"Mr Tracy, you need to take a break."

"No, I don't. I'm fine." John settled himself more firmly in the chair as if he half expected the sturdy looking nurse to yank him bodily out of it and toss him into the hallway.

"Yes, you do."

"I'm not leaving her."

"There's nothing for you to do here."

"I'm keeping her company, she doesn't like to be alone."

"Mr Tracy, with the greatest respect, she won't know if you're here or not."

"I'll know."

The nurse heaved a deep, put upon sigh. But, short of physically dragging him out of the room, there was little she could do. She couldn't force him to leave. This wasn't the first time she had seen family members set up camp in a room and refuse to move until their loved one had been moved to one of the regular wards and she knew it wouldn't be the last, but she had yet to meet one as politely stubborn as this. He seemed to have the patience of a saint, he wasn't badgering them for news, he wasn't demanding that they pay attention to his wife and do more than they already were. He simply sat there, letting them do their jobs without interference, although they all knew he was watching them like a hawk, his eyes tracking -and many believed judging- their every movement. Janette didn't believe that he was watching because he was expecting them to do anything wrong, he just needed to see for himself.

"We've not reduced her sedation enough, she won't be waking up for at least another night, Doctor hasn't signed off on her latest scans yet."

"I know." There was no harshness in his tone, no accusation of any kind, just a resigned acceptance tinged with sadness. She could understand that well enough, but she had to try.

"But," she continued, refusing to let it go without saying her piece, "when she does wake up the last thing she'll need or want is for you to be making yourself ill over her."

"I won't make myself sick," John told her with more than the usual surety that she heard from people waiting as long as he had, it was like he actually believed it. "I'm used to getting very little sleep."

"Right," she started, hands going to her hip as she speared him with a warning look once she had his attention. He didn't seem phased at all. Well then, time to bring out the big guns. "You might think you're used to it, young man, what with that fancy job of yours, but this time is different because it's your wife involved. So, do as you're told, go and get yourself some proper food at least. Take a break, stretch your legs."

He looked like he wanted to protest again, not reacting well to her firmness. She'd heard all about these Tracy brothers, the ones that flew all over the world in their fancy machines, saving people from certain death and taking nothing in reward. She knew what they were like, how they seemed to care nothing for the media attention and praise they got, even if that had been on the wane a little recently, all they cared about was doing their job. She could understand, nursing was a bit of a thankless job in itself, but she also knew how hard it was to be on the other side of such a job. You were used to being the one doing the looking after and dealing with other people's families, it was totally different when it was your own.

"I'll look after her," she promised, her tone softening, the harshness of the edges dulled somewhat. And she would, she'd do her best to make sure that he felt comfortable leaving his wife in her care. That was the only way he would ever be moved, she could tell that a mile away.

John sighed, knowing when he was beaten. Stretching his legs a little would be quite welcome both physically and mentally. He knew he needed a break, he just didn't want to admit it. It felt like betraying her somehow, to be caring more about himself than her when she was the one that was lying injured in a hospital bed. Not that Selene would see it that way, he knew she wouldn't and he was dreading her waking up and finding out that he'd been sitting here so long. She'd never let him get away with it if she had been awake.

"Fine, but just to the cafeteria to get some food, then I'll be right back."

"That'll do, pet, that'll do." The bossy nurse turned away, heading to the door, but she tossed a look over her shoulder that told him she wouldn't be so nice next time if he didn't do as she had said.

"I guess that's me told," he muttered. He reached out, smoothing back a lock of hair from Selene's face that had fallen across one eyebrow as the nurse had bustled around her. "I should probably do as I'm told and get some food, you're always nagging at me about eating."

He didn't know why he was even talking to her, he knew, logically, that she probably couldn't hear him, nor would she respond to him even if she could, but he did it anyway. He couldn't recall a time in the past four years that he hadn't spoken to her at least once in a day, even in passing when he was too busy to deal with a full call, he'd still get a little voice message from her, something to perk him up and remind him that he was doing his best. God, he needed that now, more than ever. He needed to hear her telling him that he was doing good, that he wasn't alone and that she was there. And that was what he was trying to do, to believe that somehow, someway, she knew that he was there, that she wasn't alone. But the nurse was right, he needed to look after himself too, at least a little, if he wanted to be able to take care of her.

"I'll be back real soon," he promised her, dropping a kiss on her forehead then getting creakily to his feet, his back cracking painfully as he stretched. Damn, he was feeling every single one of the twenty-three hours he had spent sitting in that damn chair. His family and hers had come and gone, taking it in turns, almost like they had worked out shifts, spending a few hours in the other visitor chair, before giving it up for the next person.

Alan had already been released to the care of Virgil, Gordon, and Grandma, but had insisted on staying in the nearby hotel with them rather than go back to base. Kayo had called in but he'd told her to stay where she was, eyeballs deep in the Tracy Industries investigation. There was nothing she could do, nothing that would change by her turning up.

It actually felt good to be walking, moving more than just to go to the bathroom. The cafeteria was a fair distance away in the main complex of the hospital, taking him more than ten minutes to locate and walk to it. He hadn't even felt hungry while he had been holding vigil in her room, he'd eaten the sandwich that his Grandma had brought him, had eaten the cookies the nurses had given him along with the seemingly endless cups of tea that they promised would work miracles, and munched absently on an apple that Gordon had brought along from their hotel breakfast buffet, but that had been it in nearly forty-eight hours. Now the scents coming from the cafeteria hit his nostrils causing his empty stomach to cramp painfully, demanding that he fill it right that second.

I obviously needed a break more than I realised, he thought to himself as he grabbed a tray and joined the line that was snaking around the self-service counters. Even though the line was long it moved surprisingly quickly, the items you picked up registering on your tray when you placed them on it, the total adding up so that all you had to do was press your thumb to the payment screen when you reached the end and you were done.

Normally the thought of cafeteria food would be enough to put him off eating, all those people that had likely coughed or sneezed on it, poor quality ingredients, and a less than appetising look to them, all combined to make him want to run back out the door. But today he didn't care. All that he could focus on was getting in, getting some food, and getting back out again. The sooner he did that the sooner he could return to Selene.

He barely paid attention to the food he grabbed, just reached out blindly, finding that he had selected a rather strange mixture that consisted of some kind of curry and rice dish, a heaped bowl of french fries, a buttered bread roll, a small pot of strawberry ice cream that was rapidly melting and a flat, square oat cake type thing. These he had apparently paired with a bottle of water and one of orange juice. Honestly, he didn't care what he ate as long as it was food.

He found himself a small table at the back of the restaurant that was thankfully unoccupied, ignoring the eyes that followed him and his instantly recognisable uniform, and dropped down into the seat. A quick check of his comm told him that it had just passed one in the morning and here he was about to eat a mess of unidentified curry and a mystery oat slab. If he didn't laugh he'd cry, and that was something he refused to do.

The beef curry, while milder than they would usually eat, was surprisingly tasty. He shovelled in the rice and the majority of the meat in between mouthfuls of fries, the rest of the sauce he mopped up with the bread roll. It was a little stale but he didn't care, it washed down just fine with sips from his water bottle. The ice cream was a lost cause, and he couldn't face the oat thing, so he wrapped it in a paper napkin and took it, along with his orange juice, for later.

The part of the hospital that he was in was quiet and still at this time of night. It was far enough away from the emergency room to have maintained some kind of day versus night routine, although little groups of nurses and the odd doctor still moved from one room to the next, one ward to another, caring for their patients.

A rush of cold from an opening door gave him a glimpse of the outside world and, without warning, he was overwhelmed by the need to be out there. He hadn't even registered what he was planning to do until he was outside, his lungs filling with the cold night air. He tipped his head back, staring up into the stunningly clear sky, pinpricks of light shining here and there. He let out a shuddering breath that he hadn't realised he was holding, his eyes mapping the clusters of stars from one to the other. There was Orion, with Betelgeuse shining orangey-red on his right shoulder and Rigel flickering a bluey-white near his left foot. There was the famous Orion's belt, made up of Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. He recalled how often he had pointed them out to Selene, who always seemed to forget where they were in the sky but never forgot the stories behind them.

Seeing them calmed him. There was something about the stars, a surety that always made him feel better. For countless years people had looked up at them, had mapped them, had travelled by them, finding their way home whenever they were lost. They had always been there and would continue to be there long after he was gone, his lifetime a mere blink of an eye compared to theirs. The thought struck him hard. He didn't often allow himself to think about just how short and easily snuffed out a human life was, in their line of work it was a dangerous mental road to head down, but now, standing in the grounds of a hospital, having just seen his wife fighting for her life, he felt something else. Not wonder, not awe at how much humans managed to make of the short time they had on this earth, but anger.

Anger the likes of which he had never felt before bubbled up inside him, tasting like bile at the back of his throat. They said this was a senseless accident, nothing more, but something, somewhere at the back of his mind, some sense, some instinct, was telling him that maybe, just maybe, it was something more. What, and he could hardly bear to think about it, if the cab had been manufactured with parts from Tracy Industries? What if they were in any way, even indirectly, responsible?

Before he could talk himself out of it, before he gave himself even a moment to stop and think logically about it he had turned his comm on. This wasn't the time or the place, but he didn't care. He had left his wife lying in a hospital bed, tubes poking out of her, pieces of her damaged and stitched back together and he wanted, no, he needed, to know who or what was truly responsible.

"EOS?"

"Yes, John?" She was there instantly, just as she always was, the need for sleep and rest something that never plagued her like it did others. She was covering monitoring duty to the best of her ability, limited as she was to being nothing but a glorified answering machine, analysing the calls and passing them off to the relevant authority as best she could.

"I need you to do something for me."

"Of course. What do you require?"

"I want you to find out everything about the day of Selene and Alan's accident, their every movement, everywhere they went, everyone they came into contact with, everything. I want to know everything about the accident, why they stopped, how the taxi lost control, everything there is to know. Any tiny detail, anything that seems like it is of no significance, I want to know it. Can you do that?"

EOS was silent for a moment or two, the projected image of her symbol spinning gently in the air in front of him, projected from the comm unit mounted in his baldric.

"EOS?"

"Yes."

"Can you do it?"

"Yes, I can do it."

"Then please do."

"I shall begin immediately."

"Thank you." A strange sense of relief flooded him. If EOS was on it he knew that she would find and catalogue every single minute detail so much better than any accident report ever would. He needed those details, he needed the cold, hard facts, not a written report that had been put together by a human. Humans had opinions, humans had emotions that clouded and influenced their judgement in every situation. If an officer that had been on the job for twenty years looked at the case they would instantly start to see similarities, they would compare it to other accidents and they would make a report based on all of that experience and hunches as well as the information available at the scene. John didn't want that, he didn't want this accident compared to any other, he wanted it treated as a separate and brand new case. And the only way for that to happen was for them to do it themselves.

"John?"

"Yes, EOS?" He realised that he had zoned out a little, thinking about how he would organise the information that EOS gathered and how he would analyse it.

"How is Selene? Will she recover?" her tone was hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she should be asking or not.

John's eyes slid shut as he sucked in a painful breath. What could he say? He allowed a picture of his wife, his beautiful, brave, endlessly positive wife, to form in his head. That was all he needed.

"Yes, she'll recover." She would because he'd make sure of it. Anything she needed, anything she wanted, he'd do for her.

"That is good. I believe that I had been feeling what is described as worry, but now I am feeling what you once told me was relief."

Guilt hit him hard as he registered her words. He hadn't had time, or more he hadn't made time, to think of anything or anyone besides Selene and Alan. All the family were either there with him or being kept in the loop back at base, everyone but EOS. He hadn't meant to exclude her or ignore her, he just hadn't thought she would be that concerned. But now, he realised, she had been as affected by Selene becoming a part of his life as everyone else had. She too had changed under his wife's influence, becoming more sociable and understanding, caring more about others, and showing a genuine sense of concern. He knew that she saw Selene as her mother figure as much as she saw him as her father, he'd just never stopped to think that she might be distressed by the news of her accident too.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept you updated. I just didn't think I needed to."

"You didn't," she answered in the matter of fact way that she had. "I have the ability to monitor every call made and to find the information for myself, I just wanted you to tell me."

"I understand that." And he did. He was the same. The doctors could tell him that Selene would be alright until they were blue in the face but he wouldn't believe them until he saw it for himself. "But I'm telling you now, she'll recover." There was no way that she could not. He simply wouldn't allow it.

EOS was quiet again, her lights spinning slowly. "I shall get on with my job, if you have no further need of me."

"Thank you, EOS. I'll keep you updated, I promise."

"Thank you."

His comm disconnected, the light fading, leaving him standing alone in the darkness once again with nothing but the stars above for company.

-x-

He hadn't been gone that long, surely he hadn't. Yet when he looked again at the time he found that more than two hours had passed since he had left her bedside. How could he have gotten so distracted? Left her alone for so long? What kind of husband was he to go gallivanting around stargazing when his wife was lying there unable to come with him?

"Any change?" he asked the nurse as he passed by the nurses' station and entered her room. It was strange, he wanted her to say that nothing had happened because he didn't want to have missed anything, but the lack of news was exhausting. It seemed that, no matter what she said, it wouldn't be good enough.

"Not since you last asked me," Janette said, with a shake of her head, following him to the door. "I've reduced her sedation a little more but there's nothing doing now until the morning. Then we'll be waiting for the Doctor to do his rounds. Why don't you make use of the relatives' room and have a bit of a lie-down, eh?"

"No, thank you, I'll be just fine right here."

"Stubborn article," she muttered, but there was a hint of fondness in her tone that he didn't miss. "She's lucky to have you."

"I'm the lucky one," he said softly, turning his gaze to the bed, the unexpected sight there making him smile.

"What's that"? Janette asked, her eyes following his, taking in the sight of something grey with hints of blue covering her patient. "Where did that come from?"

"It's fine," John assured her, his fingers stroking the soft material of the hoodie that had been spread out over her like a small blanket. "I left it there."

"Alright then," she said, clearly not believing him but too tired to bother arguing something that was doing no harm. "I'll see if I can fetch you a few more pillows, shall I? And maybe another blanket?"

"That would be appreciated, thank you."

"I'll do my best," she said, bustling off with her usual quick steps.

That was something they all said a lot, John had noticed, variations of 'I'll do my best', 'I'll see what I can do,' 'let's just wait and see,' anything but give you a definite promise. He understood it, he knew why, he had the same policy, never promise something you weren't completely sure you could keep.

He sat down in his chair again and pulled out his phone. His brother answered on the second ring, proving his theory correct.

"So you couldn't sleep either, huh? How did you manage to sneak in without Nurse Janette seeing you?"

"I have my ways."

John chuckled, amazed that he could find the slightest hint of humour in anything right now but taking it as a good sign that he did. "Thank you for checking on her."

"She's my best friend." He didn't need to say anything else.

"Yeah," John nodded, "she is."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes, I was practically threatened with eviction unless I took myself off to the cafeteria."

"Good, you need to keep your strength up, she's going to need you soon enough."

"And so do you, because I'm not the only one she's going to want."

"Yeah, I know."

"Get some sleep, if all goes well they'll be waking her tomorrow, it won't be long before the demands start."

"I never thought I'd be looking forward to that," Scott said, shaking his head lightly at the thought, a small laugh escaping. "Try to get some rest too, for her if not for yourself."

"I'll try," John promised. "I'll see you in the morning."

-x-

"You look like crap."

John jolted awake, his chin dropping off his hand on which it was propped when his elbow slid off the arm of the chair it was resting on.

"Thanks," he muttered, scrubbing at his face, trying to wake himself up. He'd been awake for far too long, unable to rest properly sat up as he was in a chair.

"Any news yet?"

"No," John huffed, lifting his arms above his head and stretching his spine in an effort to feel a little relief from the near-constant backache he was suffering. "They said, all being well, that they'll wake her up this evening, the doctor just needs to check her over first."

"Good. Here."

A bag was tossed in his direction, and he fumbled to catch it, caught off guard. "What's this?"

"Clothes, toiletries, things that you need. Virgil gave it to me to bring in for you."

"Thanks, but I don't need it. I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Adam folded his arms, staring at John with the exact same expression that they so often saw on Selene. John declined to comment, but Adam seemed to have inherited something else along with his sister's death stare, her inability to take a hint.

"Dude, your hair is flat and greasy, you've got three days of stubble on your chin, you're still wearing your uniform and frankly, my man, you stink."

John's eyebrow lifted in surprise, he'd never heard Adam speak this way, with such firmness and lacking his usual airy laidback tone. Maybe that was another thing he'd learned having Selene as a big sister.

"You look like shit, you've got bags under your eyes and you haven't slept more than a cat nap in days. And she'll know, you know she'll know. No matter how much you try to deny it, she'll know that you've been here, worrying yourself sick."

"She's my wife," John growled, in no way in the mood to deal with another person telling him what to do. He was fed up with people trying to boss him around, thinking they knew what he needed better than he did. He didn't need sleep, he didn't need food, he didn't need lectures, he needed his wife.

"And she's my sister, what does that have to do with the fact that the moment she wakes up and sees you like that she'll be worrying more about you than herself?"

John sucked in a breath, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the bag that still rested on his lap. He wanted to deny it, he really did, but he knew it was true. Selene never worried about herself when there were others around to focus her smothering instincts on.

"I'm right, you know I'm right, so just admit it," Adam pushed.

"I'm not leaving her." He'd lost count of the amount of times he'd had to say that over the last few days.

"Dude, broken record," Adam groaned, rolling his eyes. "Look, did they say that they would let you know when they were waking her?"

"Yeah," John was forced to admit. "They said they would wait until we could all be here."

"So that means you can do us all a favour and spare us from her wrath. Go and make use of that and tidy yourself up."

"Fine, but only because she'll probably try to launch herself out of bed to kick my ass if I don't." He could see it so clearly, what might sound like an offhand joke could very easily become a reality if Selene woke up to see him looking as bad as Adam claimed he did. The last thing he wanted was to give her another reason to be upset, waking up in hospital would be distressing enough. He owed it to her to pull himself together, to make sure that the first time she saw him he looked strong and calm, just as she needed him to be.

"Wouldn't put it past her," Adam agreed, settling himself in the other chair. "Now go, trust someone else to look after her for once."

John nodded, getting stiffly to his feet, the bag dangling from his hand. "Thanks."

Adam shrugged, back in his laidback hippy persona as if he'd never said anything. "It's chill, my man, we're gonna have a little bro and sis time. I'm gonna tell her all the things she suspected I did as a kid but never admitted to when she can't hit me for it, clear the old karma."

John pressed his lips together, feeling like laughing would be disrespectful in such a setting, but still feeling rather grateful that he had the urge to laugh at all. Maybe things were looking up a little.

-x-

"Why are they making us wait out here again?" Celia asked for maybe the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Because they are," Jeff said calmly. "Because it's the rules."

"Well, the rules are ridiculous. That's my daughter in there and I should be allowed to be there with her."

John kept quiet, knowing that now was not the time to flex his husband card in her face and say that if anyone had the right to be in there it was him.

"They are trying to do what's best for Sis," Adam added. "You heard what the doctor said, people that have been through physical trauma and been sedated are often disoriented and confused when they wake up. They respond better to a calm environment."

"I can be calm! When have I not been calm? What could be more calming than waking up to see your mother?"

Scott stifled a very inappropriate snort of amusement, catching John's eye when he looked his way. John's nod was barely perceivable, but it was enough to let Scott know that John had thought the exact same thing.

"Virgil, tell her why," Adam called, dragging him into the conversation in a last, desperate attempt to get his mother to see reason.

"It's to ensure that she wakes up as peacefully and calmly as possible. If she were to wake up and see any of us she could start to panic or want to talk to us rather than the doctors. They will need to perform a few tests and check her over, so it's best that she's not overstimulated as soon as she wakes."

"Well that I understand, thank you. Why couldn't you have just told me that?" Celia demanded, turning back to Adam..

"Because I've tried twice and each time you ignored me," he answered placidly. "Besides, it's better coming from Virgil, him you listen to."

"Well, he's so smart and well turned out," Celia cooed, shooting adoring looks in Virgil's direction. Virgil grinned back at her, totally at ease with the fact that parents and older ladies just seemed to love him.

"It can't be much longer, can it?" Alan groaned, his foot tapping up and down on the dull tiled floor.

"This sort of thing takes time," Grandma told him. "According to the nurse, they started weaning her off the sedation yesterday, just giving her enough to keep her peaceful and allow her to rest. Now they're making sure that she's breathing alright on her own, removing her chest drain as her scans came back clear, and waking her up. That is a lot to ask her to go through in a short space of time. I know you want to see her and want to know she's OK, we all do, but we're just going to have to be patient."

-x-

Her throat hurt. No, scratch that. Her everything hurt. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head she ached. She winced, sucking in a sharp breath. Heard a whimpering noise that may or may not have come from her.

She tried to open her eyes but brightness assaulted them and she closed them again, screwing them up tight against the offending light.

Noise. There was noise everywhere. Too much noise. She was used to noise. At least, she thought she was used to noise. Something told her that the noises she was hearing were not her normal level of chaos.

There was a steady and quite high-pitched beeping that was cutting through her brain like it was being jabbed by a knife. It must be some kind of alarm that John had set, something annoying and far too loud. She tried to move, to roll over, to pull the pillow over her head and block it out but the action was thwarted by both the lance of pain that accompanied it and the hands that pressed down on her shoulders.

That hurt and she fought against them, hurting herself even more.

"Check her pain levels, she might need a little more."

"On it."

"Easy now, take it easy. You can't move just yet."

She opened her mouth, trying to speak but nothing came out. She tried again, managing a breathless little wheeze, a squeak that scared her more than all the noises, the voices that talked quietly to each other, the hands that she could feel all over her body, everything. The lack of voice, the inability to speak…

A panicked scream tried to come out, but the sound caught in her throat, making her cough violently.

"Airway seems clear, coughing is normal."

"Selene, honey, calm down for us, can you calm down?" This voice was different, sounding a little nicer than the first and she turned towards the speaker. "Can you open your eyes for us? Can you do that? Just try for us."

She wanted to do as she was told, she wanted to try but her eyelids felt like lead, weighted down and ignoring her instructions to lift.

"Give her a little oxygen, that might help clear her head."

She felt something pressing over her mouth and came up fighting, her arms lifting, hands fumbling in an attempt to bat it away. She didn't like anything near her face, especially over her nose or mouth. It scared her, reminded her of times when she had been forcefully silenced when she had dared to answer back.

"Selene, Selene, you're OK, it's alright, you're safe. You're in hospital, you were in an accident, but you're safe."

Hospital? Why was she in the hospital? Nothing made sense. She wasn't even sick, was she? She didn't think she was, but then she couldn't remember how she had gotten there in the first place.

"Can you try to open your eyes for us?"

That voice sounded nice too, like she could trust its owner. Finally, with a great deal of effort, she managed to wrench her eyes open. Again the light seared her eyeballs, but she held strong, determined to stay awake.

"Do you hurt? Can you feel any pain, sweetie?"

She looked about, beyond confused. Had they been right? It certainly looked like a hospital. Why was she in the hospital? The panic that had dulled a little came back full force.

"Selene, no!"

"Honey, no! You can't try to get up. You're too poorly for that, you need to stay put."

"Poorly?" she managed to croak out.

"Yes, poorly. You were in an accident. Do you remember anything about it?" The voice appeared to belong to a doctor of some description. White coat equals a doctor, right? Doctors were safe, weren't they?

"Accide…" she trailed off, unable to focus on anything much beyond how much she hurt. "Hurt."

"Do you hurt now?"

She barely managed a nod, her whole body felt heavy, too heavy. She just wanted to sleep, the blackness of unconscious oblivion seemed so tempting. Maybe if she just closed her eyes again she could slip away…

No! She couldn't sleep, she was in the hospital. Something had happened.

She felt a warmth flooding through her arm and with it came a little relief from the stabbing pain, dulling it to a milder ache. That helped, that made it a little easier…

"Do you remember anything?" the nice doctor asked again. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Se…Sel."

"That'll do. Do you remember what year it is?"

"Twe-twenty sixty-five."

"Good, that's right, that's good. Can you remember driving home?"

Home? Driving? Had she been driving? Something vaguely like a memory was tickling at the back of her mind. Abstract, like a scene from a movie you hadn't really watched but still felt familiar when you saw it again.

She grasped for it, tried to mentally grab hold of the memory and drag it forward into sharper focus. But there was nothing there.

"You had been to an event and you were driving home when you got into an accident," a nearby nurse filled in for her.

"Event…" What event? The only thing she had been planning on going to was comic con…"Alan!"

Where was Alan? If she had been coming home from comic con then Alan would have been with her.

Once again hands had to hold her down, pushing her back against the bed as she made another desperate bid for freedom.

-x-

John's head snapped up as the door to the relatives' room opened and the doctor entered the room.

"Is she awake?" Celia demanded, tossing aside the magazine she hadn't really been reading and leaping to her feet.

"Yes, she's awake. She's still very drowsy from the pain medication but we've taken her off all sedation so she should work it out of her system in the next twenty-four hours."

Celia nodded, taking the hand that Adam offered her and squeezing tight.

"There were no complications, she's doing very well. In a few hours we'll try to get her to drink a little water and if she keeps that down we'll clear her for a meal replacement drink or two before she has a meal tomorrow."

"Does she remember anything about the accident?" Alan asked.

"Not any details as yet, but she got herself a little distressed asking for someone called Alan."

"That's me, I was with her," Alan explained, lifting his slinged arm as if the doctor needed proof.

"Can we see her?" John asked.

"Not all of you I'm afraid, just her husband for now, he's the one she's been looking for."

Celia looked like she wanted to argue but thought better of it.

"She's a bit confused at the moment and too many people can make it worse," the doctor explained gently, making sure she knew that it was nothing to do with her.

"Confused how?" Celia asked, her annoyance and disappointment instantly forgotten. "We were told that the bump to the head she took left no lasting damage."

"It didn't as far as we can tell, but some level of confusion is expected." The doctor paused, fighting back a small laugh. "I'm sorry, but we often hear some strange things from our patients as they wake up and Selene was no exception."

Everyone stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Many patients ramble on while the sedative is working its way out of their system, they often say things they don't mean. In Selene's case she tried to get out of bed a number of times and demanded we open the blinds to see the stars if it was a clear night because her husband lives in space." The doctor smiled kindly at John, having only just come on shift and not having met him before. "Obviously she's suffering from a mild delusion fantasy brought on by her time asleep, it's perfectly normal."

"She's not delusional," John said, unable to stop the grin that was forming on his face as he got to his feet. "She's perfectly sane. And she's going to be fine."