Hello everyone. I'm so sorry this chapter was late - again! I have such good intentions, then my muse leaves me and i find myself unable to continue! Horrible! Anyway, thank you RyleeS for your review on the last chapter. As you can see i still haven't given up on it! I'm too stubborn and hate leaving unfinished business so i will definitely get this finished at some point. Please enjoy.

Chapter Eight

Greg awoke the next morning with a jolt and sat bolt upright in bed. He exhaled when he realised he'd been holding his breath, but was unable to remember the reason why. He was pretty sure he'd just been dreaming, but as his brain became more alert, the dream faded into nothing. He glanced at the clock. It was 7.30am. He'd been away from Beth's bedside a whole day now, the longest time since this whole nightmarish drama started. He threw back the covers and headed for the bathroom; he needed a shower. He also knew he needed to contact work, to see how much more of his holiday he could take - they'd been great so far over it, knowing that he'd not have been able to focus on anything if he'd have gone in, and he was thankful to Matt who'd stepped in part time to take his place. He'd have to ask them how he was getting on. Feeling the hot water wash away the remnants of the night he suddenly remember what date it was and smiled slightly to himself.

Just over an hour later he found himself walking back down the familiar corridor towards Beth's room. He glanced in the window as he passed to see her still in the same position that he'd left her in, and she was alone.

"Hey sweet." He said, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before sitting down. "Guess what I remembered this morning? Do you know what the date is? It's the 2nd January. 22 tears ago today we first met. Do you remember? We were six and you'd just moved to the neighbourhood and my parents dragged me round so we could all welcome you. If I remember correctly I was dressed in jeans, some shirt my mother had made me wear and my baseball cap which I specifically remember refusing to take off. And I remember you were hiding behind your mother, she had to coax you out because you were really shy." Greg smiled and stood up, moving over to the window. "We came in and our parents shoved us towards the garden to play. You wanted to play Hopscotch and I think I called you a girl because I wanted to play Cowboys and Indians."

Feeling a lump suddenly appear in his throat he stopped talking and focused on forcing it back down. For some reason, out of all the memories he'd remembered and everything he'd talking about around her, this seemed to make him more emotional and he could feel the tears edging their way out of his eyes. He leaned forwards and rested his head on the glass, taking a shaky sigh as he tried to compose himself without success.

"Greg?"

Mrs. Millers voice called behind him suddenly. He stood upright, quickly wiping the tears away with the arm of his sleeve, quickly trying to pull himself together as he turned to face her with a smile planted on his face.

"Yeah?"

But she wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the bed. Feeling a jolt of nerves and fear hit his stomach he turned his head to look at her. As quickly as the jolt had come, another of relief washed it away as he watched Beth try to lift her hand before moaning gently. In a heartbeat they'd both reached her side, Greg grabbing the hand that she was trying to lift and gently held it to his chest. Her mother put her hand on Beth's forehead, gently brushing the hair back.

"Beth?"

Greg questioned.

"Beth, sweetheart can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

Her mother requested. Slowly her eyes opened and vaguely focused on them.

"Hey honey, you had us all scared to death, you know that?"

Greg told her. She blinked slowly before closing her eyes and falling asleep.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

"Greg, what's up?"

Cath asked concerned as she answered her phone.

"She woke up. She's awake."

Cath could hear the relief in his voice as he almost laughed the words.

"Thank God, how is she, is she okay?"

"I don't know, the Doctors are in there now checking everything, but they said it looked promising. I just thought I'd let you all know."

"Thank Greg. Tell her we're all thinking of her."

"I will. Bye."

He hung up as he saw Mr. Miller heading towards them and Beth's mother got to her feet to hug him. Greg turned at the sound of the door to Beth's room opening and the Doctors and nurses filtered out. Beth's friend and doctor, Michael, came over to them.

"She appears to be doing well, responded well to all the tests, I think she's finally out of the woods but she still has a long journey to go. She'll probably sleep now for a while."

"Thanks Doc."

Greg said and walked past him and into the room. Mr. Miller took the Doctors hand.

"How can we ever thank you Doctor for what you've done for our daughter."

"I can't take all the credit, your daughters a strong girl."

He smiled before turning and heading back to his office.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Sounds and smells slowly became real as Beth's strange dream disappeared into black. She realised she was awake without opening her eyes and she laid still for a moment trying to get her bearings. She felt like she had jetlag, like she was out of place in the world, and she couldn't really remember what had happened or how she had come to be laying in a hospital bed. But she definitely knew she was in one, even though her eyes were closed. The sounds and smells around her were unmistakable. She tried to remember but it made her mind fuzzy and a thought suddenly popped in there – morphine, I'm coming down from a morphine high. She didn't know how she knew, only that she did, she'd seen it a hundred times – that groggy look and movements in patients, she'd been drugged up on painkillers for some reason. Feeling ready to open her eyes, she forced herself to lift her heavy lids and found her eyes focusing on the hospital ceiling. She blinked, once, twice, a small frown on her face, a slight fear in her heart that she couldn't remember getting there. Then suddenly her mother came into her line of sight and relief washed through her. There was something comforting about seeing your mother, it made everything all better again.

"Hey sweet, how are you feeling?"

She stared at her for a moment, trying to work out how she was feeling. Her mother gently removed the mask from her face so she could reply, having seen Beth trying to lift her hand to reach it.

"Mum...what...? I don't..."

Her mouth was dry as if she hadn't spoken in a long time, and it sounded rough to her.

"Shh..." Her mother soothed, placing a hand on her forehead and brushing her hair. "It's okay. Don't worry. Everything is gonna be fine."

"I need to know..."

She said slowly. Her mum gave her a smile, she knew her daughter, and her daughter would want to know, would be able to cope with knowing.

"You saved a life, that's what happened. This is gonna be hard to hear but...you were shot. But it's okay, everything has been sorted out and you're healing well."

Beth took all this in, and let it settle. She'd been shot. It was hard to process, her of all people, being shot. It was almost funny. Feeling tired and slightly woozy, she tried to ask another question that died on her lips, but her mother got the gist of what she wanted to know.

"He's fine. He's right over there in fact."

She gestured across the room and as Beth slowly managed to move her head in that direction her mother continued talking.

"He's been worried sick, he's barely left your side since it happened."

He was asleep, in the chair across the room, his eyes closed, his chest moving slowly up and down as he slept. Beth smiled slightly, then lay her head back on the pillow tiredly.

"Sleep. We'll still be here when you wake. And your father will be back from the hotel as well."

Beth nodded with her eyes, then closed them, falling quickly into slumber.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

She didn't know how long she'd slept for, only that as she woke again, she knew that the morphine had worn off. She felt stronger, more alert, that groggy feeling had gone. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the sounds that were crisp and clear and the smells that were more pungent.

The only sound in the room was the gentle beeping of the heart monitor which she found strangely comforting. The mask that was on her face last time she woke was now gone and had been replaced with the oxygen tube running under her nose and around behind her ears. She'd never realised quite how uncomfortable it could be at times but she supposed she'd get used to it. Focusing on her body she could feel a throbbing in her thigh that didn't disappear when she moved. In fact it awoke a dull pain in her chest that she found herself having to take slow deep breaths to calm it back down. Figuring it was about time to open her eyes and face reality, she braced herself against the harsh light and lifted her eyelids. She felt like she hadn't used them in months and as she adjusted to the light, which she was glad to say wasn't as harsh as she'd been expecting, she took a look around the room. It was empty of people except for herself and she noticed that a chair had been moved from the wall opposite and had been placed beside the bed. There were flowers and cards on the bedside table and around the room, as well as many personal items such as photos, a stack of her CD's, her CD player and some books. She looked down at herself remembering what her mother had said to her, something about being shot. There was a bandage covering her shoulder and chest along with her heart monitors and other wires and tubes leading in and out of her chest and arms, and her leg was slightly raised under the covers.

Turning her head slightly she looked at all the monitors beside the bed and was relieved that everything seemed to be within normal parameters. Now if she could just get a look at her chart, she thought to herself before a noise distracted her. She looked up to see the door open and Greg enter the room backwards with a cup of what smelled like coffee in one hand and a sandwich from the vending machine in the other.

Looking towards her as he always did when he entered the room, he was shocked to find her eyes open and staring at him, a small, tired smile on her face. A big relieved look crossed his face as he moved across the room in two strides and placed the cup and sandwich on the bedside table before turning to her.

"Hey...how are you feeling? Is everything alright?"

He asked all in one go as he placed one hand on her forearm and the other brushing her hair from her forehead. Her smile slid into a slight frown. She could hear a slight quiver in his voice that only someone close to him would be able to hear and his hand was shaking against her arm. She realised she'd been quiet for too long when he spoke again, a concerned frown on his face as well.

"Do you need me to get a Doctor?"

She shook her head gently and opened her mouth to speak. It still felt dry and unused.

"No, I'm okay." She replied slowly. "Can I have some water?"

"Yeah – yeah."

He said and quickly poured some out of the water jug beside her and into the waiting glass with a straw in it. He lifted it to her lips and held the straw still while she took a few sips, all the while her eyes on him and the glass shaking slightly in front of her. He replaced the glass and took hold of her arm once more.

"Better?"

"Much. Are you okay?"

He seemed shocked by the question and took a moment to reply.

"Of course I'm okay, I'm not the one in the hospital bed. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You're shaking."

She replied slowly looking at his arm. He removed it and stared at the floor for a moment. A sign that he was nervous and trying to come up with a reply. He seemed to settle on the truth as he looked back up but not at her face.

"Well, you had me worried sick...I thought I'd lost you."

He finally looked up into her face. He had been contemplating lying to her but he knew she'd have known. She knew him too well, better apparently than he knew her.

"I'm sorry."

She told him. He looked mildly shocked.

"For what? This wasn't your fault."

He forced himself to see the brighter side. She was finally awake and it would only be a matter of 'when' she'd make a full recovery instead of 'if'. He needed to lighten the mood somehow and stop thinking about how he was feeling inside.

"Besides you'll be up and about in no time at all, because you know you owe me 100 drinks."

A gleam of humour slid into his eyes.

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do. You see, while you were unconscious we made a bet. We even shook on it too."

"And what would this bet have been on?"

She asked, playing along with a small smirk.

"Whether or not you'd wake up before new years day. I bet that you wouldn't and you lost. You would have won but I figured that since I always lost any bet that we made I decided to bet against you in hopes that you'd wake sooner."

She's been frowning through his speech. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd been unconscious for so long.

"What day is it?"

"4th January. You've been in a coma since the 28th right after you relapsed."

He stated, almost without feeling as if he didn't want to think about it. But she needed to know.

"Relapse? What happened to me?"

She demanded. Her mum hadn't mentioned anything about a relapse. Greg hadn't realised that she didn't know and right now he really didn't want to think anymore into it.

"Don't worry about that now. Why don't you just get some rest okay? You must be tired."

She stared at him, wanting an answer and when she wanted something this much she was going to get it.

"Hand me my chart."

She said holding a hand out, careful not to reawaken the pain too much. Greg sighed.

"Beth..."

"My chart please Greg."

He sighed, knowing that there was no arguing with her when she was like this. He stood and lifted the chart from the end of the bed and handed it to her. He watched as her eyes scanned the medical jargon on the pages and decided to tell her what he knew, the chart would only tell her so much.

"The bullet that hit you in the shoulder was close to your heart. They lost you once on the operating table but they managed to get you back. The relapse was due to a pulmonary embolism and you'd been in a coma since then."

He told her. The restless feeling he'd been fighting took over and he stood and paced across the room. Beth kept staring at the chart, shocked that she'd been so close to death. In all respects she had been dead for a while. She looked back up at him.

"I didn't know."

Greg looked back at her from across the room.

"Why would you?" He said with a small smile. He took a deep breath and headed back over. "But you're awake now and that's all that matters. The Doctor's have said that you're making good progress already and it won't be long before you're up and about again."

Beth watched him, realising how much he had been affected by the events.

"I'm sorry."

She told him for the second time that day.

"Stop apologising! None of this is your fault. It just happened."

"I know. But I'm still sorry for making you worry so much."

"What are you like eh? You're the one laying in a hospital bed and you're worried about me."

He gave her a gentle smile and brushed the hair off her forehead as he spoke. She felt the familiar tug at her heartstrings and forced herself to ignore it. She couldn't think about that now. She just had to focus on getting better. Greg noticed that she was getting tired again.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

He told her, she'd barely nodded and closed her eyes before sleep took over.

"Oh, and by the way..." He whispered. "I'm in love with you."

Well...? Any good? Did you enjoy that? Any questions? Constructive criticism?