Time seemed to pass by so slowly in this hospital, Mary Margaret realized as she watched over William's body in his private hospital room. Minutes had felt like hours, and hours had felt like days. By the time he was out of emergency surgery to repair severe damage the accident had caused, Mary Margaret felt like she hadn't slept for weeks. Exhaustion had settled over finally, and she was grateful to the doctors who had wheeled in a cot so she could spend the night with him until he awoke.

Still, in the quiet darkness of his private room, she hadn't been able to fall asleep. The cot was set up next to his bed, offering enough room for all the chords and machines, but not too much a distance so she couldn't gently reach out and touch him if she wanted to. Mary Margaret had only touched him once, to make sure he was really there. When she felt warm skin underneath her cold, shaking fingertips, she hadn't been able to pull away. To feel him and know that, in this moment, he was safe made Mary Margaret comfortable enough to at least settle, relaxed, on the cot.

Mary Margaret was certain she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Somehow, exhaustion had proven impossible to fight and she'd found herself drifting off to sleep, her hand holding his gently so she'd know he was there throughout the night. She just needed to feel him, to know that he was all right.

The doctors had told her they were lucky; if they, or the other driver, had travelled any faster, it would have been a much different story. Mary Margaret had walked away from the accident with a mild concussion, whiplash, and the gash on her forehead that hurt the least. William, however, had sustained more intense injuries - and even though the doctors assured her he would be fine with rest and time, the thought that those injuries might have killed him...It had caused her to cry herself to sleep.

Sleep had proven impossible to fight, but the memory of the accident had created a deep insomnia and paranoia in her heart that any movement summoned her from sleep. A rustling of sheets and a deep, pained groan woke her from her light sleep. Even through the darkness and grogginess, Mary Margaret could see William moving gently underneath the thin sheet of the hospital bed. It took her a few moments to realize what the action meant, but as soon as it registered, she bolted up in bed and quickly moved so she was completely beside him in a chair. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, eyes hopeful when he groaned again and shifted, uncomfortable, against the hard mattress. "William?"

"Why do I feel like I was hit by a truck?"

"We kind of were," she answered with a gentle smile despite his short, wheezing breath that the doctor told her was common in his condition. "You had me really worried there, you know."

He groaned again. "What happened?"

She squeezed his hand gently. "What do you remember?"

William sighed, trying to remember what had happened. "All...There was this light and...I don't really know what happened after that. I mean...I remember pain. Being in pain. And my chest...It felt like I was being crushed." Though he could feel her hand in his, gentle and reassuring, William searched for her in the dark. If not for the pain ripping through his abdomen, he would have sat up to touch her. "Are you okay, Mary Margaret?"

"I'm okay." Seeing his failed attempt, she leaned forward so she could place a soft kiss on his lips. When she finally pulled away, she whispered, her voice tortured, "I didn't think I'd ever get to do that again." Faintly, she could see his body shake in a chuckle, his face contorting in pain from the action. "Why don't you relax?"

"Relax? In this hospital bed? I'd more sooner stand and walk around like you do." William smiled gently. "Do you remember what happened, Mary Margaret?"

"Vaguely," she answered. That wasn't true. She remembered all of it. Most importantly, the flashing of the truck in front of them as it cut them off, the way he suddenly swerved the wheel, and how remarkably safe she had felt when he had tried to protect her from the blow of the accident with his own body as the car was hit. "You're lucky to be alive, William."

"Hooper tell you that?" He smiled again. "He says that to me every day."

Mary Margaret shook her head with a laugh. "No, no. Some doctor named Polk or Pock or..."

"It's Pork," he finished for her, chuckling when she buried her face in her hands to stifle her own laughter. "Yeah...People give him shit about it. Isn't it ironic that he's tall and lean? I don't think he has an ounce of fat on him."

"I didn't think so, either." Mary Margaret would have said something else if William didn't cough, sputtering with a pained face. She gently reached to stroke his cheek, nothing how he really needed a good shave. "Hey, are you all right?"

"How many ribs did I break?"

"Aren't you not supposed to self diagnose?" Her jest didn't amuse him as he eyed her carefully until she relented, "One or two. The doctors said the broken rib punctured a lung and made it collapse."

"Shit." He looked down. That would explain the tubes coming out of his chest connected to the Heimlich valve. Over the years, William had completed this procedure on many other patients, but to experience it first hand was an entirely different revelation.

"They did it while you were awake, too," Mary Margaret told him gently. "So that might be one of the reasons why you feel so much pain. Your doctor said it's extraordinarily painful. Do you remember anything about it?"

He shook his head. "Just pain and lights. This bright light."

"That was the light to the emergency room. Heaven better not have been calling your name. I would have been pissed." Mary Margaret watched him as he exhaled deeply, the action again causing him significant pain. "Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head. "There is a bright side, though."

"Oh?"

"I get awesome painkillers," he commented. William had hoped she'd smile at that, but when he only saw a fixed, concerned face, he held back a sigh that would only cause him more pain. William couldn't imagine what she must have felt in the moments following the crash or her wait for him to awaken. Tenderly, he squeezed her hand. "Hey, come here."

Mary Margaret smiled, leaning up so she could kiss him again. Lingering for a moment sent chills down her spine as she remembered how close she'd been to thinking she'd lost him. A feeling so intense washed over her that when she pulled away, her hands cupped his cheeks. "I am so thankful you're okay."

His hands caught her wrists. "Me too, Mary Margaret. Me, too. I really had you going there for a while, didn't I?"

"You did." She tenderly reached up stroke his cheek, smiling when he leaned into her touch. "Don't do that ever again, okay?"

"I'll try."

"That's not funny," Mary Margaret murmured softly, shaking her head when he smiled. He was doing everything he could to stop from laughing. "Should I stop talking?"

"Oh, no," he rushed out quickly. "Don't stop talking. I...I love the sound of your voice."

Her smile ended, replaced by a tear as she kissed him again. "How about we just relax at your place when you get out of here?"

"It might be a while," he commented softly. A new thought hit him as he asked, curious and worried, "What happened to you Mary Margaret?"

She cupped his hand gently as his fingers reached out to touch the band-aid on her forehead, stopping just centimeters short, as if he was too afraid to realize the accident had caused her pain. "I'm okay William, really. Just a little cut and some whiplash. They're even letting me go back to work on Monday."

William smiled. "Will you come here again?"

"You want another kiss?"

"Yes please."

When she finally pulled away from him, she smiled at the amused frustration on his face. "What is it, William?"

"If it wasn't for that damn truck," he told her with a shake of his head, "we'd be in Vermont at the bed and breakfast. Preferably in bed."

Mary Margaret laughed gently. "Most definitely." She kissed him again. "I am so glad that you're all right, William. You...You have no idea."

William smiled again. "I think I have some idea." He sighed softly when she only grinned again. "Hey, why don't you go home and get some actual rest? That cot cannot be comfortable. And there's no reason for you to stay here-"

"Stop."

He did, watching her carefully, his eyes wide and glazed over in surprise and apprehension at her tone. "What?"

"Don't sit here and tell me there is no reason for me to stay here with you tonight. I...I'm staying William. And that's that."

His mouth curled in a bemused grin. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes," she answered firmly, kissing him again gently. "You're stuck with me tonight."

"I like that. Even though I much would prefer being in Vermont right now," he added after a moment with a smirk. "But this will do. It's better than the alternative."

"Which is?"

"I'd be on a steel slab instead of a hospital bed," he answered matter-of-factly. He tensed, waiting for a stern look that never came. Instead he felt guilt to see tears in her eyes. "Oh, Mary Margaret, I didn't..." William stopped talking when she fiercely pulled away from him, returning to the cot to sit and furiously wipe her tears. "Mary Margaret..."

Her eyes perked up at his gentle coax. When she looked up to see his hand extended to her, she sniffled. "You said my name after the crash, too."

"I thought you said you didn't remember much?" He asked with a wry smile.

Mary Margaret shook her head, looking down at her twisted hands. Murmuring softly, she admitted, "I never could forget that."

Her sad words sobered the humor he was trying to cheer her up with. Uncomfortable, William shifted and stretched his hand toward her again. "Mary Margaret," he told her, his voice soft, "please come here."

She looked up at him hesitantly. "You promise you won't talk about death anymore?"

"I promise," he answered honestly, smiling when she took his hand and leaned beside him. Though his entire body ached, he leaned up, trying to fight through the pain. William resisted her help, however, before he turned to face her. Commenting, he told her, "That really hurt."

Mary Margaret smiled finally. "I figured it would." When he shook his head, grimacing, she offered, "Why don't you lay back down, William? I'll come to you." When he finally rested against the hospital bed again, she reached up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Mary Margaret smiled when he reached up to cup her cheeks, not wanting the kiss to end. Pulling away after a few moments, she remarked, "I wish I could do something to make you more comfortable."

"You're already doing it."

"How?"

William kissed her again. "Just being here. Thank you for staying here with me tonight."

Mary Margaret wasn't sure why tears trickled down her eyes when she kissed him again, pulling away only to whisper like she had a few days ago, "Always."

Their unhurried, tender kisses stopped moments later when a knock on the door was followed by its opening to allow light into the dark room. With a blush, Mary Margaret pulled away from him, sitting in the chair as the doctor - Dr. Pork - walked into the room. She grinned with William's eyes gleamed in amusement, a smile firm on his face. "Evening, Doctor."

The doctor nodded, shutting the door gently. "Do you mind if I turn on the light?"

"I very much would," William answered seriously. He smiled when Dr. Pork turned the light on anyway, walking toward them. He crossed his arms. "You don't have very good bedside manners."

"And you," Dr. Pork answered as he pulled out his stethoscope, "should limit your talking. It's bad enough you're going to have trouble breathing. Save that air, would you?"

William grinned and shook his head. "I've listened to the rules before. Not going to start now."

Dr. Pork shook his head, turning to Mary Margaret. "How can you tolerate this guy?"

"He's very lovable once you get past the ego, sarcasm, and unexpected things he does," she commented with a grin.

"This guy? Lovable? You'll get more affection from a cactus."

"Hey!" William butt in. "Would you stop hogging all the attention?" He smiled when Mary Margaret only grinned. When he received a frown from his doctor, he added, "Oh, come on! That was a good one, you have to admit."

"No, I don't." After a few moments, Dr. Pork turned to Mary Margaret and asked gently, "I hate to kick you out, but do you mind stepping outside while I examine him?"

"Hey, Pork-"

"It's okay, William," Mary Margaret told him, silencing William with a gentle hand on his forearm. She gave him a soft smile before kissing his cheek. "I think I'm going to take your advice and head home to get some rest. You need to sleep, too."

His eyes fell in disappointment. "Really?"

"I think it might be best. I'll be here first thing in the morning, though, all right? You'll call me as soon as you wake up?"

William nodded. "I will."

Mary Margaret kissed him, one final time, before she tenderly stroked his cheek and whispered, "I love you, William."

"I love you more."

After Mary Margaret had settled into her car, the weight of his words overtook her so strongly that she covered her mouth to stop the sound of her sob. The alternative really could have happened. Right now, she could be walking away from a steel slab instead of his hospital bed. The thought rocked her so suddenly that she didn't have time to fight it off and convince herself it was better not to think about that. Because it could have happened, especially with the way he had selflessly tried to protect her from shattering glass. Mary Margaret would never forget that, or the pain in her heart to think that he was dying right next to her.

Nothing hurt her more in that moment. As the darkness welcomed light and a new day, Mary Margaret knew she wasn't ready to let the doctor go. For the first time that night, she openly cried and didn't bother wiping her tears of away, tears of joy that reminded her how close they had come to having everything ripped away.

They still had time.