Jack worked his butt off at every therapy session and began using a weight bench at home. If the muscles in his legs needed to be stronger than he'd make them stronger. Sam watched him carefully, worried that he might be pushing too hard again, but he seemed to handling things well.

"You don't have to try so hard, you know," she told him one day.

"Yes I do, I told you I wouldn't go down the aisle in a wheelchair and I'm not going to do it with a cane either. I want to walk you down the aisle. Period."

"Jack we don't even have a date set yet."

"All the more reason for me to work hard. You could decide you wanted us to get married next month and I would need to be ready."

"I promise I won't bring up the subject of a wedding date until after you are healed, just don't push yourself too hard again, ok?"

"I'm not going to, I swear it."

A month passed and you could see a dramatic change in Jack's legs. The time spent in therapy had made him toned and defined. Sandy had him walking the parallel bars again and Jack did it quite well. His balance was good and his stride even.

"You've been working out, haven't you?" Sandy asked him, one afternoon.

"Just a little. Do I need to stop?"

"Not if you are pain free. Use your head and if your leg starts to hurt, then stop."

"You bet'cha," Jack agreed.

Jack was spending less and less time walking with the cane but had a slight limp. Sam told him it just added character.

Doctor Compton released him from his care, but he still had therapy twice a week. He had stopped using the weights at home and Sandy had taken him off the parallel bars. Now he just walked laps in the gym at the therapy center, or swam.

"Today I want you to run one lap," Sandy told him on one visit.

"Jog a lap?" Jack asked, remembering all to clearly what happened the last time.

"Just one lap, you can do it, Jack."

He started off slowly, and gradually sped up until he turned into the homestretch at a good pace. He came to a stop where Sandy stood waiting on him.

"Very good," she said. "When you can do that four times, I'll cut you loose from my care."

"You mean I can finally get away from you?"

"No, I can finally get away from you."

Jack had always kept himself in pretty good shape, but he was in the best shape he'd been in for many years. His laps during therapy were easy to do, and he enjoyed them. He didn't feel any pain in either leg even if he pushed his speed up a little.

His routine became comfortable again, living with Sam, running or swimming at the therapy center, and just having a new appreciation for life in general. He began to think about setting a date for the wedding and wondered if Sam was ready to.

"What would you think about June tenth?" Jack asked her one morning.

"For what?" she answered, not sure what he was talking about.

"To get married."

"That's just two month away, Jack. I need more time to get everything organized."

"Want to just elope?"

"No, but I need a little more than two months notice. And I thought we weren't going to discuss this until after you were completely heald?"

"I'll be released from Sandy's torture in a few days, if you want to we can wait till then, but I'm not wasting anymore time. I wasted too much time that we could have been together, I won't do it again."

One week after he had that conversation with Sam he ran his four laps in the gym and Sandy released him from her care. It had been five months since the accident and he had come a long way.

"You have to pick a date now," he said to Sam as soon as he got into the car.

"You were released? That's great!"

"Now were going to get married and I'm resigning," he reached over and took her hand kissing the back of it.

Sam stared at him for a second. She hadn't considered Jack resigning.

"I just want to spend time with you now, all the time I have left."

"But Jack--"

"No buts, you said yes to marrying me and I intend to hold you to it"

"Let's go home and look at the calender," Sam said, "then we can pick a date."

"About damn time," Jack said with a grin.

The End

A/N : Thanks go out to NiteJade for her beta work, to Dr. Angie Whitesell for answering all my silly questions about fractures and dislocations without laughing, and to Doctor Scott Compton for the use of his name.