Doc figured he would be used to the bustling chaos and the heavy lights that filled the emergency department. After all, he had spent the better part of twenty years in an ER like this one before he started his own practice, but this was different. Running a hand over his face, the older doctor sipped the coffee one of the kind nurses gifted him with, and tried to imagine the next few weeks and months. With a TBI, he knew to expect almost anything with the recovery period with no patient being the same in their durability. It was times like this he almost wished he did not have the type of experience he did.

Turning into the room where his wife laid motionless, he took a seat beside her bed and reached for her hand. It felt warm to the touch, but that was the only sign she was still alive, still holding on despite all the odds. A medically induced coma designed to take pressure off the brain. It was a horrifying prospect, but it was the only thing making sense in his mind. Ignoring the tubes breathing for her, he almost didn't know what to say to her to bolster her spirits. Despite conflicting evidence to the contrary, Doc believed the theory that a loved one could hear their family and friends speaking to them. He was counting on that now.

"Hope? I, uh, I don't really know if you can hear me or not." Clasping his hands in front of him, he prayed for strength. "All those hogwash studies never really impressed me much, but it's now or never." Looking around to make sure he was alone, he turned back to his wife. "I have a lot to say, but I guess the one thing I want to say is I'm sorry." Ignoring the tear that slid down his cheek, he pressed on. "I'm sorry I kept you out of the loop with Lily. It was stupid of me, Hope, and it never should have been handled like that."

With a deep breath, he pressed on. If nothing else, he could keep her in the loop now of all the things that were happening in their small town, and that was what he intended to do.