So sorry for the long wait, but it's only because I started writing my first book :D anyways sorry again. I don't have a whole lot of excuses why this is so late, but i hope you like it. I made it extra long just for you guys. It's the longest chapter yet. Feedback is appreciated. Read, Enjoy, Review

I've been panicked before. I've stressed over a major exam. I've thrown up before giving speeches in front of my peers. However, nothing in my past had ever prepared me for the chilly ice that ran through my veins when hearing Zach's words. It felt almost as if my blood had been dipped in liquid nitrogen, causing it all to instantly freeze.

"What do you mean you can't feel your arm Zach?" I shot up and slid the shoulder of his shirt down. Townsend had bandaged his shoulder tightly, but blood still seeped through the gauze. "Townsend, get in here!" I shouted. There must have been more to that bullet wound if Zach couldn't feel his arm.

"Yes?" He asked. It was almost one in the morning, according to my watch, yet Townsend looked as if he had slept for weeks prior to getting up.

"Zach can't feel his arm. What happened?" I began poking and prodding at Zach's arm and asking him if he could feel it or not. I received the same answer every time.

"The bullet must've torn some of the tendons in your arm when it passed through. It might not be repairable. I'm sorry." Townsend removed Zach's bandage and did a quick examination. He went to fetch his makeshift medical supplies and preformed an examination of the muscles in Zach's shoulder. Sighing, Townsend replaced Zach's bandage quickly then. As Townsend exited the room, he took the only hope I had of repairing Zach's arm and giving him a second chance with him.

"Townsend!" I yelled, chasing after him. "Townsend, don't walk away from me! There has got to be something we can do to repair Zach's arm."

"No, Ms. Morgan, there isn't. At least, there's nothing I can do. The orders were sent for your deaths to be publicized when you arrived. By tomorrow morning, his name will be on every news station and every magazine cover."
"Then we can take him to a hospital. It's still today, and you said people wouldn't know we were dead until tomorrow morning. We have to be able to do something. We can't just leave him here like this!" I exclaimed using arm gestures like I always did when I was nervous or angry.

"We can't take that risk. I'm sorry. You should get your rest Ms. Morgan. Your transport will be here in the morning. I recommend in one of the rooms separate from your companion." Townsend shut his steel door. The steel room was an echo of Townsend's personality: cold and unmoving.

I was left standing in front of his door. Tears streamed down my face as I refused to accept Townsend's rejection. "You may not help him, but I sure as hell will." I whispered to myself. I rushed back into the main area where Zach was, only to find he was missing.

"Zach?" I yelled, hoping for an answer. "Where are you?" I felt like one of the girls in a scary movie that yells for the killer expecting for him to reply. The light by where Zach had lain dimmed to a burning flicker. Thunder pounded shaking the orphanage as I began my search. I looked for anything that would give me hints to where my crippled companion could be found.

"I'm over here." I heard Zach yell from the next room over. Letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I found Zach leaning against a wooden desk in one of the rooms beside the main lobby.

"What were you thinking?" I asked him, giving him a light punch in his shoulder. "I had thought something had happened to you. Why are you up anyways? You should be resting. The last thing I need is for you to have another episode."

"Episode?" He inquired, "What do you mean an episode."
"You don't remember? You woke up once and you were talking gibberish. It didn't make any sense. You were moaning." He went beat red for a second. "And you were saying things like 'I didn't do anything wrong.' Then you started thrashing and screaming, and I was so scared that there was something wrong with you. I didn't know what to do. Then you turned on me, and I was so frightened. I didn't know what to do you were saying it was all my fault and-and that someone needed you. Then something happened and your eyes were all clouded and then you passed out again. You don't remember any of this?" Zach shook his head no and I almost couldn't believe the irony. Both of us getting amnesia from injuries that couldn't be helped.

"Are you going to explain what you were talking about?" I asked. Though the situation did frighten me half to death, I still wanted to know what he was talking about.

"It was my dad. He was never the 'exemplary' fatherly figure. He'd come home drunk most nights and it'd just go downhill from there. You know what he did to that child. I will always see him as a murder, even if it was because he was intoxicated. You know, it seems like alcohol has a way of messing up my life a lot. First my dad, and then those drunk footballers throwing you into the side of that pool; best of all: it's all my fault too."
"Don't say that Zach, you had no control over those guys' or your dad's actions. It was all them, no matter what that drug does to your brain." I reassured him. Placing my arm on his wounded shoulder, I began to rub circles in his back and hum an old tune my mother used to sing to me to calm me down when I got hurt as a child.

"See, but it is my fault. They threw you in because you were my friend. Then, my father started drinking because he thought my mother loved me more than him. That's what got him started on his alcohol reliance and lead to him killing that kid in the drunk driving accident. I'm just tired of bad things happening to me. Is that too much to ask?" Zach sighed and slid down to the floor.

"That's not the only thing on your mind is it?" After knowing Zach for years, and dating him for almost an entire one, I had learned to read his emotions pretty well.

"I'm just worried about you. We were dragged into something a lot larger than we should have been in. I think that there's more to this thing than that guy Townsend is letting on too."
"I know you're avoiding what you really want to talk about because it will just make me worried or some stupid crap like that." I wanted him to talk to me and be honest for once. "I'm tired of lies and people sneaking around Zach. I just want you to talk to me and be you. I want you to tell me what you feel and I won't judge you for any of it. I might not like what you feel or agree with it, but I will support you no matter what it is. That's what we do."

"You mean you want me to talk about my arm?" He guessed. I nodded and he chuckled. It wasn't the light amusing laughter that I was used to. It was dark and sadistic; it was so un-Zach like. "You know, I always thought that the world could play some cruel jokes. Me getting arrested, you getting hurt…twice, and now I'm having everything I've worked my entire life taken away from me. It's almost as if fate hopes that I have a shitty life. And you know what? Sometimes, I believe that I truly deserve everything that I've been given. I've screwed over some really good people, and I've messed myself up pretty badly."

"I refuse to let you think like that Zachary Goode. I know you, and I know what you're like. You're a fighter and a good person. Most of all, I'm not going to let you give your dreams up. You're going to get your arm fixed. Townsend might not be able to fix it, but I bet if we get to a hospital then we can find someone who can." I tried to lift Zach off the ground with little success. All my strength had been sapped from carrying him here.

"When did the goody-goody Cameron Morgan become a rule breaker? I don't think it's a good idea. Townsend told us to stay here, and I don't want to risk it. I don't want to risk you." He let his sentence fall out.

"I don't want to risk it either, but if we do survive this whole ordeal, then you can keep on pursuing your dream and it will be like nothing ever happened. Zach, we have to take the chance. I can't feel like I'm responsible for holding you back, not again."
"Cammie, I don't think it's a good idea." Zach said.

"If you're not going to go, then I am. I'm not going to let you just give up." I got up as Zach attempted to scramble after me.
"Do you even know where you're going?" He yelled after me. He swore as he tried to get up using his bad shoulder for support. He was still able to feel the pain in his shoulder, but he momentarily forgot the immobility in his arm.

"There was a hospital two blocks back. Maybe I can get one of the doctors to come here and help you if you're not going to come with me." I had one hand on the doorknob and one foot out the door when he stopped me.

"Wait," Zach said, finally behind me. "I'm going with you. I refuse to let you go again like I did before." I laughed.

"Zach," I miffed, "need I remind you, that you have a girlfriend. You can't keep on saying things like this to me. Either you like her or you don't. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to go for help, but either you're supporting me as a friend or not at all. It's your decision, not mine." I stepped out the door into the pouring rain.

"Cammie! I didn't-I- Cammie wait!" I was already too far to hear.

The rain pounded around me as the streets of New York continued to bustle even in the gloomiest of weather. The cold spread into my already soaked jacket like a snake would slither up on its prey. I felt it running through my body, stiffening my muscles and tightening my joints. The hospital was only one more block away, but the cold was becoming unbearable. I felt my teeth chattering and I wrapped arms around myself in hopes of locking in some body heat. No such luck came, I remained as cold as before.

I arrived at the hospital, cold and shivering. Shelter from the rain and cold provided some relief for my aching body. The two-block walk seemed like miles. Unsure if would be able to make it back, I reminded myself that I wasn't doing this for myself, I was doing it for Zach who was in need of a surgeon to fix his arm.

Walking up to the receptionist desk, the receptionist looked up and gasped. "Hello miss," He said, "how may I help you."

"My friend was shot in the shoulder. We stopped the bleeding and we fell asleep for a while, but when he woke up, he said he couldn't feel his arm. He could still feel the pain in his shoulder where he was shot, but he can't move his arm. We don't know what to do, and he refuses to leave where we're staying."

"Who refused to leave?" A voice said from behind me.

"Zach!" I yelled, causing many stares from the other patrons. "What are you doing here? I was going to bring a doctor back, or at least try."

"I take it this is your friend who was shot." I nodded to the receptionist and then examined Zach. He was wearing even less than I was and had just walked the same two-blocks that I had. His shoulder had begun to bleed again as well.

"We need someone fast. He's bleeding again, and bleeding a lot." I could tell because Zach's face was going pale, and his previously white gauze was completely red and seeping through his shirt. The receptionist nodded and placed a call for an emergency doctor.

Zach was wheeled away on a gurney as I was forced to wait in the lobby. I waited for hours. Eventually a doctor came out wearing his scrubs.

"Ah," She said as he saw me, "are you with the man who got shot." I gave the lady a look like 'you don't recognize him' and she just smirked. "Yes I do realize who he is, but I'd prefer not to have a frenzy of able body men and desperate fan girls in my hospital." I nodded to show that I understood. "My name is Doctor Ames. I preformed the work on your boyfriend."

"I'm not his girlfriend." I said.

"Anyways, we were able to successfully remove the bullet from his shoulder, although we believe it caused some damage to the nerves and muscles in his shoulder causing the immobility. However, I regret to inform you, sadly, we were not able to repair his arm. He will be given the option of amputation since his arm will no longer be functioning. Or he may keep it. It is besides the fact, but his arm will no longer be of use. We did the best we could, but the nerves, muscles, and tissue were too managed and disintegrated from whatever he was shot by. He should be waking up momentarily, and I believe that you should be the one to tell him the news. He's in room 1201" The doctor gave me some more instructions about Zach, but I wasn't listening, I was still in shock. Regrettably; I got up and walked to the room. Zach's never going to be able to use his arm again, and it's my fault.

I sat in the chair waiting for Zach to wake up. His shoulder was bound in several layers of gauze and he was attached to who knows how many machines. I heard the heart monitor give off subtle beeps notifying me his heart was functioning fine. Even though I knew that he was alive I couldn't help but feel like he was dead. I knew he would be alive in theory, as far as walking and breathing went, but I know even more that he would be truly dead since his dream was impossible now.

I didn't know what to do. I could now imagine what it was like for all my friends when I was in the hospital. Seeing someone hooked up to all these machines made it seem so surreal. I knew that Zach was going to wake up, but even still, part of me believed that he was never going to. I knew this most likely because I knew that when he woke up, he would never be the same person ever again.

"Ugh," Zach moaned in his bed.

"Zach," I sighed, "you're awake." I couldn't help but smile at him. Part of me was still mad at him for giving all these mixed signals, but the other part of me pitied him for what happened. I could never imagine having all my hopes and dreams being so close and then being ripped away the next second.

"Cammie?" His voice was hoarse as he slowly tried to push himself upright. His arms gave out on him and he decided to remain lying down. His body too plagued with fatigue to try again. "What'd the doctor say?"

"The doctor said a lot of things." I stalled.

"Very funny Gallagher Girl. What'd he say about my arm?" Of course Zach wanted to cut right to the chase.

"They successfully removed the bullet from your shoulder, but you have to stay here for another two days before you can be discharged."

"And?" He turned his head so his deep green eyes looked directly into my own. I could feel my own eyes brimming with tears as I delivered the news.

"And they were unable to repair the damage done to your arm. I'm sorry Zach." I could see the tears spilling over from his eyes. I had seen Zachary Goode cry very few times, not even when Bex broke his arm. I burst into hysterics.

"It's not your fault." Zach tried to calm me down, but it should have been me trying to comfort him.

"Yes, it is! It's all my fault! I'm the one who avoided you purposefully so that I wouldn't have to talk to you. Then I was the one that got you shot because you chased after me when I refused to talk to you. And-and- I just ruined your life and you're acting like it's fine. It's not!" I placed my head on my hands. "I'm so sorry Zach, I never meant to get you in trouble and I definitely didn't mean for any of this to happen. Now you'll never be able to play football again and you'll never be able to fulfill your dreams. You were so close, and you won the Super Bowl for Pete's sake! Now, because of me, it's all gone, and-and- maybe it's just better if I leave. Townsend was right, it's not safe for me to be near you."

"Cammie, you can't blame yourself for everything that's happened. It was my choice to go after you when you went to Josh's. It was my decision to follow you after, and it was my decision to follow you period. None of that makes this your fault. If anything it's mine for being plain stupid and not being aware of my surroundings. You can't beat yourself up about this. I know that I won't be able to play football anymore. Yes, it was my life, but I will learn to live without it. I can live a normal life. You haven't ruined my life, you just given it a new beginning. Think about it that way." Zach continued to try and make me feel better, but I had made up my mind.

"That's not going to stop me from leaving Zach, it's not safe for us to be near each other. I'm going back to the orphanage to tell Townsend where you are then I'm leaving."

"Don't do this Cammie, I know you, don't leave. Leaving has worked before and it won't work now." He tried to get up once again, but once again failed.

"Why do you even care?" I asked. "You have a girlfriend and you were happy with her. Why do you care if I leave? Wouldn't it be better if I left, then you could think about your cute and hubby all alone. I don't need your pity or your concern Zach; I'm a big girl. I'll manage on my own. You can't keep on doing this to me. I'm not the helpless person you left back in Roseville. I know how to deal with hard things. If you ever need help though, call Abby. I'll leave her number on the table, but only if it's an emergency. Don't worry about me Zach; I'll be fine. We'll see each other again soon." Standing up from my chair, I began to exit the room. Must to Zach's dislikes and protests, I continued out the door.

"Fine, leave then. What if I can't reach Abby though? Then what? Do I just die, or what happens then." I sighed realizing he was right.

"Take this." I said, giving him my cell phone. "It has Abby's number on speed dial number four. Just press four and the-"

"I know how speed dial works." He snapped.

"Then this is goodbye…for now." I turned a final time. Zach didn't need me; all I had done was get him in trouble and hurt. He was much better off without me.

"Will you stop trying to leave?" He yelled after me. I heard his bed squeak, indicating he was trying to get up. "Stop trying to leave and abandon me here." I turned and saw that he had his two feet on the ground and was trying to stand up, but the wires connecting him to all his machines were holding him down. I heard one beeping erratically, but I didn't know if it was the nurse pager or the heart monitor.

"I'm not abandoning you, I'm keeping you safe. If me leaving keeps you safe then I'll leave, because it seems the more I'm around you the more trouble I seem to attract. So goodbye Zach."

"And do you seriously think that I'm just going to let you walk out hat door and not try and follow you? You're insane!" He shouted at me.

"And you're the one that made me insane! God, Zach, I can't deal with this right now, I need to go." The nurse finally arrived with a sedative for Zach. It had a pristine needle and everything, much more advanced than what we had at the orphanage. "Bye Zach."

I left the hospital to shouts from Zach for the nurses to release him and for me to come back, but I listened to neither of them. Zach would only be safe when I was out of the picture. The rain continued to pour on the grey city as I walked along its sickly sidewalks. If you asked any New Yorker, they'd tell you being out on the streets in the middle of the night was a terrible idea. Actually, any sane person would tell you that it's a bad idea, but my safety was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

Somehow, I made it back to the orphanage unscathed. I was freezing and shivering, but unscathed. The fire by Zach's blanket had gone out completely and it was pitch black. Lightning flashed illuminating a terrorizing figure in the middle of the room.

"Ms. Morgan, where is Mr. Goode." Townsend demanded. I could see his silhouette; his shoulders were tense and I could make out the vague features of his face, of which were contorted with rage.

"I took him to the hospital because you refused to try to help him. But you were right Townsend; there was nothing we could do to fix his arm. It's finished. His arm won't work again, and it's entirely my fault. I hope you're happy."

"Where is Mr. Goode now?" Townsend demanded.

"He's still at the hospital, they won't dispatch him for another two days."

"Do you realize what you've done?" Townsend yelled at me. Racing towards the door, he knocked me aside and sprinted into the rain. I sprinted after him, but keeping up with a member of the CIA isn't as easy as you'd think.

He was too far ahead of me. My legs were slowing down as the cold was causing my muscles to cramp. Eyesight obscured by falling rain, and clothes weighed down by soaking water, I had no idea of the flying projectile that soon lodged itself into my right calf. A searing pain soon followed as the rain continued to pound on my back. I felt white hot metal slice across my arms, back, and legs. The water washed away in pools of red. I felt colder and colder as black dots began to dot my vision. I was going to die in the middle of New York streets. At least my story now fit my life. My family thought I was dead, and soon was going to be.

I felt my eyelids growing heavy as the black dots grew bigger. Eyesight fading to black, I experienced the coldest cold I had in my life, and I knew I was dead. The last thing I felt was my body being carried away as the last remnants of my life drained from my body.