Naya sat on the chapel's bench and stared out to the crucified figure that hung on the centre of the altar. The past three days were the longest days of her life. She had always worn that uncertain look. Her shoulders sagged and she couldn't care less if she was sleeping in a sitting position.

"Hey, Nay…" Mark looked at her worriedly. His face somewhat aged older, but not as much as Naya's

"Hey, Mark," Naya just nodded at her friend. Her eyes wore dark circles under them, her lips were chapped and her voice was just barely above a whisper. Dianna walked towards the brunette with a cup in her hands.

"Nay…you should eat," Dianna said worriedly.

"I…don't feel like…it," Naya weakly pushed Dianna away. If Lea had been there, who was luckily staying over at Kevin's place, Naya could have heard the Michele girl yapping about getting anorexia.

"Please…" Dianna was pleading.

Mark crossed his arms. "Rivera, I swear on my head if you don't eat now, I'd literally bite your head off."

"Mark…" Naya protested weakly. Her body was too weak to consider anything and nag at Mark. She just wants to see Heather wake up.

Chord Overstreet arrived, along with Darren Criss and Jane Lynch. The elder woman then sat by Naya.

"Naya…do you think she'd want to wake up on how much a mess you are? Let's go eat and fix you," Jane's warm hand grazed upon Naya's trembling ones.

"I don't know…she doesn't deserve all these…" Naya started to sob.

"Shhh…" Jane rubbed Naya's back. Her heart poured out for the Latina. She had known how much Naya had felt for Heather. And she can just see through the Latina's eyes that it is killing her.

"No one deserved it, Naya…" Darren came up behind his friend.

"Darren…oh how much I'd pay for it! Just to see her wake up…" Naya wailed.

"Shh…come on, let's grab that meal."

A week had passed and each mealtime, Naya had to be dragged. It's either Mark, Jane or Darren dragging her towards the canteen. Naya had become immobile, only staring at the door of the intensive care or staying at the chapel, silently praying.

"Where is she?" Ryan Murphy asked Cory with worry.

"There," Cory looked at Naya, who was leaning on the glass door, whose tears are silently falling from her tan cheeks.

"I'm worried for her," Cory said.

"I know. She hasn't been in that state, ever."

"Ryan, doesn't she have work?"

"She has. Just a few takes, though. I think she can pass it up till next week."

"Oh, because I was just thinking, if you can convince her to go back to Los Angeles, maybe she wouldn't be in this state of condition for too long," Cris Colfer stated, his voice laced with worry.

"That's what I came here for. I know she'd worry and she'd get into some shit and stuff but I did not know it was this bad."

"We really appreciate your help, Ryan."

"Nahh, I feel like you were my kids and sisters, so for friendship's sakes," Ryan smiled a small smile as he walked up towards Naya.

"Hey," Naya did not react or yelp at Ryan's touch. She just looked at him with dark, lifeless brown eyes.

"Hi," she answered.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, Ryan."

"Don't want to come back to Los Angeles?"

"I'll wait till she wakes up."

"Listen, Naya, it's a coma. You just don't know when she will wake up. You can't throw your life away."

"She needs me."

She often wondered who she was convincing.

"Listen, the best thing you can do is live for her. Naya, do you think Hemo would want to know that you're here, beating around the bush uselessly and throwing your good life away? Of course she won't."

"I don't know. She'll need someone. Taylor has left her. She had lost her baby. I'm not going to leave her. I'm staying," Naya replied hysterically, as if she was trying to convince Ryan.

"Hey, come here. I won't leave you, too. But judging from what I heard, you're not going well with the roads here. I think it's time for you to go back to Los Angeles and let's work then spend some time with Hemo, how about that?"

Naya was too tired to argue. Besides, Ryan knew how to make life work for her. She knew that Ryan cares for her. She gave out a little sigh and nodded.

"That's it, good girl."

Later that night, Ryan and Naya flew back to Los Angeles. The week had dragged for Naya, she had visited Heather back at Presbyterian. Another week, she cancelled an interview to spend her Friday night till Sunday with Heather. The days turned to a month.

Then it dragged to two months…three…four…five months. Heather hasn't woken up.

Naya sat up in the seat and looked at the pale face in front of her. There were blonde locks straying across the face, yet Heather did not shake it off.

"Hemo, please come back," Naya sniffed as she held her best friend's hand. Her sniffs were indented by the small constant beeps from the bedside monitor.

"We miss you so much. I miss you so much," Naya closed her eyes and pictured Heather, healthy, smiling and alive.

She opened her eyes when an unusual long beep pierced across the silent air. Naya's mind swooped from up to down when she saw a vehement long single line run across the bedside monitor.

"Doctor! Shit! Goddamnit!" Naya cursed as her mind suddenly waved from the adrenaline rush. Two men in doctor's gowns rushed and hovered over Heather.

"Heather…please," Naya was beyond scared.

"We're losing her!"

"Get me a CPR!"

"Morphine!"

"Don't you'd kill her!"

"Fuck it."

"Hemo, please…" Naya let out a strangled whimper. "Oh, God…please don't take her yet…not now…"

"She's gone!"

"Try again."

Naya rose up and held Heather's hand. "Heather, you're a fighter. Please, please…" fresh, hot tears fell from Naya's eyes.

As if it was a dream, the monitor beeped back again, slowly, it beeped twice, thrice. The pace was going faster.

After the close brush with death, Naya was still shocked and sat on the chair. The doctor was approaching her.

"So what about her, doctor? Is she safe?"

"We think so. We were very surprised she came back. I really thought we lost her."

"She's a fighter, doctor."

"Seems like it. I think she will be fine, after all," the doctor smiled and excused himself. Naya smiled at Heather, who was peacefully sleeping than ever.

"I hate you, Hemo. Somehow, if you were in a better shape than now, I could've slapped you," she clicked her tounge and picked up that day's newspaper. Her eyes fell on the column beside the headline. It was just a filler-in article, yet Naya's heart contracted when she read the bold-lettered header.

Taylor Hubbell engaged to new Russian girlfriend.

She continued on.

"…it is further claimed that Taylor Hubbell had received an affirmation from court that he is divorced to Heather Morris, who is currently in a comatose state…"

There was an excerpt from Taylor's interview.

"…no one wanted this tragedy to happen…it's just that, people just change…I'm still there for Heather however…it's just that, Mika and I had been fit together…"

Naya threw the paper away. "Douchebag," she muttered under her breath and looked at the girl who mattered to her, more than the whole world. Then she chanced to see the wedding band around the blonde's finger.

"Fuck it," hot tears ran through Naya's cheeks.