The Damage we do – Chapter 9
I'll come clean and admit I've progressed to inventing roads as well as villages! Only Cottered is real and I don't think it's near anywhere called Ashton. A big thank you to Ficmouse, Callie Rawston and Casualty1 for reviewing, especially for the ideas they are shaking loose! Exam's are finished now, and if I failed the resits aren't for ages, so yippee!
As always,
present – normal text
italics – past
This once again contains potential troubling/triggering issues.
Please let me know what you think.
Holby, 2012
Zoe stopped dead as she saw the familiar red banner of Breaking News on the reception television. This must be it. They wouldn't release Sam's name of course, they only did that for soldiers who had already passed away. Nick had gathered them together and told them about Sam. Their friend had been in an explosion and was being flown back home in critical condition. He had also said she had not been the only one involved in the incident and that two other soldiers had already died but he hadn't given anymore details and Zoe hadn't wanted to press him.
It was awful to keep passing and glancing up at the news channel expecting them to report it. Sam had not been gone a month and the E.D. staff were desperately trying to deliver their normal level of care, despite being a doctor down and all jumping whenever the phone rang. It should be on the TV because how could it not be? In Holby City E.D. today their entire world felt wrong and it felt like it being on the news would acknowledge that, acknowledge that it was real and one of their friends was in critical condition and the other was suffering.
The newsreader was sombre as Noel raised the volume to be heard over the waiting area noise. "Two British soldiers have been killed in Afghanistan. The soldiers were from 1st Battalion the Rifles and 254 Medical regiment and their families have been notified. Two other soldiers were also hurt in the explosion in Helmand province earlier today. The Ministry of Defence has named one of the injured soldiers as Major Samantha Nicholls, daughter of defence minister Charles Nicholls. Major Nicholls has been flown back to the UK and is said to be in a critical but stable condition. BBC reporters earlier captured the moment when defence secretary James Atherton told Mr Nicholls of his daughter's injury. The BBC's political correspondent Max Smith has the story."
"Yes Simon extraordinary scenes at Westminster today as the Afghan conflict struck a lot closer to home than usual."
Zoe stared at the screen amazed at seeing her young colleagues name and picture up there. The BBC used the official ministry of defence photo of Sam in her uniform briefly but then showed a wedding photo of her standing with a tall older man. Sam looked radiantly happy and Zoe was surprised to find her eyes filling with tears watching the broadcast. She covered her mouth with her hand. She felt Nick come to stand beside her, Noel following close behind. They watched the broadcast transfixed. The patients in the waiting area were watching them, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I've already had a phone call asking for a statement. Thank god they're at Westminster or they'd be camped out here already. Did you know Sam's father was a member of parliament?" Nick said.
Zoe shook her head blinking back tears rapidly, getting herself back under control. "They never mentioned it. Dylan would hate this." She nodded towards the screen. "Have you heard anything else?"
Nick shook his head. "I don't want to bother Dylan. I've asked her doctor to keep us updated, if Dylan agrees."
"This is a nightmare Nick. She shouldn't have even been out there."
"I know." He turned around to Noel. "I think we've had enough news for one day, don't you?"
Noel nodded and went back behind the desk for the remote to turn off the TV.
Nick squeezed Zoe's arm as he left and she stared at the blank TV for a moment before getting back to work.
Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012
Dylan was used to dead bodies. He had seen patients die countless times and it hadn't always been a tragic occurrence. He had seen older patients at the end of their lives who had welcomed death as the end of their trials, patients who had seen all their friends and relatives go before them and lingered on alone, people in such excruciating pain that death was a release.
He remembered the first day in the dissecting room as a medical student. All the first years had assembled outside, laughing and joking nervously. Dylan had wondered how he would cope with it, how his body and mind would react. Their anatomy lecturer had explained before hand that there were usually a couple of people who didn't react well, it wasn't a sign of weakness and they would get over it with time.
Another class was in there before them and Dylan could see into the large well lit room through the strip window in the door. He was shocked to see an actual person lying on a table, a medical student standing over him, his hands disappearing inside him. Dylan's stomach had lurched and he had looked away, terrified that he couldn't go in and that he wouldn't be able to take it.
He had thought of them as dead bodies, but the figure on the table was a person, had been an actual living breathing person like him who had friends and family and had eaten the same things as him and breathed the same air. Dylan had almost left. He had met the eyes of another student he didn't know very well. Dylan hadn't gravitated towards him as he was a bit outgoing and loud for his tastes. Bloody Hell the other student had muttered sounding like Dylan had felt and he hadn't felt so alone anymore. Both Jack and he had stuck it out and had found the odd dark humour that came with the work they had been doing strangely comforting. They had been friends from then on.
The thought that his beautiful Sam could become one of those bodies now was leaving him sick inside. She was so full of life and vigour that it was unbelievable that she could leave him. But Dylan sneaked a look at her monitor of intracranial pressure and registered that every hour the reading didn't decrease, that outcome was becoming more likely.
"Come on darling. Come on." He whispered to her, hoping somewhere in there she was listening.
Holby, 2012
Jeff and Dixie brought in their patient, a drunken teenager and his equally intoxicated friend and transferred him to the tender mercies of Tess and Lenny.
"You'll need to pump his stomach by the smell of him. We found him quite near his house but there was no answer there so you'll have to try to get his parents mobile number out of him when he's sobered up a bit. Where's Dylan, I thought he was on minors, I was looking forward to gifting him with this honour?" Jeff said after he'd finished handover. Dixie was trying valiantly to get the drunken friend to stay seated where she put him.
Dixie and Jeff exchanged looks of amusement at the thought of the unsympathetic treatment the teenager would have received from the straight talking doctor. They missed the look Tess and Lenny exchanged.
"He had to leave. Can I have a word before you go?" Tess said calmly and Jeff and Dixie followed her out to the corridor.
"There's been some bad news from Afghanistan." Tess said, hating that she had to be the one to tell the paramedics, who had been close to the young army doctor from the beginning.
"Is she okay?" Dixie said catching on straightaway.
Jeff looked confused for a split second. "Something's happened to Sam?"
Tess nodded. "She was in an explosion and she's been flown back to the UK. Dylan's gone to be with her. She's in critical condition."
"Critical condition?" Jeff and Dixie exchanged dismayed looks. "When was this? Has Dylan seen her yet?" Jeff asked.
"I don't know. Mr Jordan has been in contact with the hospital but as far as I know she's still in critical condition. He hasn't spoken to Dylan. Dylan was very upset."
"Of course he was, she's his wife." Jeff said absently.
"There's something else I'm afraid. Sam and Dylan are on the news."
"Why? Wait, why Dylan?" Jeff said quickly.
"Sam's father is an MP and Dylan's brother is in the cabinet somehow. We've already had reporters sniffing round."
"Well they'll hear nothing from us." Dixie said determinedly in a way which boded ill for the first person to ask.
They walked out through the reception area, where the television was off for the first time they could remember.
Plymouth, 2009
Dylan stood at the front of the church nervously adjusting his tie. Jack reached over and smacked his hand away.
"Nervous?" He teased.
"No." Dylan said irritated. "She's late."
"Er, have you met Sam? She's always late. It's just today she's allowed to be. I wouldn't blame you if you were nervous. She's way out of your league mate. Luckily you're marrying her before she realises it!" Jack teased and yelped at the swift elbow in the ribs he received for his trouble.
"Why does everyone always say that? She's an appalling backseat driver, she makes me eat rabbit food, she makes me try extreme sports and she likes to sleep with the light on. She drives me crazy."
"So why you marrying her then, genius?" Jack said unperturbed by Dylan's rant.
"She's amazing." Dylan said hearing the music start and realising Sam had arrived.
"Glad we cleared that up then." Jack said rolling his eyes but Dylan was no longer listening.
He watched her walk down the aisle towards him, on her father's arm. Her father was smiling broadly and Sam looked beautiful. Her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders and her dress was a strapless long white gown which emphasised her slim body but was elegantly simple. She met his eyes with a nervous smile and Dylan fell in love all over again. They were both unused to being the centre of attention like this but it didn't matter.
Dylan watched her get nearer and nearer him until finally at last her father placed her hand in his. He couldn't resist leaning in. "You look beautiful."
"Not so bad yourself grumpy" She whispered back.
Jess, who had been walking behind her, gave Millie to Sam's friend Holly and stepped forward to take Sam's bouquet. She and Millie matched perfectly in dresses of light grey which was made their fair hair and blue eyes stand out. Dylan met her eyes and she smiled self consciously. Dylan should have been upset that she was the only family member that was present for him, but he was strangely uncaring. Even at the thought of his family, the deep anger that he usually felt was inaccessible. That was Sam's doing. She had fixed him, when he thought he could never be fixed, could never trust anyone else that deeply again.
He felt he was floating on air all through his vows.
"Do you have the ring?" The vicar asked. Dylan turned to Jack, who commenced a comedy pat down of all the pockets he possessed until he finally hit on the right one, the one Dylan had seen him put it in earlier. Dylan rolled his eyes and held out his hand and he felt Sam laugh next to him.
Dylan slipped the simple gold band onto Sam's finger next to her engagement ring and he could feel her pulse racing wildly.
He kissed her and he decided this was the happiest day of his life and he doubted then anything could ever best it.
Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012
Dylan moved back helplessly as Sam was unplugged and calmly whisked away to the MRI scanner by a determined posse of nurses, an odd mix of army, navy and NHS uniforms. He was trying as hard as he could to shut off the part of him with medical training as it recited statistics and outcomes and complications and other things that made him want to pull his hair out and scream.
He knew that the shunt they inserted at Bastion hadn't brought the intracranial pressure down as they had hoped and that they were most likely considering a period of hyperventilation. He just hoped that the MRI showed an improvement, especially with the subdural haemorrhage and the intracranial pressure. Her consultant, who had been a different doctor to the one he had first spoken to had assured him three hours ago that internal bleeding had now been ruled out. While this was good news, Dylan would have paid every penny he had that the subdural bleed could have been ruled out instead.
A smartly dressed man appeared, silhouetted in the double doorway to the room. Dylan recognised him immediately as his father-in-law.
"Dylan." Charles rushed over. "How is she?"
Dylan sat back down; mind only partly able to take Charles in. "She's very ill." He said, unable to keep his tone level.
"Is she going to die?" Charles said, seeming to expect Dylan's medical opinion which Dylan was incapable of giving at the moment. Dylan was silent, trying to control his rapidly increasing irritation at the very sight of Sam's aloof father. "Should I get the girls up here to say goodbye?"
Dylan turned to look at him, irritation turning to anger and breaching his fragile self control. "Now, you're going to let them see her? You let that witch of a wife keep her away from them like she was a bad influence all this time and now it's okay? Dylan narrowed his eyes at him. "Go away!"
Charles looked at him, appalled." I'm not going anywhere, Sammy is my daughter. And don't you dare talk about my wife like that" He said coldly.
Dylan was not a violent man but he felt the urge to hurt Charles, to break some part of him beyond repair. He stood up and stepped closer to the taller man, right into his personal space.
"This is your fault. You're the only reason she's even in the army." Dylan spat.
"No. No, she wanted to follow in my footsteps…." He started, looking at Dylan like he'd never seen him before. Dylan shook his head mockingly.
"Is that what you really think? She signed up for her army cadetship because your beloved wife told her that what with the girls being so young you wouldn't be able to pay for med school. Only when she looked into it, the amount of student loan she would get was calculated on your income, whether you chose to share it or not. She would have got nothing. She wouldn't have been able to go to university."
"Maria would never say something like that. She loves Sammy; she's raised her from a teenager." Charles looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"You're a fool and Sam deserves better. Get out. Now!" Dylan screamed at him. A healthcare assistant appeared at the door.
"Problem gents?" He enquired pointedly.
Charles and Dylan were staring each other in the eye. Charles looked away first, lowering his eyes to the floor and walking out. Dylan stood there staring after him, trying to control his breathing.
"I'm Joey." Dylan jumped and whirled round. He had been so angry with Charles he had forgotten there was another patient and relative in the room.
"Dylan. Sorry." He offered. He looked past her. The young man in the bed didn't seem to have batted an eyelid at the shouting match. That wasn't a good sign.
"You didn't wake him." She stood beside him companionably. "Its normal, you know, to lash out."
"Uh, that's not what happened." Dylan said quickly.
Joey nodded in an accepting way and Dylan dropped back down into the chair.
"She gone for a scan?" Joey said casually.
"I don't really want to talk right now." Dylan said shortly, regretting letting his panic get the better of him.
He had seen some awful things in his time in emergency medicine, seen death or worse take children and teenagers, seen some pointless waste of life. He had experienced the death of colleagues and students with their whole lives ahead of them, like Asta and Polly. But he had always been able to walk away when it got too much. Go away, struggle to find his equilibrium and return, battered but never broken. He prided himself on his control, on being able to keep his professional demeanour, to never let his emotions dictate how he did his job. He felt suddenly out of control, like the panic that had been slowly building since Sam's first tour had finally erupted and was in danger of burning him alive.
He clenched his jaw, shaking with the effort of trying to hold it together, looking at the empty space Sam's bed had left.
Plymouth, 2009
Dylan almost groaned as Sam's father stood up to make a speech. He looked as if he was used to public speaking but Dylan was slightly fuzzy on if he even had the right to be giving such a speech given the rubbish standard of parenting he had observed so far. Dylan had seen his wedding day nearly ruined by his inability to disagree with his wife about their children taking part and his obliviousness about Sam's insecurity of her place in his family hadn't endeared him either.
Dylan had also extracted from her that she had first looked into Army cadetship because of an offhand comment from Maria about not paying for Sam's degree. Dylan had no illusions he was a particularly forgiving person, on the contrary, he could hold a grudge like a pro, and the fact this man may be the reason he would be separated from his wife in the future was not going to be an easy thing to let go of.
Charles droned on about how proud he was of Sam, following his footsteps and being a doctor at the same time, what a lovely couple they were etc.
"Sadly Sammy and Dylan wouldn't let me contribute to the wedding, they wanted to do it all themselves." Too bloody right thought Dylan; he would be cold and dead before he made Sam sit through her stepmother's torture that would have ensued if she had accepted a penny of her father's money for her wedding.
"But Maria and I couldn't let it go entirely so we have a little gift for you." Dylan noticed Maria's smile became a bit fake as Charles handed a surprised Sam an envelope.
"What is it Dad?" She asked, not having expected this at all.
"Open it Sammy." He said genially.
She opened it and brought out plane tickets.
"It's a holiday to Mexico!" She looked at Dylan amazed.
"Thank you dad, Maria. We hadn't booked a honeymoon yet. It's so generous of you!" She said excitedly.
"I looked into it and there are lots of adrenaline fuelled activities for you to try, I thought you'd like that!" He sat down, beaming at Sam's honestly happy reaction. Dylan tried valiantly to hide his annoyance. An extreme sports honeymoon. Oh Joy.
His opinion of Charles went up a notch. He had clearly tried with his wedding present and he must have worked hard to get it past the wicked stepmother. Maybe he wasn't quite as rubbish as he appeared. Dylan smiled smugly at Maria and she smiled tightly back as if she had just swallowed a bug. Just that was worth suffering a bit of white water rafting.
Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012
When Sam came back to critical care so did Charles. He was silent, not engaging Dylan. He got another seat and sat on Sam's other side. Sam's consultant and a couple of juniors came in to talk to Dylan. They told him that the intracranial pressure hadn't decreased and that a craniotomy now was their best chance to limit the damage. Sam was whisked away rapidly after Dylan had consented and he was left again staring at the space Sam's bed had occupied.
He reflected if she woke up she would kill him for letting them shave a patch of her hair. Sam wasn't the vain type at all, but she did love her long hair and had once reacted with horror when Dylan had suggested if she cut it off she could spend less time in the shower. He hadn't been serious, he loved her hair too.
He realised this was the moment he had dreaded since Sam had first informed him she was a member of the armed forces. It was this fear that had driven his hatred of the army and had put a wedge between them from the start. He found himself thinking of his lively, reckless, energetic wife. What would be too much for her to bear? Losing her sight, hearing, and muscle control? Would the bleed have damaged her speech, the way she processed information or her memory? Or would it be the worst thing ever, her personality. How would she cope if she could no longer be a doctor? Despite all these things Dylan would rather she lived and was damaged, than was lost to him completely. He suspected Samantha herself would have disagreed with him.
Dylan and Charles waited in silence, a nurse showing them both to a relative's room where they could wait in comfort. Dylan sat with his head in his hands, trying to recite different medical conditions through his head to try and keep his brain from dwelling on Sam's operation and prognosis. Charles had loosened his tie and looked exhausted.
His phone rang and he took it outside talking quietly so as not to disturb anyone. In the silence Dylan could hear his conversation. He wasn't paying attention until he heard a familiar name. Charles was talking to his brother, Gray.
"The doctor says the operation will take a while. If she comes through it we won't know how she is until she wakes up." Dylan couldn't hear his brothers reply to that.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Trust me on this Gray, he's not doing well. You'd do more harm than good. He's barely tolerating me."
Dylan looked towards the door, not liking being discussed like this. Charles was right. He wasn't coping well. He would like to see how Charles would do if he had all the information Dylan had. They were lucky Dylan wasn't rocking in the corner from the sheer horrific possibilities. He needed to talk to someone whose first loyalty was to him. He got out his phone and called Jess.
"Dylan, thank god, how is she? It's all over the news" Jess answered her phone very fast, like she had been waiting for it to ring.
"She's in surgery. It's not good Jess." Dylan's self control broke then and his vision suddenly blurred. "I can't help her." He said unsteadily.
"You're there aren't you? She loves you and you're there with her. That's all you can do right now." Jess said, sounding like she was crying herself. "Dylan, there's still a chance, right? You know she would never give up."
Dylan smiled through his tears. "She would never give up." He confirmed feeling a little comforted.
"You and Sam are the strongest people I know. You deserve this to turn out okay. Do you want me to come up to Birmingham?"
"No, No. I'll be fine. Millie shouldn't see her like this." Dylan said wiping his eyes with his hand.
"Keep in touch then. Millie and I love you." Jess said
"Love you too." Dylan said.
Dylan sat there in silence. He could hear Charles finish with Gray and call Maria. To Dylan's pleasure Charles seemed a bit off hand with her and he reflected maybe he had done Sam a favour by giving her dad a dressing down. The older man was obviously considering what he had said.
Plymouth, 2009
Dylan was confused and didn't like it. Samantha's father was still playing on his mind. They had a few days before they were due to go to Mexico and Sam was looking forward to it, though she knew him well enough to know Dylan wasn't going to be going hang gliding anytime soon he might stretch to a bit of kayaking and surfing with good grace. She had taken her fathers gesture to heart and was obviously wildly happy he had given her his attention. This had completely thrown Dylan as he had always thought there was something deeper to her relationship with her father. Sam had told him at some point in their relationship in an offhand way that her mother died in a RTC when she was eleven.
Dylan sat with his glass of red wine and his laptop on the sofa with the lights dimmed. Sam was already in bed but he had some last minute stuff to sort out for one of his F2's before he left for Mexico. He thought back to the worst argument he had ever had with his wife, about driving Jess to the hospital. Given Sam's behaviour and the promise she had asked him for the next day, he would have put money on Charles being responsible for his first wife's death.
But the way Sam was behaving now didn't fit with his theory and he didn't want to bring it up with Sam. He of all people understood that families were difficult and there are some things you just don't bring up on a whim. He knew at some point he would tell her why he was so estranged from his own family, but he had no wish to force her into a similar admission. So Sam was out as a source of information, as was Maria as Dylan thought she was the devil. He could have asked his own family as they seemed to be acquainted, but that was never going to happen either. Dylan was left with one obvious option.
Google.
He glanced towards the bedroom furtively and typed Charles Nicholls into the search engine.
Hmmm. It looked like Sam's father was an MP. He hadn't known that. He hadn't particularly cared either to be honest. Dylan had assumed he was still in the army. That explained how he knew Gray if he was part of the Westminster set. Charles was apparently a relatively new MP, in at the 2005 election and was a member of the opposition, although Dylan reflected that could change at the next election. He had a constituency profile page which said a whole lot of nothing and barely mentioned Sam.
He looked at the next link and saw it was a tabloid newspaper article from 2005 which included a photo of Charles and Maria and a separate photo of a younger Sam.
'MP's Drunk Death Wife Heartache.
Newly elected Conservative MP Charles Nicholls is a family man with two young daughters and a dutiful wife, glamorous Maria who has joined him out on the campaign trail. Nothing has been said of his first wife, Allison with whom he has a grown up daughter Samantha and who passed away when Samantha was a child, leaving the former army officer widowed with an eleven year old daughter. He has spoke of the difficulties he faced at the time and raised the issue of government support for single parent families but he never divulged the circumstances of his first wife's death. Now this paper has obtained a police report suggesting that Allison Nicholls was the victim of a road traffic accident in which hers was the only vehicle involved. The inquest suggests Mrs Nicholls; a university lecturer in European history was over the limit at the time of the accident. The full shocking story is revealed in the police report which states that Mr Nicholls young daughter Samantha was also in the car the night of the accident and narrowly escaped serious injury. Allison and Samantha were returning from a party at a friend's house in Hertfordshire in December 1996 when Mrs Nicholls crashed the car on a deserted and notorious stretch of B road between Cottered and Ashton. Trapped in the car in the cold and the dark with her fatally injured mother, little Samantha endured five hours of waiting before another car noticed the crash site and was said to be deeply impacted by her ordeal. She is now training to be a doctor.'
Dylan sat back, shocked, ignoring the rest of the article. He felt guilty like he had broken Sam's trust somehow. He closed the page quickly and shut down his laptop. What was he supposed to do now?
He had just found out something major about his wife but he couldn't talk to her about it. It explained a lot about her, her fear of the dark obviously stemmed from this, although he still found her father's distance baffling. This was obviously a lot more complex than could be covered by a tabloid newspaper article. What had he been thinking? He cursed and took a big swig of his wine. He was in a worse place than when he had started.
Sam was brought back from surgery a little later. The surgery had gone well and her intracranial pressure was reducing slowly. Dylan restrained himself from asking to see her MRI not wanting to start guessing at the damage before she woke. She was just as still as before although she had gained a large dressing on the right side of her head with a surgical drain attached. Dylan and Charles silently resumed their places and the soldier's mother across the room watched them sympathetically before returning her attention to her son.
His phone rang again and Dylan was surprised and then slightly comforted to see it was Dixie. She was the first one of his and Sam's workmates to ring although Dylan had given Sam's consultant permission to keep the department updated through Nick. He had not wanted to have the same heartbreaking conversation fifteen times over, but found he didn't mind the idea of talking to Dixie.
He got up and went outside Sam's room to answer it. If Dixie hadn't talked to him before Sam returned to Afghanistan and given him a shock he wasn't sure he would have had the courage to fix things, however badly it had turned out now. She had at least given him the chance to know how Sam felt about him before she went abroad.
"Dixie." He was unsurprised she was the only one brave enough to call.
"Dylan. How are you?" This was such an unexpected question it nearly sent him over the edge again but he took a couple of deep breaths. He knew she probably heard it.
"Annoyed. Sam's come through surgery; they've had to do a craniotomy because of the bleeding. Stupid idiot went and got herself blown up." Dixie closed her eyes at the crack in his voice.
"You know what she's like. Always has to be at the centre of the action. That's why we love her." Dylan rolled his eyes at her words.
"Yes well she's certainly the centre of attention now. Even her father is here, annoying bastard. Never liked him."
"You know you're on the news. I can see why you didn't tell us your brothers a Lord. Don't expect to live that down quickly." Dylan almost laughed.
"I look forward to it." He meant it too. It seemed like a luxury at the moment, to be teased and be at work like normal.
"When will we know, about Sam?" Dixie asked matter of factly.
Talking to Dixie helped; it was almost as if they were discussing a patient like normal. "She's come through the surgery alright and if the intracranial pressure reduces further they can reduce the sedation. Then we just have to wait for her to wake up."
"Good. We can't wait to have you both back. Is it alright if I call tomorrow for an update?"
"It's fine."
"We're all thinking of you Dylan." Dixie said honestly.
"Thank you." Dylan murmured embarrassed before hanging up abruptly.
Dylan finally dozed off around eleven in the morning and woke with a start to find Captain Flanagan's hand on his shoulder. Sam's junior doctor gave him an apologetic look. "We are going to reduce the sedation now and try and get her off the vent. You know as well as I do it doesn't necessarily mean anything if she doesn't wake up straight away. Would you like to stay for this or go get a coffee?"
"Stay." Dylan sat up in the chair and checked his watch. He saw it was now the middle of the afternoon and stretched absent mindedly watching the other doctor.
The Army doctor disconnected two of Sam's IV bags and nodded to Dylan. He sat down in the chair the other side of Sam's bed, looking at a file and keeping an eye on the monitors. Dylan realised Charles must left and wondered if he was on the phone again.
Dylan picked up Sam's hand again and was heartened to receive a reaction as if she felt the contact, even though she didn't wake. The army doctor moved forward and disconnected the ventilator, keeping an eye on her oxygen saturation. At first it plummeted sharply, but then Sam's body took over and she began breathing on her own again. Dylan couldn't help the breath of relief that escaped him as this first hurdle was overcome.
To his joy she started to cough and opened her eyes and the army medic moved swiftly to remove the endotracheal tube, leaving her still coughing. She quietened down and closed her eyes again soon after but her oxygen sats remained stable. Captain Flanagan looked at him with satisfaction.
"She woke up on her own. That's a good sign. Hopefully it won't be long now." He gave Dylan a friendly grin and left and Dylan took Sam's hand again, more optimistic now than he had been in the last 24 hours put together.
