So, chapter eleven. Wow, I can't believe how much I have written of this story. This chapter will push it over 50,000 words, making it the longest story I have written so far. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed/sent lovely messages about the last chapter. I really loved writing that one and it was so nice to hear that you guys enjoyed reading it. I got a little carried away with this one, and so it is one of the longest ones I have written so far, but I think there are some nice surprises (well, they're not actually so surprising) in there that you guys will like. As always, I would love to hear what you think. I'll try to get the next chapter done soon. I have an exam on next week which means I should study which actually means I am going to have a Rush marathon. It's not really a concious decision I make, but every time I have an important exam I end up having a Rush marathon instead of studying. So hopefully that should bring about some ideas for the next few chapters. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Rush or any of the characters or the lines I borrowed.


Chapter Eleven

It's all I want. I can't help it – Michael Sandrelli

As soon as Stella was done dealing with the incident that Tactical Response had been called to, she headed straight to the hospital, eager for some news on Michael's condition. Stella was dropped off at the hospital as the other team members made their way back to base. They would come and check on Michael later once they had gotten changed, but Stella didn't have time for that. She had to see Michael.

When Stella arrived at the hospital, she enquired at the desk to find out where Michael was before making her way to the ward she had been directed to. As she entered the ward, she found Audrey sitting in the waiting room. The other woman looked up from the magazine she was reading to glance at Stella, her expression neither welcoming nor hostile. Stella supposed that there was no hiding now; she would just have to face Audrey. Besides, she wanted to find out about Michael.

"Hey," she said as she took a seat next to Audrey. There was an air of awkwardness that hung between them, after all, it was only a few hours earlier that that Stella had yelled at Audrey and pushed her away from Michael, yet that was all in the past. There were more important matters to deal with now.

"How is he?" Stella asked, worried about what she might hear.

"He went in for surgery about half an hour ago," Audrey explained, cutting straight to the point.

Stella nodded in reply. Surgery was to be expected. It was a serious injury, they weren't just going to stick a bandaid on it and send him home. She knew that she shouldn't be overly concerned about the surgery, but she couldn't stop the worry that gnawed at her stomach.

Silence fell upon them as they waited. Audrey resumed reading her magazine while Stella alternated between twisting her hands in her lap and pacing up and down the waiting room. Time seemed to pass slowly. Surely they should be done by now. She wasn't sure if the fact that it was taking so long was a good thing or a bad thing.

Stella glanced up at the sound of someone entering the room. It was a nurse. Her heard raced. Would it be good news or bad news?

"Stella?" the nurse called to the half empty waiting room. Stella stood up, hoping that she would bring good news. "Michael's asking for you."

Stella breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive. She followed the nurse out of the room, listening as she explained Michael's condition.

"The surgery was a success," the nurse spoke. "He's awake and recovering well, but he has lost a lot of blood, so we are going to keep him in for a week or so while he recovers."

Stella nodded. It was to be expected. She was just glad that he was still alive. It was not so long ago that she hadn't even known that for sure. She had been so sure that she was going to lose him that day. The thought had terrified her. She didn't know what she would do without him in her life.

They stopped outside Michael's room and Stella was left to enter alone. She gingerly walked through the door and stuck her head around the curtain, seeing Michael lying there facing away from her. The second she entered, Michael lifted his head and turned it towards her, smiling as he noticed her standing there. It was almost as if something had alerted him to her presence, but he hadn't been told, he had just known she was there.

"Hey," he managed to murmur, smiling weakly at her.

"Hey," repeated Stella as she walked over to him. Michael reached out, half blindly reaching for her hand, unable to lift his head or hand. He was okay now, but he was still weak and had a long road to recovery. Stella reached for his hand, saving him the trouble of searching for her. This brought a small smile to his lips.

"How are you feeling?" Stella asked as she sat in the chair next to his bed, still holding his hand.

"Alive," Michael replied groggily. He was still drowsy from his operation.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, Sandrelli," Stella chastitised. She was just so relieved that he was okay, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to tell him off for nearly dying on her. She had really thought that she was going to lose him.

"You were worried," Michael muttered, managing a weak smirk. Inside, he was ecstatic that she cared so much. Deep down, he knew that she did, but it was still nice to see her show it openly.

"Yes," she admitted seriously. Michael squeezed her hand to reassure her that he was still there. He would not leave her.

"Stel," Michael murmured. He could feel himself fading, but he had something important to say to Stella first. It was time.

"Stel," he began again. He would use the last of his energy to tell her, but he was stopped as Stella put her hand on his arm, silencing him. She could see how exhausted he was. He needed to rest. The day had taken a lot out of him.

"Don't," she soothed. There would be time to talk later.

"No," Michael protested. He had to tell her.

"Shh, get some rest," Stella replied. "I'll be right here the entire time."

Michael looked at Stella, really looking at her. He took in the sight of her sitting there. She looked tired, about as tired as he felt. She was still in her uniform and he could see the stains left on it by his blood. She had had a long day. She looked exhausted. Michael knew that that couldn't be good for her or the baby.

"Go," Michael ordered weakly. "Get some rest and then come back."

Stella was about to protest, but she couldn't deny that a shower and some sleep sounded pretty good. She was exhausted, mentally and physically, but she didn't want to leave Michael, not after she had come so close to losing him.

"Go," Michael repeated, sensing her hesitation. "Come back tomorrow. I'll still be here."

He chuckled weakly at his last words, but they both knew that they were no laughing matter. He had come very close to not making it at all, but he was recovering now. He would get better with time and care.

"Okay," Stella finally relented, her exhaustion winning out. He was in good hands here. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow. I promise."

"Mmm," Michael responded drowsily, his eyes shutting of their own accord. He too had had a long day and was exhausted from the effort of fighting for his life. Before sleep claimed him, Stella heard him murmur one last word, a word that weakened her resolve and very nearly convinced her to stay.

"Stella."

Silently, so as not to wake him, Stella stood up to leave. When she reached the door, she turned back for one last glance at Michael. He slept peacefully, oblivious to the rest of the world. She stood there for a moment – a minute, five, ten, she wasn't exactly sure – watching Michael as he slept. He was alive. Stella felt like she could finally breathe again. Just as she was leaving, she heard him speak again.

"Stella." Stella stopped in her tracks, turning back to Michael. He was still asleep, calling to her from the land of dreams.

"Stella, I..." he murmured, trailing off. Then he fell silent, his soft breathing and the beep of the machines the only sounds that could be heard in the room.

Finally Stella tore herself away from Michael and left the hospital. She felt like she should stay, she didn't want to run this time, and she wasn't, but she knew that she had to get some rest. She would be no use to anyone if she was worn down with exhaustion. She also knew that Michael would worry about her if she didn't, and he didn't need that extra stress right now. As she walked away from the building, she realised that there was a solitary tear trailing down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away, her mind filled with thoughts of Michael lying back in hospital. What had he been trying to say? It sounded as if he wanted to tell her something. Did he or was she just imagining it? Was it all just a dream?


Two hours later, Stella settled down in her bed, ready to get some rest. She lay there, willing her eyes to close so she could get some sleep, yet they refused to cooperate, staying stubbornly open. She was exhausted, but she couldn't fall asleep. Her mind was racing, and her thoughts all had one common element: Michael. Stella knew that bed wasn't the place she had to be.

Stella got out of bed and threw on some clothes. She grabbed her keys and her badge – she figured that a cop coming to check on a critically injured colleague would have a much better chance of getting into the ward outside visiting hours than a girl who just needed her best friend – before making her way out the door back to the hospital, back to Michael.

When she arrived at the hospital, she made her way straight to Michael, only to be stopped by a nurse just as she was about to sneak into his room.

"Constable Dagostino," Stella announced, holding up her badge for the nurse to see. "I'm here to see Constable Sandrelli. I need to see him right away."

Stella was determined to get in to see Michael; no stupid visiting hours were going to stop her from visiting her best friend. The nurse seemed to think it over for a moment before replying, "I'm not supposed to let visitors in at this hour, but go on."

"Thank you," Stella replied, turning towards Michael's room, only to be stopped as the nurse spoke again.

"You must be Stella," the nurse said. Stella nodded, curious as the how she knew who she was. Then the nurse continued. "You're all he's spoken about since he's been conscious. He's been asking for you non-stop, he's even mentioned your name a few times in his sleep. He obviously cares a lot about you."


The blackness, it was returning, threatening to swallow Michael up. It had been beaten before, by love. It had been lenient on Michael, letting him slip through its fingers then pulling him back, only to release him again. But it was changing. It was colder now, harsher, darker, unforgiving. Left alone, Michael was vulnerable. In sleep, he fought, struggling against the cold grip that was trying to drag him back to death.

Michael was back on the island, blood pouring from him and the spear embedded in his stomach. While, previously, consciousness and unconsciousness seemed to almost blend together, letting Michael effortlessly slip between the two, there now seemed to be two distinct states: consciousness and unconsciousness; light and dark; life and death.

Michael knew that this was the point where Stella was supposed to turn up to save him, to help him hold onto life, to fight for him, but she was nowhere to be found. He called out for her, his throat aching and his body weak from the pain, but she still didn't show up.

"Stella," he called, his voice small and almost impossible to hear. "Stella."

But Stella wasn't there. She saved him, this had happened, this had to happen, but Stella wasn't here to save him now. He was dying. He fought to stay alive, but there was no reason now. He was destined to die now or continue living alone in pain. Neither option seemed appealing; Michael wanted Stella. Her name left his lips one last time, one last desperate plea for her to come and save him.

"Stella."

Michael felt a hand on his shoulder as he woke up and sensed a presence in the room that had not previously been there. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was, yet he did so all the same. He opened his eyes to find Stella at his bedside, a worried expression clouding her face.

"Hey," he murmured as a small smile crept onto his face. He was okay now.

"Hey yourself," Stella replied, sitting down on the bed next to Michael. "Bad dream?"

"It's better now," Michael responded. And it was. Stella had come to save him, not in the dream, but in real life. It was this moment that Michael seemed to realise that it was nearing midnight and Stella was there at the hospital with him.

"You're supposed to be resting," he accused, though he was glad that she was there with him.

"So are you," Stella countered before her teasing facade slipped away to be replaced with a more somber expression as she spoke again. "I couldn't sleep."

Michael nodded, understanding, and moved over slightly in the small hospital bed, making room for Stella next to him. After a moment's hesitation, Stella kicked off her shoes and climbed in next to Michael, settling into his uninjured side. His free arm lay around her shoulders while his other arm was attached to a multitude of machines. Stella immediately felt herself relaxing, the sleep that had evaded her earlier that night rolling over her like a wave. She was just about to drift off when she heard Michael speak again.

"Stel." His voice was small and meek, a side only she was allowed to see. It reflected his fear. "I nearly died today."

There was no point in denying it. He had nearly died, he should have died, yet somehow he lived on. Stella's response was to wrap her arm around Michael's chest, pulling him closer to her, as if that action alone could stop him from being taken from her. If she held on tight enough, then he couldn't die.

"Don't," she protested, her voice coming out as more a whisper than a word, a soft plea. But Michael wasn't going to stop this time. He had waited long enough to say this, and Stella had waited long enough to hear it, even if she wasn't exactly sure what she was waiting for. If there was one thing that this experience had taught Michael, it was that life is uncertain and he has to make the most of the opportunities he is given. And he was determined to do just this. He wasn't going to waste another day by not telling Stella how he felt.

"Stella," he began seriously, gazing down at her. "Do you remember what I said to you last year after I went chasing down those guys who stole the armoured vehicle?" It appeared that he was going to neglect to mention the part where he was held hostage and had nearly gotten himself killed, but he would do that. He preferred to speak of his victories rather than his failures. After he received no response from Stella, he continued on.

"I told you I want you to be with me," he clarified. Stella remained silent, thinking back to that day.

Stella walked over to Michael, feeling as though there was something that needed to be said between them. Yet they both remained silent. She turned to walk away, confused once again, only to be stopped as Michael called for her.

"Stel."

Stella turned around at the sound of Michael's voice. He was standing there looking to her, yet she didn't have any answers for him. He was the one who had to give her some. She would wait for him to make the first move, although he might need some encouragement.

"What, Michael?" She was straight to the point. This was neither the time nor the place for their games.

"I want you to be with me," he spoke after a moment's hesitation. He was serious, so serious. Stella couldn't stop herself from shying away from it.

"It's all I want. I can't help it," he continued .There was nothing more to it. It was something that he couldn't control; he couldn't just stop it or turn it off. It overpowered him and left him vulnerable.

"Michael," she began, only to be cut off by Michael as he tried to justify himself.

"Well, I can't." There was something in his eyes which told Stella not to doubt his sincerity, he was putting himself out there, yet she couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. Instead all she could offer was a weak apology.

"Well I'm sorry," was all she could respond with.

Unable to take the look of complete and utter dejection on his face – the one that spelled one thing: heartbreak – Stella turned to walk away, hastily wiping at her eyes as she did so. She wasn't sure if it was just from the upset of nearly losing Michael that day, but she felt like something inside her was breaking, and with every step she took the pain seemed to intensify, telling her that she was going in the wrong direction. Yet she continued to walk away, leaving Michael to tend his wounded pride and his broken heart.

"You said that it was all you wanted, that you couldn't help it," she added softly.

"It's still all I want," Michael replied truthfully. "Every day, all I want is you." Stella turned her head to glance at Michael, her eyes locking with his before he continued.

"Stella, I love you."

Stella turned away, unable to take the intensity of his gaze. She had no reason to doubt his words, the truth was there in his eyes, laid out bare for her to see, and that was what scared her the most. This was real. This was new. Yet there was something that was holding her there, stopping her from running as she so often did when things got serious with Michael.

The room was silent aside from the rhythmical beeping of the machines. Michael waited with bated breath, hoping that he hadn't just ruined their friendship beyond repair. But they would get through this, they always did. Michael just hoped that they could get this and come out stronger, united, together.

Stella knew that she should say something, he was waiting for her response, but all she could find to give him were two measly words.

"I know."

Did she know? Not up until now, not really. She supposed that there was a part of her, deep down, that had always known it, but had she known it on the surface? Yes. No. She had always known that he felt something for her, but she had always brushed off these thoughts, telling herself that Michael's feelings would change. Yet they never changed, at least not in the way Stella told herself they would. They only grew.

Michael hesitated for a moment, unsure how to take her response. It wasn't exactly what he had hoped to hear. In the end, he just pulled her closer, holding her. She hadn't run from him, and for that he was grateful. Acceptance was the first step. Admittance of reciprocation would come later. Michael was prepared to wait to hear her say those words back to him. He knew the day would come, just like he had known that the day would come when he would say those words to her, and it had. Yet just because Stella hadn't returned his admission of love, it didn't mean that another victory couldn't be achieved that night.

"I mean what I said," Michael spoke, breaking the silence. "I do want you to be with me, and I can't help it. I've tried, but I can't. "

Silence fell upon them once more. Michael was unsure if Stella had even heard him. She was so silent and still that Michael wasn't sure if she was even awake. But then she spoke, her voice so soft and small that at first Michael had thought he was imagining it.

"But I am with you."

A smile spread onto Michael's face at her words. As quiet as she was, he had heard her. He gently pressed his lips to her head, the kiss in itself a token of gratitude, a gesture that he understood that she couldn't say she loved him back yet, but that he was accepting whatever part of herself she would give him, however much of herself she would give him. He knew that in time he would win over the piece that mattered, her heart. Unbeknownst to him, and Stella too, he already had.

With this victory to claim as his own, Michael let his weary eyes close, holding Stella close and smiling to himself as he drifted off to sleep. This time, the nightmares didn't return. Instead they were replaced with pleasant dreams, many of which featured Stella and some which even featured their baby. Michael was at peace. He was happy.


The next morning, Michael awoke to find Stella still asleep in his arms. He smiled, which soon turned to a grimace of pain as he was reminded of the spear he had taken to his gut the previous day. He laid his head back against the pillow, his eyes shutting as he tried to fight back the pain, stifling back a gasp yet failing to stop the groan that followed.

He felt Stella stirring next to him, probably waking in response to the way his entire body seemed to tense at the pain. She took a moment to adjust to her surroundings. Once she remembered where she was, her gaze travelled up Michael's body until she met his eyes.

"Morning," she murmured sleepily as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

Michael was about to reply, but the only response he could form was another groan. Concern instantly clouded Stella's face, but it began to wane as a nurse entered the room with pain medication for Michael. It was the same nurse that Stella had seen the previous night.

Stella awkwardly moved in the bed, wondering if the chair next to it would be a more appropriate place to be. She supposed that barging in in the middle of the night and sharing a patient's bed was not high on the list of things that visitors should be doing. But the knowing smile that the nurse gave her put her at ease and convinced her to stay, that combined with the fact that the muscles in Michael's hand had contracted around her arm in pain. She gently placed her hand on Michael's, loosening his grip as it was starting to hurt her. Michael shot her and apologetic look when he realised what he was doing, but Stella could still see from his tense expression that he was in pain.

Silently, the nurse exited the room, leaving Michael and Stella to their own devices. Stella could see the pain leaving Michael's eyes as the meds began to kick in and felt Michael relax next to her as relief came to him.

The pair lay there for some undetermined amount of time – as always, Stella seemed to lose track of time when she was in his arms. They spent the time just enjoying each other's company. For once, nothing needed to be said between them, even though Stella was yet to return Michael's words. Michael's confession of love had given her a lot to think about. She had no doubt in her mind that it was true, the only doubts she had were about her feelings in return. They still remained an ever changing, complicated mess to her. But they were okay for now. Michael was prepared to give Stella the time she needed to figure them out. He knew they existed in some form or shape, but Stella just had to figure out what they meant. At least she knew the truth about how he felt now. Michael felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His admission had brought with it a breath of fresh air and a feeling of pride. He had finally done it.

When breakfast came, Stella stole a piece of toast from Michael's tray. It was the only thing there that looked half edible. She made a mental note to pick up some decent food for Michael, even though he seemed to be stomaching the processed mush they labelled as food quite fine. As Stella munched on her toast, she remembered the last time she had stolen Michael's breakfast. She thought back to the way Michael had chased her through the house, the way he had held her as he tried in vain to retrieve his breakfast. Had they been together then? No, not really. Were they together now? Yes, Stella's gut was telling her yes. She knew that Michael had not missed the meaning behind her last words the previous night. This, combined with Michael's confession, was the most that had ever been said about their relationship. If she had to put a label on it, she would say that they were together now. This was what it was like when they were together before, yet there was something more. Michael's confession had changed things between them. Stella just hoped that he had changed things for the better. She needed him now more than ever.

As they lay there peacefully, breakfast dishes discarded to the side, Stella glanced at the clock. Much to her disappointment, she realised that she had to go. Prior engagements that could not be put off called her. As much as she didn't want to leave Michael's side, she knew she had to. Michael noticed her moving to get up and leave and gave her a look that resembled that of a wounded puppy dog, his eyes pleading with her to stay.

"Where are you going?" he asked, wondering if he could convince her to stay.

"I've got an ultrasound," she replied. This seemed to get Michael's attention.

"I want to come," he announced. If it was something to do with the baby, then he wanted to be there. He was not going to make the same mistake twice. He would be there this time.

"Michael, you can't, you can barely sit up let alone make it to the appointment," Stella reasoned. She knew that Michael wanted to be there, she wanted him there too, but it just wasn't going to happen that day.

Michael tried to sit up to prove her wrong only to slump back down moments later in defeat. He wasn't going to make it to the appointment that day. He just had to accept it.

"Are you going to find out the sex of the baby this time?" he asked, almost sounding worried. He really wanted to know, but at the same time he wanted to be there when Stella found out. It was his child too, and he felt that he should get to find out when she did. It was something that they should find out together.

Stella could almost sense his thoughts on the matter; she could tell that he wanted to be there to find out. Sometimes he was so easy to read, yet other times he was a complete mystery to her.

"No," Stella replied, shaking her head. "You should be there when I find out. We'll find out together next time."

This seemed to satisfy Michael. He nodded, smiling with relief. If he couldn't be there today, then this was the best he could hope for.

"You have to come back right away and tell me about it," Michael said. "I want to know everything."

Stella nodded, promising that she would do that. She could do this much for him. Michael was finally looking to take an active role in the baby's life. Stella stood up to leave, only to be stopped by Michael. There was one last thing that he wanted before she left.

"Stel, kiss me," he requested. Stella leaned over the bed, gently pressing her lips to his for a moment before pulling away. That would be enough to keep him alive and fighting until she got back.


The time passed slowly for Michael. It was a mix of sleep and consciousness, pain and relief. The nurses came by every so often to check on him and bring him medication and he had a brief visit from his parents, but aside from that he was alone. Michael used his solitude to think about Stella. He was so glad that she hadn't run from him. They were alive, safe and together.

A few hours later, Stella returned from her appointment laden with food, yet it wasn't the food that caught Michael's attention, it was the large looking official-looking envelope that Stella carried under her arm.

"What's that?" Michael enquired upon noticing it.

Stella placed the food down on the table before opening the envelope and showing Michael what was inside. She resumed her spot next to Michael in bed as she pulled the photographs from the envelope. They were pictures from the ultrasound. Stella decided that if Michael couldn't make it to the scan, then she would bring as much of it back with her as she could. It was obvious that he had wanted to be there this time and he would have if he was not confined to bed.

"So everything went okay?" Michael asked, anxious to know how it went.

"Yep, everything's all good," Stella responded. "Eighteen weeks to go."

The two sat in silence as Stella's words sunk in. It wasn't long now. Michael wrapped his arm around Stella, pulling her in close as she laid her head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence and support.

"Wow, that's our baby," Michael said in amazement as he looked at the pictures.

Stella nodded, feeling as though she couldn't speak. It was their baby, but it wasn't. She knew she should tell him. She wondered if she should confess what she had done, but she couldn't, not when things were finally going so well for them. She couldn't jeopardise this. For the first time in weeks, Stella felt guilt fill her stomach.

"I'd better go," she announced. "I've got to work this afternoon."

Michael glanced up from the photos for the first time, giving Stella a forlorn look that just screamed 'don't leave me'. But she had to go. Michael knew it.

"I'll leave these here," she continued, gesturing towards the photos. This seemed to cheer Michael up, yet Stella couldn't shake the feeling that she was just being cruel by giving Michael this hope.

Stella leaned over to kiss Michael, her hand sliding down to gently cup his cheek. He didn't ask her this time, he didn't need to. Yet, all too soon, she pulled away.

"I'll be back tonight," she promised, watching as Michael nodded in reply, adoration shining in his eyes.

With that, she left the room, leaving Michael alone with the pictures and his false hope.