The day wore on, the shadows transformed, growing longer and deeper, and still there was no word from Dougie's doctors. An unnatural silence had settled among the weary group gathered in the waiting room, a tension that seemed to hover in the air like a warm, smothering blanket covering all of them. When a voice finally cut through that strange atmosphere, everyone jumped and turned to stare at the newcomer.

"Jack...oh, God..."

Andie McPhee stood in the doorway, her sandy blonde hair tousled and her navy blue suit wrinkled from the drive up from Boston.

Jack disengaged his arm from around Amy's shoulders and went to his sister, hugging her tightly.

"Have you heard anything?" she asked when they broke apart.

"Not a damn word," Jack said gruffly. "It's been hours."

Amy moved in to hug her aunt. "Hi there," Andie said softly. "How are you holding up, Little Jen?"

Amy smiled slightly at the use of that old nickname, which Andie and the others had often called her when she was younger, because of the striking resemblance she bore to her mother. It was comforting somehow to hear it now; just the sound of it called to Amy's mind the warmth, safety, and security of her childhood, when nothing bad could touch her or anyone she loved. She would give anything to feel that way again, just for a few minutes.

"Not great," she admitted to Andie. "I just wish they'd tell us what's going on."

As if on cue, a short, balding, bleary-eyed doctor appeared in the doorway behind them. He cleared his throat, and immediately every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on him. Time seemed to freeze. Jack's hands fell on Amy's shoulders and squeezed a little too tightly. Across the room, Pacey stood up and groped blindly for Joey's hand.

"Douglas Witter's family?" the doctor asked, scanning the room questioningly.

No one seemed able to answer. After a long, loaded silence, Jack managed in a shaky, uncertain voice much unlike his usual one, "Y-yes."

"He's stable," the doctor said. "He's not out of the woods yet; he's lost a lot of blood, but his defenses finally seem to be kicking in, and the bleeding has slowed down enough to satisfy us that he's out of immediate danger."

No one seemed to breathe right away. Then Amy turned and buried her face in Jack's chest as she began to sob for the millionth time that day, only this time from a relief so strong it took her breath away. She could hear her dad's heartbeat through his shirt, fast and strong and alive. He clung to Amy tightly as she cried, and his own tears dripped silently down his cheeks and splashed onto his daughter's hair. "Thank you, Doctor," he said at last, when his presence of mind returned enough for him to speak.

The doctor smiled understandingly at Jack and nodded. "It was touch and go for a while," he said. "That's a strong man in there."

"The strongest," Jack agreed hoarsely.

"Can we see him?" Pacey asked, resting his chin on top of Joey's head as they held each other and she cried her own tears of relief into his shoulder. Pacey's green eyes had regained some of their sparkle the instant the words "He's stable" had registered in his aching brain.

The doctor shook his head. "He's still unconscious," he said, and looked around at the emotionally strained group of people. "And when he can take visitors, I'd want to limit it to one or two at a time..."

Amy looked up at Jack. "I need to see him, Dad," she whispered.

Jack searched her face for a moment and then nodded. "Can my daughter and I go in for just a second?" he asked the doctor. "Please. It...it's been a very long day."

The doctor hesitated, glancing from Jack to Amy and seeming to size them up. Then he nodded curtly. "Follow me."

He led the way through the swinging doors, down a cold white hallway, and into the room where Doug lay, hooked up to tubes that led to machines that beeped and blinked and flashed monotonously in the rapidly dimming early- evening light from the window.

Amy, feeling suddenly very young and frightened, reached behind her for Jack's hand and was comforted when she found it and he squeezed her fingers. Together, they approached the bed, where a nurse was busy adjusting a hanging bag filled with dark liquid ("Oh my God, that's blood..." Amy thought incoherently with a sharp, nauseating flop of her stomach) that led to a tube in Doug's arm.

"Take just a minute," the doctor reminded them before he and the nurse stepped back out into the hallway.

Jack and Amy were silent for a moment, staring down at him. He was so pale. His lips were grayish-blue, a deathly, unnatural shade that sent a sharp shiver down Amy's spine. It hurt her heart to look at him.

Jack leaned down and kissed him on those cold, seemingly lifeless lips. "Hey, hon," he said. "We're here. Amy and I are here with you."

Doug's eyelids fluttered as if he were dreaming. Amy took one of his hands and was startled by how cold it felt, the skin of his palm smooth and slick like plastic. "Hi Dougie," she said timidly, her voice shaking. "You really scared us. We thought we were going to lose you."

"But you're a fighter, aren't you?" Jack added. "I knew you wouldn't let something as insignificant as a little gunshot wound take you away from us."

"Then who would stay on my case and keep me in line?" Amy said with a small smile. "I still have a few good teenage years left in me; I don't think Dad can handle it all by himself."

Jack laughed, tears shining in his eyes. "She's right. I can't. You know we need you, Dougie. We all do."

"Thanks for hanging on for us," Amy said. "Now you've got to make it the rest of the way. It should be easy for you; the hard part is over."

Doug, who was floating in a sea of darkness, heard their voices as if from a great distance. Fighting the blackness with every ounce of his strength, he realized that he could actually see Jack...Oh, his wonderful Jack, the man who loved him as no one else ever had...Jack was standing on the shoreline on the other side of this dark river, calling to Doug, urging him on, pleading with him to keep swimming, to meet him halfway...

...and, next to Jack, there was Amy, sweet Amy. Flesh and blood didn't matter; she was his daughter, his baby girl. Seeing her there, standing hand-in-hand with Jack, Doug doubled his efforts, fighting the dark currents with everything he had as he swam toward his family.

Amy gasped when Doug's eyelids slowly opened. "Dad? Look."

Jack moved forward, taking Doug's hand, and whispered, "Dougie? It's okay, you're all right, we're here." Then, raising his voice slightly, "Aim, go get someone."

Amy hurried out into the hallway and almost ran headlong into the doctor who had taken them into Doug's room. He looked startled. "I was just coming to get you," he began. "I think it's time to..."

"He's waking up," Amy said breathlessly.

The doctor raised his eyebrows, then stepped past her and went to Doug's bedside. "Mr. Witter?" he asked in a loud, clear voice. "Mr. Witter, can you hear me?"

Doug took a deep, rattling breath and winced, gritting his teeth against a wave of pain.

"Doug? Are you with us?" Jack asked.

He made a strange, choked noise in the back of his throat as he tried to speak, then he managed a dry, barely audible whisper. "What happened?"

"You're okay, hon, there was an accident," Jack said, relief written all over his face at the sound of Doug's voice, however weak. They all watched Doug closely, waiting to see what, if anything, he remembered, and what his reaction would be. The stillness stretched out.

Finally, another rattling breath, another agonized wince, and then Doug said in a halting but clear whisper, "Th...that...ah-ass-hole got away, didn't h-he?"

There was a long pause, and then Jack released the breath he had been holding and began to laugh, a trembling sound, half-hysterical, but welcome in the alien, sanitary atmosphere of the hospital room. Amy, wide-eyed, looked back and forth between her dads, and then she began to laugh, too.

It wasn't funny, of course, the asshole HAD gotten away, but the police were looking for him, and he wasn't going to get very far. At the moment, though, just seeing Doug Witter with his beautiful blue eyes open, breathing and talking and, though in obvious pain, ALIVE, was quite enough to lift the curtain of despair which had been suffocating them all day long. And it felt good to laugh, to release the current of emotion that had tormented them since they had each heard the gut-wrenching news.

When the laughter died out, Amy stepped toward the bed impulsively. "Dougie, I'm so sorry," she said, and the words tumbled out one after another, leaving her breathless and near tears yet again. "I'm sorry about our fight last night. I'm sorry I've been so hard to live with lately. I'm sorry I make things so hard on you when you're just trying to do right by me. I'm sorry I haven't told you I love you lately. Because I really do, and it would have killed me if you had left us before I had a chance to tell you that." She stopped, embarrassed, glancing up at the doctor, who seemed absorbed in examining the chart at the end of Dougie's bed.

Doug reached up with what seemed like a tremendous effort and stroked her hair away from her face. "I love you too, princess," he said in that gruff, cracked voice.

"All right, then," the doctor said suddenly, awkwardly, clapping his hands together. "I'm going to have to ask everyone but the patient to go back out to the waiting room now. We're going to check you over, Mr. Witter, and make sure things are still looking good. We'll call your family in when we're through."

Jack leaned over and kissed Doug again on lips that were regaining a little of their natural color, and Amy kissed his cheek before following her dad into the hall. She glanced back over her shoulder once more as the doctor ushered them out. Doug caught her glance and winked at her solemnly. As the door closed behind them, she was suddenly rocked by a wave of love, so strong it was staggering, for Doug and Jack and every person out there in that waiting room. Trotting to catch up to Jack, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

He laughed easily, hugging her back. "Wow, what was that for?" he asked.

"I'm just happy," she said. "I'm happy my mom picked you. And I'm happy you picked Doug. We're really lucky, aren't we?"

Smiling broadly, his eyes twinkling, Jack nodded. "You can say that again," he said. "Now let's go tell the others our favorite sheriff is back."

They went back into the waiting room to share the news with the rest of their family. And when Amy thought back on this day of fear and pain and sorrow and regret and relief like she had never known, she remembered that it happened on a perfect day.

THE END

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Okay, did ya like it? Hate it? Let me know! Thanks for reading and reviewing, and for being patient while I debated whether Doug would live or die. But honestly, there was no question...I could never kill off that man! Hope you enjoyed this, and allow me to plug "To Be Myself," which will (time permitting) be updated shortly. Love you guys!