As ever thank you to my lovely reviewers from the last part, I am so glad you seem to be enjoying this. Sorry for the slightly delayed update, but I had a manic weekend in Cardiff (visiting the Casualty set!) and therefore got a bit behind with my writing. Hope this update makes up for that though.

So here we go, chapter 7 and Dylan is awake!

For better, for worse

Chapter 7

Friday 2nd March 2012

"You never could keep your mouth shut could you Samantha?" Dylan's gruff voice boomed across the room as she re-entered, finally given permission to return by the departing GS team who had been checking her husband over since he had awoken fifteen minutes before. "I am assuming you have managed to inform the entirety of the hospital that you are still my wife whilst I was otherwise engaged?" he queried.

"Technically your wife," Sam whispered sadly, allowing herself to remember the day back in January 2011 when her husband's dismissive term for her status in his life had wounded her so badly and made her decision to leave just that little bit easier to bear. Regardless of his words however, she couldn't help but be relieved to once again hear the familiar stern tone of his voice towards her, given how he had initially reacted to his increasing level of consciousness and her presence by his side.

As soon as she had realised he was awake she had tried to establish whether he was actually mentally present as well as physically healing, but with the exception of a few words he had initially mouthed and she had been unable to see clearly enough to understand, he had stubbornly refused to communicate with her any further and she had been forced to leave him to retrieve one of the nursing team.

The confusion and alarm that had been evident across her husband's expression had convinced her that his mental faculties were intact enough that he recognised her instantly, but his response to seeing her again had saddened her greatly. Sam had not expected him to be hanging out the flags and dancing a jig upon seeing her again, not that in his current state he would even have been able to achieve such a feat regardless, but she had been disturbed that he had in fact turned his head away from her and had rebuffed the efforts she had made to lighten the mood of the situation.

"You know if you are going to stand there mumbling away to yourself, you could at least do me the courtesy of letting me see you," Dylan continued irritably, retrieving Sam from her thoughts and causing her to consider quite how much of her thinking had been done aloud, albeit luckily too quietly for her husband to hear. "They've got me pinned down to this bed for completely incomprehensible reasons and given that I haven't seen you in over a year I'm not going to talk to you if you choose to stand over there out of my line of view burbling away incoherently."

Sam found herself smiling in spite of the annoyed tone in which she had just been addressed, because as usual Dr Keogh had a very contemptuous attitude towards medical treatment provided another professional and somehow he had managed to make the blame for his current predicament tie neatly in with their own lack of connection over the last fourteen months. In truth she had actually allowed it to slip her mind that underneath his thin hospital blanket he had been secured to the bed across his chest and upper legs in an attempt to minimise risk of further damage to his abdomen, pelvis and lower spinal area, but now that she had been made aware of it once again she realised that it would only be fair to stand in his eye line, either that or risk the possibility he would injure himself further in trying to move to see her or, more likely she assumed, that she would face an even grumpier tirade than she remembered being used to back when they were together.

"I'm right here," she answered, deliberately keeping her tone steady and suddenly finding herself grateful for the fifteen minute interlude at the hands of the doctors for allowing the tears she had been crying immediately prior to her husband's awakening to dry. She stood by his bedside, taking hold of his left hand in her own and leaning forwards slightly so that she could be sure she was in his view. She avoided her husband's gaze by studiously checking over his stats on the various pieces of machinery and kit that were monitoring his condition, noting the exact levels and percentages of each to ensure she would be able to tell immediately if there was any negative change. However on feeling his stare still upon her, she eventually relented and looked down at him making eye contact for the first time since she had departed the room after his outright dismissal of her just a quarter of an hour or so earlier.

"You look a mess," Dylan retorted. "Anyone would think you've had a bad day," he added, allowing his frighteningly familiar dopey half-smile to fill his face as he twisted her grasp on his hand so that he was able to squeeze hers instead.

"I've had better I have to say," Sam responded sarcastically and rolled her eyes at him in despair. "Did the docs tell you what happened?" she questioned, unsure of exactly how much he was aware of the circumstances of his accident or his current state of health.

"Bits and pieces," he replied, sounding somewhat uncertain. "I've already disagreed with their course of treatment in relation to the injuries to my lower abdomen, but I've sought their assurance that they will rectify these in surgery tomorrow," he continued, trying to sound more like his assertive and uncompromising self. He had observed the haste in which his fellow doctors had assessed his condition since they had been called into the room by Samantha and he knew his conduct towards them had only just been shy of disparaging. However given his current status as a prisoner in their surgical bed he felt justified in ensuring he made them aware that his infamous intolerant demeanour was far from being just another one of the rumours than regularly circled Holby City Hospital. He was unsure quite why that felt so important to him, but decided to work on the assumption that if he was going to be the centre of attention and gossip he would rather it be for his own actions that the fact that his previously unmentioned wife was suddenly present at his side.

"You always did make a rubbish patient," Sam joked, before becoming more serious for a moment. "You didn't half give me a scare Dylan; I didn't know what to think. That phone call was so out of the blue and I had no idea what I was walking into." She paused and he looked up at her, trying to establish from her tone what she meant by that statement. "I never meant to tell them I was your wife you know," she added simply.

"What the words just fell from your tongue? You had nothing to do with them at all then?" Dylan responded, noting the derisive tone evident in his own voice and the angered look that his wife gave him in return.

"Look, it's hardly my fault," Sam started, trying but failing to keep the annoyance from her words, "that you put me down as your next of kin. If you didn't want them to know I existed you should have put down someone else." Even as the words exited her mouth she regretted them, partly because she knew that neither of them actually had anyone else but mainly because despite everything that had occurred she would always want to be the one that was called if something happened to him. She didn't think she would ever be able to bear the thought of him being hurt or in trouble and no one thinking to notify her any longer.

"And who exactly would I have put down instead?" Dylan responded incredulously, as he wrestled slightly against the restraints on his body in a move Sam knew instantly was through frustration.

"Zoe?" she queried, but on seeing the slight look of horror cross his face on her uttering the other woman's name, she decided to change the subject. She guessed that the thought of her knowing of Dr Hanna's existence and implied importance in his life inferred to him that they had met and if she knew Dylan half as well as she used to, this would have significantly disrupted his longing to have all parts of his life divided out into different boxes that he was able to control by keeping separate. "Well what would you have done if I was out of the country?" she continued, pointedly issuing a reminder that she would not always be around for these types of circumstances as much as she would want to be if a similar scenario recurred.

"But you're not," Dylan answered immediately. "You don't fly until Friday," he added without thought but on seeing the impact those few words had on the woman at his bedside he felt the need to offer a sense of clarification. "The army still have me listed as your husband so they've always given out that information, just like they notified me that you flew back from Cyprus back in October. I had thought you might have gate-crashed into my life before now I have to say. You never were particularly good at being subtle."

"Says you," Sam shot back. "You've been checking up on me?" she added questioningly. "So you're allowed to worry about me, but I'm not allowed to show you the same concern?"

"I never said I was worried," Dylan countered, but at the moment their eyes met they both knew that this particular statement was far from being the case and he felt himself hurriedly averting his gaze from the slightly drained looking woman. He was still holding on to a lingering sense of regret at how quickly he had pushed her away when she had tried to anchor him in reality by holding his hand as he regained consciousness, but in truth at the time he had not been able to fathom why she was present at his side. It wasn't as if he had not been aware she was listed as his next of kin, in fact in the days after the E.D. fire he had pondered the impact it would have had on her if he and Zoe had not been safely rescued and she had received that particular telephone call. However the last memory he had prior to waking up had been of him walking outside his workplace, thinking about the time he was due to spend with his current partner and yet when he had opened his eyes it had been his former wife who had been the one to offer him comfort. Their split over a year before had felt so final, even in spite of him failing to initiate divorce proceedings against her, that it had felt easier, simpler for him to comprehend, to act as he always had done prior to his marriage and try to put Sam's part in his life behind him, despite knowing that this would be nearly impossible given the impact she had had on him in such a short space of time. To see her just standing there as if the past few years hadn't occurred and she was very much still the rightful claimant to his bedside had thrown him so much that tears had pricked the back of his eyes and he had refused to communicate with her in fear that whatever the unfamiliar emotion was that had overtaken him would spill out of his mouth without him being able to prevent it.

"Where is Dervla?" he asked on his thought processes being reminded of the circumstances of the accident. Sam recognised the concern etched across his features and she was clear that any anxiety he may have felt over her whilst she was out in warzones was easily outweighed by the apprehension he had over the fate of his beloved dog.

"She's fine, don't worry about her," Sam answered, patting his arm reassuringly. "She wasn't hurt in the accident at all and I've got one of your colleagues looking after her, Big Mac I think he said his name was." Dylan went to speak, but was cut off by Sam before he was able to rebuke her. "You never even told me Dervla was sick so don't even start lecturing me on what is and isn't right for our dog," she snapped, slightly sharper than she had anticipated leaving Dylan feeling suitably disciplined.

"Will you take care of her for me?" he asked earnestly. "Obviously I know you have to go back by next Friday, but if you could stay until then or at least until I get out of here, that would be agreeable. I wouldn't want her to be looked after by strangers, you know how much she would despise that," he continued and Sam knew that even if she had been likely to refuse his request she couldn't very well just leave the poor mutt with someone until Dylan was discharged, although she was far from convinced that it was the dog who had a problem with other people. "You can stay on the boat if you want?" he added, obviously trying hard to convince her. "I mean, you will need somewhere to stay and it makes sense as it will give Dervla continuity."

Sam smiled, knowing that Dylan's care for the animal meant he treated it very much as one would a small child and with that in mind the idea of a confused and disrupted Dervla became too much to bear.

"It's fine, of course I'll take care of her, I've already cleared it that I won't be joining my unit till Friday anyway," she began, making out as best she could that her decision had been made with reluctance. "It means I won't be going on any of the pre-deployment exercises, but I'm sure that won't kill me," she added, before hesitating slightly at the inappropriate turn of phrase she had used, given her imminent departure to the fields of war. "I'll stay on your damn boat and look after Dervla, but only until you get out of here. I'm not sticking around any longer than that."

"The keys are in my locker," Dylan replied simply and Sam nodded, sure that she recalled either Mr Jordan or Zoe Hanna referring to having retrieved his key from him when they commenced treatment and therefore making a mental note to obtain it from them before they left for the day.

"Zoe said she would come and sit with you when her shift finishes," Sam blurted out, suddenly remembering her agreement with the woman on briefly allowing her to enter her own mind. She saw a pleased look cross her husband's face as he nodded in response and despite herself felt sad at the thought of him wanting to spend time with the other woman.

"About that," Dylan started, but then was unsure exactly how to start explaining to his wife Zoe's role in his life and how much she had come to mean to him in recent weeks. He was well aware that it would only have been fair of him to inform Sam prior to her accidental discovery of Dr Hanna's existence that he was now in a relationship with someone new, but that would have meant initiating a discussion with her that would have been both incredibly awkward and far too emotive for him to pursue as a course of action.

"It's fine Dylan," Sam broke into the silence, holding his stare and trying to put on her most reassuring smile to indicate that she really was at ease with the situation, despite knowing that this was far from the case and how draining it was to put on a false sense of happiness at the sight of the man she loved moving on with someone new. "You know," she started, unsure if the point she was about to make would be well received or not. "You know I never thought I'd see you again. I certainly never meant to track you down or end up messing things up for you here," she furthered. "If they hadn't called to say you were hurt then I really wouldn't be here at all. I was the one who told you to forget about us and get your life back, so I can't be mad at you for doing just that. I've got a new life now and so have you, we've both got things sorted and that has to be a good thing."

"I know," came the only response from the man lying in the bed, who turned his eyes away from her gaze so as not to let her see the distress he knew was spread across his face. He knew then quite how much he had misjudged the situation, as it was fairly apparent that his wife was more than accepting of him moving on and therefore all he had achieved in keeping her existence a secret was to jeopardise his relationship with Zoe, whilst it appeared from her words that Sam was still in a relationship with her fellow army comrade and had long since moved on from him.

A silence fell upon the room for a number of minutes, but with them both being used to sharing a comfortable hushed quietness for a number of years in their time together neither felt the need to break it for some considerable time.

"You're tired Samantha," Dylan stated matter-of-factly. "Collect Dervla and go home. My surgery is at 10am tomorrow, so you don't need to be back here until just before then," he added, hoping that this remark didn't sound quite as desperate as he felt at wanting her to be by his side before his upcoming operation. He knew that if she hadn't looked so exhausted from the events of the last few days and he hadn't been worried about Dervla being cared for by some incompetent in the E.D. he would never have suggested she leave at all, as her companionship overnight would have reassured the nerves he uncharacteristically felt at tomorrow's scheduled event.

Sam nodded, despite realising that given at some point in the moments of noiselessness she had leant back away from her husband he would not be able to see her gesture. She grabbed her hooded sweatshirt from the back of the chair and her oversized rucksack from the floor and made quickly for the exit.

"They thought I was your daughter," she stated, turning back to look at the patient one last time before departing. "I never knew other people would still think that, not after all this time," she added sadly, with them both being instantly reminded of the time they had shared together at the hospital where they had first met. "Zoe will be up soon to keep you company no doubt, so I'll see you tomorrow," she finished, before she pulled the door open.

"Sam?" Dylan questioned, causing her to hesitate in the doorway and wonder what words would be next from his lips. "Take care of Dervla for me," he spoke firmly, as if giving instructions to a child. He wanted to add so many other comments to that statement, to tell her to sleep well and to take care of herself as well, but somehow those words would not come. Instead he settled for the only three words that would allow themselves to fall from his tongue, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she responded, feeling tears welling up in her eyes at her newfound knowledge of his reciprocation of that particular sentiment and so she quickly exited the room and allowed the door to click shut behind her, adamant that given he was the one hospitalised and in pain that it was not appropriate for him to see her cry.

Thank you for reading as always. Reviews are very welcome, because they make me smile.

I am working on the next few parts so you should have a couple of updates this week - maybe Wednesday and Friday, but hopefully before.

Callie x