Author's Note: Wow! So many reviews for the last chapter. My muse and I thank you for all of them. To answer a reviewer's question about Lyla's Elven heritage, she is 1/16 Elven (her great-great-grandfather Celin was an Elf who married a human woman, his son James is half-Elven, his son Daniel is 1/4 Elven, his son John (Lyla's father) is 1/8 Elven, which makes Lyla 1/16 Elven). I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please review!

Chapter Twenty-one:

Glorfindel sank onto the couch and held his head in his hands. Valar, what had he done? Lyla was gone. He had lost her. His cruel words had driven her away, words he regretted the moment they left his lips. Why had he said such horrid things to her? How could he accuse and blame her for everything that had happened? He meant none of it, but he couldn't stop himself from uttering the damning phrases. It was as though some evil force possessed him and took control of his tongue.

The dark melancholy plaguing him, he glanced around the room and grimaced. Papers and books covered every corner of the living room: they lay scattered on the floor and settled on top of furniture. A piece of parchment occasionally fell from its resting place and listlessly floated to the floor. He knew now that the possibility of returning to Valinor had vanished. Lyla would never resume researching. And after what he said, he couldn't blame her.

Glorfindel stared at his hand. When he had touched Lyla, the heat from her skin had burned his flesh like fire. His palm was even red. He shook his head. It didn't matter anymore.

His mind wandered to the last time he and Lyla were happy together. It seemed so long ago. They had been in Valinor for almost a year; work had begun to consume him. That night exhaustion filled him, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her. However, when he reached home, Lyla was nowhere to be found.

Distressed, Glorfindel searched every room for her, ending at their bedroom. A fire blazed in the fireplace, but she wasn't in the room. As he stepped further inside, the door closed behind him, her light chuckle relaxing him. He faced her, and his heart stopped, desire heating his blood. Lyla stood naked and glorious before him, a teasing smile on her face, her eyes glimmering wickedly in the firelight. Saying nothing, she moved seductively toward him, her fingers working with agonizing slowness to disrobe him. But every time he reached for her, she brushed his hands away with an impish laugh.

"No, no, my darling," Lyla had said. "I'm in control tonight."

And he had happily complied. The passion they shared that evening had been consuming, breathtaking, something forever ingrained in his memory. Glorfindel rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. Now, it was over. He would never feel her honeyed lips on his again, her divine body against his.

Suddenly, the dark melancholy that had plagued him for months disappeared as if banished. Glorfindel's mind cleared, his heart released from the dismal shadow. He was in complete control of his thoughts and voice again. He looked around in shock. The black link that had held him captive was finally severed. He felt free.

Lyla. He had to find her. Beg her forgiveness. Tell her how much he loved her. If necessary, he would spend every moment for the rest of his life, whether in this world or Valinor, trying to win back her heart.

Glorfindel stood and took a step toward the front door. Horrible pain unlike anything he had ever known wracked his body, and he collapsed to his knees. Unable to breathe, he choked and gasped for air. Sharp talons dug into his heart and soul and ripped them apart, leaving him tormented by hollow agony.

The torture eased slightly, and Glorfindel crawled onto the couch. Every part of him hurt, but that wasn't the worst thing. It felt like half of him had been torn away, what remained nothing but a soulless, empty shell.

Glorfindel lay there unmoving for hours, his thoughts and emotions in turmoil. What was happening? Unfathomable grief consumed him. His vision darkening, his strength drained out of him until he could barely breathe. The dull pounding of his heart thudded in his ears, growing weaker as time passed. Fear gnawed at his spine. He felt himself slipping away.

His mind sharpened. Whatever this malady was, he couldn't succumb to it. Lyla, Meredith, they were here, and he refused to leave them. They were everything to him. Help me, Eru, he begged. Give me the strength to fight.

Glorfindel closed his eyes and forced himself to inhale deeply. Reserves of vigor he didn't know he possessed washed over him, and his body began to heal. The pain and grief eased enough for him to move but did not completely vanish. He struggled into a sitting position, gasping from the effort. Light penetrated his vision, the darkness dissipating.

He looked around the room in an attempt to reorient himself. How long had this been happening? It seemed like an eternity, but he suspected only a few hours had passed. He longed to hold his wife. Only Lyla could renew his spirit and make him feel whole again. But she had not returned. Hot tears pricked his eyes. Would she ever come back?

The front door opened, and everyone entered amidst laughter and excited chatter. Their smiles fell away when they saw him sitting among the strewn books and papers. Elhael's face paled, and he pointed at the scattered piles of research in horror. His mouth opened and closed, but only choked sounds came out.

The scribe's blazing eyes locked on Glorfindel. "You! What did you do?"

Glorfindel had no answer. Meredith stared at him with wide, sad eyes, then buried her face in Gilorn's chest. Her soft sobs echoed throughout the room. Gilorn embraced her tightly and whispered comforting words to her, but to no avail. Her crying tore at Glorfindel's heart.

"I know this is your fault. She would never have done this unless you did something unforgiveable," Elhael snarled.

The scribe threw up his hands and sank to his knees, Caleniel following suit. The pair picked up the papers, Elhael muttering in various languages Glorfindel didn't know.

Crossing her arms, Diane glared at him. "Where did my daughter go?"

"I don't know," Glorfindel said softly.

"When did she leave?"

"A few hours ago."

Diane picked up the telephone device and inserted it in her ear. After pushing a button, she waited for a while, then spoke, "Honey, it's Mom. Please call me when you get this."

Elhael clutched a paper in his fist. "I don't even know what this belongs with."

"You'll figure it out, love," Caleniel said in soothing tones.

"No, I won't. It's impossible. It's a mess. A huge, convoluted mess." He scowled at Glorfindel. "I hope you're happy. Everyone better learn to like it here because we're going to be in this world forever."

Diane called Lyla several more times, leaving messages when she received no answer. Worry gnawed at Glorfindel. Why didn't Lyla return the call? No matter how angry she was at him, it was unlike her not to respond to her mother.

Meredith and Gilorn slumped into an oversized chair. Despair lined Meredith's lovely features, hopelessness in her eyes. Gilorn stroked her hair and kissed her temple, his accusatory gaze shooting to Glorfindel. Glorfindel winced. He wanted to hug his daughter and apologize for all of this turmoil, but he feared she wouldn't let him.

The phone rang, and Diane immediately answered it, "Lyla?" Her expression fell. "Yes, this is she." Her hand flew to her mouth. "What? Is she all right?"

Terror shot through Glorfindel at her words. Elhael and Caleniel stopped working, their concerned gazes locking on Diane's panicked face. Their expressions fearful, Meredith and Gilorn leaned forward in their chair.

"Oh, dear God," Diane's voice shook. "What hospital? We'll be there right away."

"What's happened?" Elhael asked when she hung up.

Diane fought tears. "Lyla's been in a horrible car accident. She's hurt very badly."

Meredith stood on shaky legs, her face crumpling. "Is she…?"

"I-I don't know. We have to go to the hospital. Now."

Glorfindel's heart broke at her words. He remembered witnessing a car accident from the balcony a few weeks ago. It had been horrid. And now his wife had fallen prey to one.

The memory of their final conversation seared his brain, and he wanted to weep. This was his fault. He swallowed hard, remembering the frightening malady that gripped him only an hour ago. It was grief. Grief at their souls being severed by death. Valar, had she already left him? No. She had to be alive. He wouldn't have been able to overcome the anguish otherwise.

Glorfindel blinked back tears. He couldn't bear to be separated from her forever. If Lyla died, all that remained of him would perish along with her. And he wouldn't resist the grief when it came to claim him.

*/~

Countless sounds and smells accosted Glorfindel as he and the others hurried into the hospital. Screams and sirens, cries and laughter, cleanliness and filth, blood and pain, all blended together in a disturbing fusion of life and death. Glorfindel barely registered them, for Lyla was the only thing on his mind.

When they entered the intensive care unit, the stench of death overwhelmed him. The place reeked of hopelessness and misery. But somewhere deep beneath it all, his soul sensed Lyla's. She still lived.

Diane approached a woman in blue who sat behind a desk. "We're here to see Lyla Sanderson. I'm her mother."

She nodded. "The doctor's with her. Please go to Waiting Room 5. He'll be in to talk to you soon."

"Is she all right? Is there anything you call tell us?" Elhael asked.

"I'm sorry. You'll have to wait for the doctor."

Diane led them into the indicated room. Glorfindel slumped into a chair, despair overwhelming him. Lyla had to survive. She was his world; he couldn't live without her.

A policeman advanced into the room. "Good evening. Are you Mrs. Sanderson?"

"Yes," Diane said.

"I'm Officer Reynolds. I responded to your daughter's accident. I have her purse and cell phone." He handed them to her.

Shocked and horrified, Glorfindel gaped at the items. Lyla's bag bore several large tears and blood stains, and her phone was crushed. He swallowed hard. Please, Eru, let her be all right.

"What happened?" Diane asked in a trembling voice.

"A dump truck ran a red light and T-boned your daughter's car. The driver was drunk and went on to hit a tree. He died at the scene. Your daughter wasn't at fault in any way. Witnesses to the crash confirmed this. I'm very sorry." The policeman gave her a small card. "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me. Again, I'm truly sorry."

With a nod, the officer left. Diane and the other Elves sat in the remaining chairs. Caleniel and Elhael gripped each other's hands, while Gilorn slid a comforting arm around Meredith, who appeared on the verge of tears. His heart breaking, Glorfindel stared at nothing. The crash sounded so horrible. The other driver had perished, for which Glorfindel was grateful. He couldn't help it. That wretched man may have very well stolen his beloved away because of his intoxication. He didn't deserve to live.

A tall man wearing a white coat and glasses came into the room. Everyone shot to their feet. "I'm Dr. Jenkins. Are you Ms. Sanderson's family?"

"Yes. I'm her mother," Diane said. "How is she?"

He sighed heavily. "I'm going to be honest with you. It's not good. She's had some head trauma and is in a coma. She's also not breathing on her own, so we've got her on a ventilator. While she doesn't have any broken bones except for some cracked ribs, she's suffered massive internal bleeding and desperately needs a transfusion. However, there's something very strange about her blood. We typed her as AB-, but with the odd way the blood cells interacted, I fear her body's reaction to normal AB- blood."

Diane pointed to Meredith. "This is her daughter. Perhaps hers will be a match."

The doctor eyed her dubiously. "Biological?" At Diane's nod, he wrote something down. "All right. I'll send a tech up to test her."

"What are Lyla's chances?" Diane asked.

"At the moment, it's difficult to say. We've already lost her several times, but she's fighting. The blood transfusion can only help. We'll know more tomorrow."

Fear turned Glorfindel's blood to ice. He suspected what the man didn't say: if Lyla survived the night.

"Can we see her?" Elhael asked.

"In a few minutes. The respiratory therapist is finishing up with her. A nurse will come get you when they're done."

Once the doctor departed, Meredith grabbed Diane's hand. "What's a blood transfusion?"

"Your mother's lost a lot of blood. If yours is the same as hers, they'll take some and give it to her."

"I'll do anything to help Mama."

Diane hugged her. "I know, sweetie." Taking a shuddering breath, she released Meredith. "I need to explain some things to all of you. There are going to be a lot of weird things in Lyla's room that you've never seen before. She'll be hooked up to a lot of wires and tubes and machines, and you have to be careful not to disturb them. She's also on a ventilator."

Elhael frowned. "What is that?"

"It's-It's a machine that breathes for her."

Elhael and the others flinched as if struck, but Glorfindel felt as though he had been stabbed. How could Lyla survive if she was unable to breathe?

A nurse escorted them to Lyla's room. When they entered, Glorfindel's heart shattered. His wife lay pale and unmoving on the bed surrounded by machines. A bandage around her head, the skin around her eyes had blackened, a gash marred her swollen left cheekbone, and a deep scrape tore along her jawbone into her neck. Countless bruises and cuts, along with several thin tubes and wires, covered her arms. A thick, forked blue tube connected to a large machine protruded from her mouth.

Tears blurred Glorfindel's vision, a sob choking his throat. "Oh, Meleth nîn," he whispered.

Diane walked over to Lyla and caressed her hair. "Hi, baby." Her voice wavered, and she inhaled deeply, motioning to Meredith. "Come here, sweetheart. It's all right."

Weeping, Meredith inched closer to Lyla and touched her left hand. "Mama? Mama, can you hear me?" Lyla didn't respond. "I love you. Please come back to us."

Gilorn wrapped his arms around Meredith and embraced her tightly. Sadness lining their features, Elhael and Caleniel clung to each other.

Glorfindel approached Lyla's bedside and sank into a chair, gently lifting her limp right hand into his own. Her skin was so cold, and he barely felt the life within her. Grief threatened to consume him.

He pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'm so sorry, beloved."

A small beeping machine emitted a loud, shrill sound, its jagged lines transforming into a long, flat one. Other devices alarmed.

"Oh, dear God. No," Diane said.

A voice sounded, "Code Blue, ICU Room 5."

Terror attacked Glorfindel. Lyla's skin had turned ashen, her lips blue. The fragile life he sensed in her slipped away.

Doctors and nurses rushed into the room. A nurse tried to usher them out. "Please, you have to leave. We'll do everything we can."

"What's happening?" Meredith whimpered.

Diane gripped her granddaughter's forearm. "We have to go. They need space to work."

Desperate to hold onto his wife, Glorfindel had no intention of leaving until Diane's surprisingly strong hand latched onto his wrist and pulled him toward the door. "Come on, honey."

When they reached the private waiting room, Glorfindel's legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees. He covered his face with his hands, unable to resist the tears any longer. Please don't leave me, he begged Lyla's soul. I can't live without you.

An arm slid around him, Meredith's soft sobs next to his ear. Glorfindel held onto his daughter, and they cried together. The grief intensified, slowly crushing him. He knew he would not survive Lyla's death. Living without her was more than he could bear.

Time passed, the tears replaced by emptiness. With Gilorn's assistance, Glorfindel struggled to his feet and into a chair. He could barely move. Meredith sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. She clutched one of his hands in hers.

Dr. Jenkins came into the room. "We were able to revive her."

"Thank God," Diane said.

"I have to tell you, though, if this keeps happening, I don't know how much longer she'll be able to survive. It's going to be touch and go for a while."

A flicker of relief touched Glorfindel's soul but quickly disappeared. He stared bleakly at the floor. His hope vanished, along with his will to live. Without Lyla, he was nothing.

*/~

Elhael paced the floor of Lyla's hospital room, far too worried and strained to sit still. Caleniel had accompanied Diane home for a short while, the older woman needing both food and sleep. Having just given blood, Meredith rested in a chair next to Gilorn beside the bed, her eyes tired and sad. The bag of her blood now drained into Lyla's veins.

He sighed. It was difficult to believe that his best friend, a woman who had only yesterday morning been vibrant and spirited, now lay unconscious and weakly clinging to life. He studied Glorfindel. His gaze haunted, the Elven lord sat listlessly in a chair at Lyla's side with her pale hand in his, utter despair on his face. He hadn't spoken or left that spot since last night unless ordered by hospital staff.

Deep concern for not only Lyla, but also for Glorfindel gnawed at Elhael. Elhael sensed the sorrow slowly overpowering the ellon. With every moment Lyla did not awaken, another part of Glorfindel succumbed to the devastating grief. If this continued, they could lose both Lyla and Glorfindel to death's cold embrace.

Meredith glanced at Elhael. He crooked his finger and jerked his head toward the hallway. As she rose, Gilorn arched a brow, but Elhael motioned for him to stay. Glorfindel never even looked up.

Elhael led her into the private waiting room. "How are you feeling?"

"Weary. Giving blood is a tiring experience. But I'll gladly do it again to help Mama."

"I know." He took her hand. "I'm worried about your father."

Tears welled in her eyes. "So am I. He's lost hope. I'm terrified he'll succumb to grief if Mama—" She choked back a sob. "If she dies."

"That is my fear. As angry as I am with him for provoking Lyla into leaving, I don't want him to die. Perhaps you should speak with him. Of all of us, you're the one he's the most likely to listen to."

Meredith fiddled with a lock of her hair. "I don't know if I can. I want to, but every time I open my mouth I remember all of the things he's done to hurt Mama. I'm afraid I'll say something that will make everything worse."

"I understand. I feel the same way."

Frustration flared in her gaze. "None of this makes sense. Ada has never treated Mama this way. I know he loves her. Yet lately, he acts so differently around her, so coldly, to the point where sometimes I barely recognize him."

Elhael recalled and immediately dismissed the incident with Lyla and the box at the Smithsonian. Research was the last thing on his mind. "I know. I can't understand it. But we have to try to forget about that for now and focus on not losing either of them."

"Do you think she'll get better?"

Doubt crowded his thoughts, but Meredith needed encouragement, not more fear. "Of course. Lyla's too stubborn to give up. Please talk to your father if you can."

"I will. I can't lose him too."

Elhael hugged her. "Don't give up hope, dear."

They walked back to Lyla's room. Glorfindel didn't appear to have moved since they left. Meredith returned to her chair, and Gilorn put his arm around her shoulders. His brows knitted together in confusion, Elhael surveyed Lyla. The bruises and cuts on her face and arms seemed smaller and lighter, less severe than they had been only moments ago. Was his imagination playing tricks on him?

A pretty, redheaded woman in green entered the room. "Hi, I'm Melissa with Respiratory Therapy." She examined the ventilator and made notations on a clipboard. A small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, she pushed a button and wrote again.

"How is she?" Elhael asked. "Is there any change?"

"Actually, yes. She's starting to breathe more on her own. Look here."

Melissa pointed at a small screen on the ventilator, and Elhael watched it for a minute. At times, letters alternated when Lyla took a breath.

"When you see a 'C,' the machine is breathing for her. An 'A' means she's taking a breath on her own with some assistance. Until now, the vent's been doing all the work."

An "A" displayed on the screen, and Elhael smiled, a hint of relief flickering in his heart. Perhaps Lyla would survive this after all.

*/~

Flowers were everywhere, to the point where the room resembled a garden. In the three days Lyla had been in the hospital, many people had visited, all appearing completely heartbroken: Will and Estella, the Martins, Kendra and Nick, people from Lyla's dance studio, and others Glorfindel didn't know. The most surprising visitor had been Lyla's great-grandfather James, who had both shocked and offered comfort to them.

Glorfindel held his wife's limp hand in both of his. Her skin seemed warmer and less pale than it had been. The bruises and cuts on her face and arms had also healed and faded, and the doctor claimed she breathed more without assistance. But she still had not awakened.

Meredith spoke with him yesterday, suspecting the terrible power of the grief that plagued him. She begged him not to succumb to it, to resist its frigid hold, but that was not a promise he could, or would, make. Until Lyla's eyes opened, Glorfindel knew the crushing grief would not ease. He could still lose her. And if he did, he welcomed death to release him from the torment of a world without her.

Dr. Jenkins stepped into the room. "Good afternoon, everyone."

"How is Lyla?" Diane asked.

He gave her a pleased smile. "Well, I can't deny my surprise at how fast she's healing, but I won't question it. Since she's breathing mostly on her own, the respiratory therapist recommended that we take her off the ventilator and see how she does. I agree."

"When will she wake up?" Meredith said.

"That's difficult to say. To be honest, with her injuries the fact that she's doing this well is nothing short of miraculous. We'll do everything we can, but at this point, most of it is up to her."

Glorfindel lightly caressed Lyla's hand. I love you. Please don't leave me. Unable to voice the words, he had repeated them to her over and over in his mind for the last three days.

The doctor departed, and moments later two nurses and the respiratory therapist entered. "You'll have to step outside," a nurse said. "We're going to be a little while."

Glorfindel didn't want to leave Lyla, but did so when the others exited, Diane motioning for him to follow. He cast a fleeting glance at his wife, praying she would be all right.

"Let's go downstairs to the cafeteria and get something to eat," Diane said.

Everyone nodded except Glorfindel. He had no interest in food. If anything, the thought of it made his stomach roil. Besides, what if something happened while they were gone? He didn't want to be that far away from Lyla.

He shook his head. "I'll remain in the waiting room."

"Ada, you need to eat. Please," Meredith said.

The glistening tears in her eyes made him relent. When he nodded, a relieved smile crossed her face, and she grasped his hand.

"Don't worry," Diane said. "They'll call my cell phone if there's any change."

Meredith didn't release his hand as they walked, for which Glorfindel was grateful. His legs felt weak, his head spinning. The further he traveled away from Lyla, the worse the feelings became. He longed to return to her room. As if sensing his thoughts, Meredith tightened her grip on his hand.

By the time they reached the cafeteria, Glorfindel couldn't think, for the pain in his heart overwhelmed him. He sat at the table and looked blankly at his food; he had no desire to eat. His gaze wandered to the others. Everyone ate in silence, exhaustion and sadness lining their features.

Diane's phone rang, and Glorfindel's heart plummeted into his stomach. Had Lyla left him? Was this the call where they broke the news of her passing?

"Hello." His mother-in-law listened for a moment, then her face broke into a huge grin. "Really? We'll be right there."

Everyone stared at her with wild hope. "What's happened?" Meredith asked.

"She woke up," Diane said. "It was only for a minute, but she was coherent."

Amidst smiles and sighs of relief, they hurried back to the intensive care unit. A desperate hope surged through Glorfindel. Lyla had awakened. Did that mean she would be all right?

A nurse intercepted them outside Lyla's room. "How is she?" Diane asked.

"She's fallen back asleep. We removed the vent, and so far, she's doing well. If she wakes back up tonight, she probably won't be able to talk because her throat will be very sore from being intubated. You can visit her for a little while but not too long. She needs her rest."

Glorfindel was the first person in the room. The blue tube that had been in Lyla's mouth for days was gone, and she breathed on her own. He sat beside the bed and held her hand, watching her face and willing her to awaken.

Meredith took a seat on the other side of the bed and gently touched Lyla's hand. "Mama?"

Lyla's eyelids fluttered open. When Glorfindel glimpsed her lovely, deep blue eyes, the heavy weight of his grief lifted. He wanted to hold her in his arms and sob. Lyla's hand weakly brushed against Meredith's chin.

Tears slipped down Meredith's cheeks. "Oh, Mama. I love you."

A faint smile curved Lyla's lips. Glorfindel rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. Lyla slowly turned her head, confusion in her eyes. Without pulling her hand away, she stared at him for a long moment, then returned her attention to Meredith. Glorfindel didn't care if she was angry with him or even despised him, so happy was he that she was alive and awake.

"Hi, baby," Diane said.

The nurse poked her head inside. "That's enough for now. She needs to rest."

"We'll be back later." Meredith placed a delicate kiss on Lyla's cheek.

Glorfindel paused at the door, unable to wait any longer. He had to apologize to Lyla and tell her he loved her. "I need a moment with her. Please."

Diane gave him a questioning look but nodded. Once they were alone, Glorfindel turned back to his wife. Her eyelids grew heavy and began to close, but when he took her hand, they snapped open.

"I'm sorry to keep you awake, but I have a few things I must tell you, my darling." Her face remained expressionless, and he plunged ahead, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "I want to beg your forgiveness. I'm so sorry for everything, beloved. I don't know why I said those horrible things, but I didn't mean them. All of the cruel things I've said and done over the past months, I've meant none of them."

Pain flickered in her eyes, whether from her injuries or his words, he didn't know. "I know you're angry with me, you probably even hate me, but I want you to know that I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I love you more than anything, Lyla."

The nurse reappeared. "Sir, you have to go."

He kissed Lyla's palm. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

Glorfindel headed for the hallway, stopping to glance at his already sleeping wife. His heart swelled with joy. He didn't know if Lyla would ever forgive him, but for now, the fact that she was alive and at least listened to his apology was enough.