I'm about ready to shove toothpicks in-between my eyelids to keep myself from falling asleep. It's been ages. Days, weeks, years – centuries!
My eyes wearily shift to the clock on the wall to the left. Huh. It's been two minutes. My eyes fall back to Sam's still form dutifully.
Please wake, Sam. I need you.
I reach over, grasping her hand. It's invaded by IV tubes and the annoying, irritating finger thing that keeps track of her blood pressure. Her whole body is drabbed in white and hospital doohickeys and such… Still, she's never looked more beautiful.
'Cos she's alive.