic set in. Did the Agency find me? Was this it for me – were they going to torture me to death now? I was already in a lot of pain – was I already halfway to my grave?

There was a steady increase of the beeping next to me.

"Miss Davies, I'm going to need you to calm down, just take deep, steady breaths," I heard the female voice again.

There was movement around me, and suddenly a slight pressure I haven't noticed before were lifted from my eyes.

It took a moment to adjust to the sudden dim lights and my surroundings. I was in a small room with an undertone of bleach scent, all-cream walls and a very boring grey floor. There were no decorations other than a vase with flowers on the little nightstand next to my bed. Bed?

It was a highly sophisticated, comfortable, slightly inclined bed; crisp green sheets covering my body up to my chest. An intravenous drip stand and various monitors surrounded this nice bed, taking away the comfort – instead plunging me in more panic.

I was utterly confused. How did I land up in… a hospital ward?

The female voice belonged to a very friendly-looking African-American lady in a white overcoat. She smiled down at me, her brown eyes reflecting concern and compassion.

"I'm going to shine a light into your eyes, can you follow the light for me, please?"

Her question was more a quick warning – she didn't wait for me to answer. Her gloved fingers were on my eyelids in seconds, holding it open with one hand while the other flashed an excruciatingly bright white light into my right eye. I tried to blink but to no avail. So I followed the light, cringing as she repeated her actions with my left eye.

"Good, your pupils are back to normal, your cognitive responses are fair. I'm going to remove the oxygen mask to ask you a couple of questions, okay?"

I was more than ready for that. I had a couple of questions of my own.

I almost missed the crisp oxygen, replaced with the stuffy warm air of the room. My throat was on fire the moment I took a deep breath. A sharp stinging pain ran through my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the onset of unexpected tears.

"Miss Davies, I'm Doctor Lewis. Do you know why you are here?"

It took a while before any form of memory came back to me. I remembered a car chase in Los Angeles, I remembered Aiden, and what I had to do to him, I remembered driving all the way up to San Francisco. I was in a hotel room, then in the street. Things were fuzzy after that. I shook my head solemnly, hoping this young doctor would be able to clear the confusion for me.

"You were run over by a drunk driver. You suffered quite extensive injuries, which we will go through with you thoroughly when Doctors Carlin join us. In the meantime, is there anyone we can contact? Parents, family, friends, perhaps?"

Knocked over by a drunk driver? I didn't remember this. Where was I when that happened? And how long have I been out for?

"Miss Davies?"

My eyes met Doctor Lewis', and I felt a longing to have someone here who cared for me. But I didn't know anyone. I didn't even know who I was.

"No, there's no-one," I croaked out. "How long – "

"Ah, miss Davies! So good to see you're awake!"

I turned my head slightly towards the door, noticing for the first time that there was quite a bustle outside the small room I was in. A nurse's station was close by, and despite being fairly quiet, there was a lot of scuffling around.

A tall man, probably in his early fifties, stood in the doorway, a smile on his tired face. His black hair sported streaks of grey on the sides, and lines contoured his face. He stepped inside, two strides landing him right beside my bed.

"I'm Doctor Carlin, your Physiatrist." He reached out and gave my right arm a slight squeeze.

Not that the comfort he tried to give helped any. Physiatrist? My eyes finally fell across my body, and I tried to take in the state that I was in. My legs seemed fine, I couldn't see my toes but I could move them, and it didn't feel as heavy as my left arm did, which was wrapped neatly in cast. My right arm was fine but an IV needle was stuck into the crooked of my elbow, and a strange contraption was on my index finger, leading a thin wire to one of the monitors beside me. I struggled to breathe due to pain in my chest, and wondered what exactly what was going on there. That was all I could see, but I knew there was more damage. My face hurt even with the slightest movement, and my head had a dull aching pain that just would go away.

"Doctor Lewis, have you had a chance yet to explain to Miss Davies what's going on?" Doctor Carlin asked. He seemed to have some authority over her.

Doctor Lewis smiled at him and shook her head. "Just waiting for you and Doctor Carlin, sir."

This was just too confusing.

"Sorry I'm late, my pager's malfunctioning and – oh, you're awake!" A tall, blonde woman came rushing into the room, holding a tiny device, probably her pager, up in the air. She wore a white overcoat as well, the same as the other two doctors with me. Her striking blue eyes caught me off guard as she smiled warmly at me.

"Miss Davies," Doctor Lewis addressed me. I stared at her, and allowed myself to throw a quick glance at the other two doctors. "This is Doctor Carlin, she is your Physician and has also performed minor surgery. I'm under the care of Doctor Carlin, our resident Physiatrist. Between the three of us, we will update you with everything your body has gone through and assist with a proper care plan towards recovery. You're in high care in San Francisco Med, and we will do everything we can to make your stay here as comfortable as possible."

They were scaring me.

"Miss Davies… Ashley," the female Doctor Carlin said, reading from a file she picked up from the foot point of my bed, "can I call you Ashley?"

I just nodded.

Doctor Carlin looked at the file and then back at me. "We'll start with the less serious injuries. Aside from bruising after impact, your left wrist is fractured, probably as you tried to stop your fall. The car that hit you knocked you down – the impact of the car was on your chest, thus resulting in two fractured ribs. You were very lucky to not have any internal organ damage."

"However," the male Doctor Carlin looked at me. "When you head the ground, your head hit first and quite hard. The impact was severe, causing bleeding in the skull cavity, which we had to surgically drain. There is still some swelling but your recovery has been outstanding so far. In a couple of weeks you should be as good as new."

"While I will tend to your immediate healthcare requirements, Doctor Carlin and Doctor Lewis will be involved in your rehabilitation. We're going to keep you here for a couple of weeks until you're back on your feet again. Do you have any questions so far?"

I had millions. But I was still in too much shock, trying to understand what had happened, to think of any coherent thing to say.

"We're going to let you digest the news. Try to get some more rest, things will feel a bit more clear in the morning," the male Doctor Carlin said, patting my right shoulder. I wondered for a brief moment if the two Carlin doctors were married.

"If you need anything, there's a nurses' button right there," Doctor Lewis informed me, pointing to a panel on the side of my bed. "If you have any more questions they can page me and we can assist you, okay?"

I watched the trio make their way out of my room, and let out a deep breath, emotions flooding my senses as I tried to figure out where things had gone so wrong in my life for me to end up here.

It had taken a couple of days for me to get used to my surroundings and the situation I was in. Though frustrating because I couldn't get up and leave, I had grown used to the friendly faces around me. I knew it was their job to have good bedside manners and be patient and kind to their patients, but it felt like Kat, my nurse, and Doctor Lewis, and even the two doctor Carlins, had become a great pillar of emotional support. I would never have pictured myself the type of person who would ever need that kind of support, but given my short history, it was difficult to pile on everything I've done – all the bad things – and be here and receive love and care from total strangers.

So yeah, it made me emotional.

It was tiring to be in my own head, my own guilt-ridden thoughts, day in and day out. So I appreciated any form of distraction, whether it was just Kat coming to take my vitals, or Doctor Lewis to wheel me off to a section in the hospital where I had to start doing physical rehabilitation.

Doctor Arthur Carlin was the best, however. He had this thing about him – it felt like you could talk to him about anything under the sun. I've found myself numerous times on the brink of opening up to him. But I was terrified of what his reaction would be. I'd probably find myself shipped off to jail minutes later.

It felt strange not wanting to disappoint someone. Everything I could remember about myself was hard. I used to be selfish, emotionless. A cold-blooded killer. But the more time I spent with the Carlin doctors, the more I just wanted to be normal. Accepted.

I wondered if this was the second chance at life Aiden had talked about…

Breathing Underwater – Metric