Okay...wow...I really can't believe I'm actually writing another one of these author's notes. I actually had almost given up on this story but the amazing reviews you guys kept sending me, urging me to keep writing and actually assuring me you like this story made me want to get over my lazy writing block and write another chapter. Boy...believe me: I had never planned on stopping this story. If I had, I never would have ended it where I did. But, here is another chapter, a little late but here regardless; I can't promise how often this story will be updated, but hopefully it won't take months again. Well, I guess this is the end to this author's note; thanks again for all the fabulous reviews! Keep them up, that's why I finally wrote another chapter. And to my best friend Lucie: Capt. Lovejoy.

"Until one day the rain fell, as thick as black oil and in her heart she knew something was wrong. She went running through the orchard, screaming 'no God, don't take him from me'. And by the time she got there, she feared he already had gone." -Painters, Jewel

Chapter Twelve

Counting to Five

Sam heard Laura shouting his name, her voice sounding so high and panicked and far away, and he felt his body grow cold at the thought of any harm befalling her. If that bastard had shot his Laura, then he wouldn't live to see another...

But all those thoughts left his mind as Sam felt his head begin to spin and his legs begin to grow weak. It was when his torso began to grow hot with a pain unlike any that he had ever felt before and he realized just what had happened. It hadn't been Laura that had been shot, it had been him.

Laura felt her own knees buckle and she dropped to the snowy ground, ignoring everything around her aside from Sam, who had collapsed seconds before, unable to take her eyes off the growing crimson stain on his side. It seemed impossible, so impossible, that something like this could have happened; after everything, everything they had already been through, it could not end like this.

It was difficult to force her mind to focus on something other then the strangling sense of grief that had entered her body but Laura managed to turn her thoughts to the first aid class her mother had insisted she take during her freshman year. The most important thing, or at least the only thing she could remember, was that pressure had to be placed on the wound to stop the bleeding, to keep the victim from bleeding to death.

Her teeth chattering and her entire body shaking, no longer from the cold but from the surge of emotions coursing through her body, Laura pressed her palms over the bullet wound (bullet wound! she would have never thought someone she loved would be suffering from something like that) and repeated the importance of pressure over and over again in a study murmur like it was her mantra. And, at the moment, it was.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the searing pain which had seemed to take over his entire body and he curled his hands into tight fists. He was hardly aware of Laura's hands against his chest; he wasn't aware of anything other then the pain. A single tear squeezed out from beneath his eyelid and rolled, hot, down his cold cheek.

"Pressure on the wound." Laura reminded herself once again, unaware of her own tears, spilling down her cheeks. "Put pressure on the wound." She pressed her hands down against the hot, sticky wound on Sam's chest. He groaned and she lifted her hands slightly, unwilling to believe that she had been the one to cause him pain.

With a labored breath, Sam formed himself to open his eyes and look upon the face of the angel who had so captivated his heart and attention for nearly a year, who now seemed even more like an angel then ever before. For the first time, he realized just how close he was to death, closer then he had come, even in the past few days and he wondered if her face would be the last thing he would see. It seemed so absurd, to impossible to Sam that he might die of something as bizarre as a gunshot after he had survived so many other things all ready. Was he really going to die now? Was he really never going to get the chance to leave behind this frozen wasteland and see his parents again, to live the life that had been promised to him, to be able to spend the rest of his years with Laura? Sam didn't want to think of such things, to allow his mind to turn to such morbid thoughts but it was impossible to think of anything else. It was difficult not to think of Death when you were at its doorstep.

"Laura." The girl looked up with a panicked fire dancing in her eyes when she heard Sam manage to whisper out her name. He made a feeble gesture to reach for her but she dismissed it quickly.

"Don't move." Laura managed to command with an authority she didn't know she had. It amazed her that her voice wasn't shivering with the fear that was coursing through her body, that she was able to take control of anything at all. "It'll only make it worse." She had no idea what to do. For the first time in her life Laura Chapman was utterly out of ideas and that frightened her; she had never been completely clueless for in the back of her mind there had always been some useless tidbit of information waiting to make itself known to help her out before things got too bad. But things had spiraled out of control before she could even blink and her mind was empty, nothing was hovering in her thoughts to save her now.

As Sam looked at Laura's still beautiful face, he was struck by how lost and lonely she appeared all of the sudden; it was as though she was the only girl in the world, faced with an impossible task, something that was slowly killing her inside whether she realized it or not. Her face was as white as the snow around them, her chattering lips turning blue with the frigid temperatures but she didn't even seem to notice as her brown eyes searched for something that she would certainly never find. Her entire body was shaking and Laura had somehow lost the façade of control that she had never possessed in the first place.

Laura looked up from her crimson hands, which were damp and sticky with the blood of the man she loved, when Sam said her name again. Her tears had no sense stopped falling, having crystallized on her cheeks, and she found herself so devoid of emotion that she felt completely empty for the first time in her life. Never before had seen been so crushed, so shattered and broken that she no longer felt alive. If it was one thing she had learned, however, it was that emotion often had no place in the practical, it was something that her mother had drilled into her head over and over again. And somehow, Laura had managed to separate the part of her that loved Sam more then anything in her life from the part of her that knew if she didn't do something, something practical then he would be lost forever. And that was the part that was ruling her thoughts at the moment.

"You should...you should go inside." Sam said weakly, his voice shaking from a mixture of fear and the chill that was seeping into his body. Was it even possible that the temperature had dropped even more since they had left the Russian barge? "Go inside." His body felt weary, exhausted, as though the act of speaking was too much to bear and he let his heavy head rest against the icy pillow beneath him.

"No." Laura shook her head, removing her sticky hands to examine the wound beneath them, as though if she had just kept it hidden it would have gone away. The injury that she saw was no doubt life threatening, a tiny, almost perfectly circular hole that continued to bleed profusely. Her hands had been insufficient in providing the amount of pressure that was needed to keep the wound sealed, to tourniquet the injury, and Laura knew that she was going to need something, anything, else if she wanted to keep Sam from bleeding to death in front of her.

Scooping up a handful of still white snow, Laura pressed it against the wound in Sam's side. This action warranted a cry of pain from the boy on the receiving end of this treatment, and he drew in a breath so sharp it sounded like a hiss. Horrified, Laura released her grip on the icy lump and looked at Sam with a defeated look upon her face. "I don't know what to do." She whispered for the first time in her life. It was the first time she had ever admitted that she was lost, that she was confused and didn't know what action to take next. "Sam, I don't know what to do." She pressed her face against his chest, her shoulders quivering with sobs that didn't come, pressing her bloody hands against her face as though she was attempting to shut everything out and wake from the horrible nightmare that had claimed her.

More then anything, Sam wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, assure her that everything was going to be all right and she didn't have anything to worry about. But the knowledge of the energy that task would take was too overwhelming and he could do nothing but continue to lie where he was, wishing he could console the girl who so needed his comfort.

"Go...get help." Sam managed to say, causing Laura to lift her head. "Get Brian."

Laura looked at him with her doe-eyes wider then he had ever seen them. "I can't." She mumbled feebly. "I can't leave you."

Sam wished he could say something comforting but he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open, let alone utter meaningless phrases when he had to make sure that Laura did what had to be done. She was a practical girl, he knew, someone who always thought everything through and never acted irrationally. But now she was afraid, terrified even, and that would keep her from doing what her mind knew had to be taken care of. "You have to." Sam reminded her as forcefully as he could. "You've got to get Brian." Otherwise, I might die...he thought but didn't have the heart to say out loud. It was almost as though speaking those words would be like making everything more substantial and concrete; he might be signing his own death certificate.

Laura knew that Sam was right, that she couldn't handle the events unfolding rapidly around her on her own and she certainly couldn't take care of Sam out here in the cold more biting then what had filled the apartment. She needed help but she was still unwilling to get it.

"I...I can't." Laura mumbled weakly once again, hating herself for the doubt that fear that was coursing through her body. The person she knew she could spend the rest of her life with was dying in front of her and she couldn't even get to her feet. What's the matter with you? Her minded seemed to scream. Help him! But she couldn't, for some reason, she just couldn't.

"Laura." Sam said with an strength that seemed to shock the both of them. "Go."

Nodding numbly, Laura got to her feet and was surprised when her knees didn't buckle beneath her and send her crashing back to the ground. She stumbled backward, unwilling to turn her back on Sam but she knew that she would have to eventually put him behind her and she turned then, rushing back toward the apartment building they had left behind. It was almost as though she was attempting to leave behind all her fears, all the horrors her mind had been forced to endure in the past few minutes -had it really been a few minutes? Just minutes? It felt like an eternity, trying to outrun the nightmare that had become her life. If she only ran fast enough...far enough...

Laura cried out when she lost her footing upon the icy ground and went crashing to her knees once again. She remained where she was, resisting the urge to curl into the fetal position and abandon all her thoughts and worries, her fears and the surge of emotions rushing through her body but she did bury her face in her hands again, ignoring the crimson liquid that had already dried in the cold, staining her fingers and palms. "I can't." She mumbled to no one. "I just can't."

Her mind ran away from her then, taking her thoughts and forcing her to experience them almost like someone watching a movie. Laura thought of Sam and everything about him, random snippets of memory that ended with the sight of him laying on the slowly reddening snow, waiting for her to return and save him. She could not leave him, could not forsake him just because she was too frightened to control her own thoughts. He was frightened to but he somehow managed to be strong. But, despite the numerous acts she had put on throughout her life, Laura Chapman was not strong, she never had been. And now, she was just frightened.

Somewhere, she could no longer remember where, Laura had once heard someone say that, no matter how frightening and impossible things seemed to get, they would only allow themselves to the count of five to give into that fear, to let it totally control their body. And once five had been reached, then the fear would be banished and sanity and rational thinking would return. Laura lifted her head slowly, her lips moving soundless as she slowly counted, not completely aware of what she was doing.

"Five." She said and got to her feet.

Brian turned in surprise when the door open, looking away from the low flames that had held his attention for an unknown amount of time to greet whoever was returning to the apartment. Before a single word could leave his lips, Laura flew in front of the kitchen and nearly collapsed in front of him. He stared at her in wordless surprise, taking in her disheveled appearance; there were icy tears and blood on her cheeks and more blood on her hands and clothes. Her curls fell in front of her face in mad ringlets, making her look for all the World like an Amazonian warrior returning from battle. However, Brian had the feeling that whatever battle Laura had come from had not been a victorious one.

"What happened?" Brian asked when it became clear that Laura would not be able to manage a sentence at the moment. "Where's Sam?"

Laura opened her mouth but nothing resembling an answer to his question escaped from her lips. At a loss, she jabbed her finger in the direction she had come, as though attempting to convey just where Sam was indeed. "Outside." She finally managed to croak, surprising even herself, it seemed.

Brian gave her a confused look. "Outside." He repeated dumbly. "What happened?" he asked once again, taking one of her hands by the wrist and examining the blood on her hands. It clearly wasn't hers. "What happened to him?"

"A man..." Laura drew in a deep breath in an attempt to gain control over herself. "He came...surprised us...radio went off...he had a gun...he..." Her eyes grew wide again and it appeared that she would no longer be able to finish her story. However, she didn't need to for Brian had managed to gather how her tale would end.

"Sam got shot?" Brian questioned in an attempt to prod Laura into giving up any more of the story then she already had. Exhausted, Laura nodded once. "Is it bad?"

Laura looked at him, her lips now a thin pale line and she nodded again. "I think so." She whispered. "I think it is...Brian," she looked at him hopefully, "you've got to help him."

Brian looked at her uselessly. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know." Laura admitted, shaking her head. "But I don't know what to do either and I need your help."

At that moment, Laura looked nothing like the girl he had known for most of his life, the girl who never needed help from anyone, never bothered to let anyone into her life and always knew what to do. She was the person that people came to in order to have their problems solved and now she was just as lost and confused as one of the many people who had come seeking her aid.

Brian got to his feet then and Laura followed suit; he cast a glance over his shoulder at the fire and hoped that there would still be something left to salvage when they returned. But he couldn't worry about that now, his best friend needed him. "Let's go, then."

Sam had given into the thought that Laura would never return, at least not in time to do any good but he did not believe that she had simply abandoned him. On the contrary, he believed something had happened to her and that thought, surprisingly, managed to consume all other thoughts. His mind was awash with worries of Laura and constant flashes of pain. He did not want to die alone but, at the moment, he didn't see any other way about it.

So when Laura was suddenly at his side, her cold hands resting against his feverish cheeks, Sam opened his eyes in surprise. For a moment, he wondered if he was dreaming and decided that, if he was, he never wanted to wake up; he never wanted to be forced back into the reality where he was dying slowly and Laura wasn't at his side.

"Sam." Laura said gently, speaking his name as though it was a complete sentence. Her hands never left his face, holding his hot cheeks in a gentle caress and she could think of nothing more to say. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and wish away this life, to wake up from this nightmare, to chase away these horrible visions and situations. But even if she closed her eyes and wished to be somewhere else, she would still be freezing in the snow, kneeling beside her slowly dying before, facing one impossible situation after another. Laura felt like her shoulders were being crushed by an impossible force, one that she would never be able to shake. Was it even possible that her life had suddenly turned out this way? She knew she shouldn't be surprised; nothing good came without a price.

Brian knelt down beside Sam, though he wasn't surprised when his friend didn't seem to notice him. He looked down at the circular wound on Sam's chest, which was still steadily leaking blood and winced; it was worse then he ever could have imagined but, then again, he had no idea what to expect, seeing as he had never seen a gunshot wound before. Especially not on his best friend.

Slowly, Sam turned his gaze in Brian's direction. "Hey buddy." He mumbled wearily. "Nice to see you."

Brian couldn't help but roll his eyes. Even while he was slowly bleeding to death in the frozen wasteland of New York City, he was still the same old Sam.