Another Update Already? Just one more chapter to go (technically) and this will be my first completed multi-chaptered story.
Now, I couldn't decide whether Sam should live or die - she's my favourite character so I didn't want her to die, but writing Dylan after Sam's death was just too tempting.
So I decided to do both - in this chapter Sam will either live or die, and in the next chapter, starting from the same place as this one she will do the opposite - therefore read whichever ending you like - I should have the last chapter up tomorrow - hopefully before the next episode of Casualty.
And I've got 30 reviews! Yay!
The rest of the world was shut out as he saw that annoying, obnoxious fireman begin heart compressions on his beautiful, (if not always) sweet Samantha.
Not even noticing that he was almost running to her side and pushing the fireman away from her still body, one thought echoed in his head.
She can't die. Not like this. Not now.
Dylan didn't even realise when the second ambulance turning up, and barely blinked when his Sam was lifted up and carried into the back of it - he never stopped his compressions.
He was going to keep her alive, even if it killed him.
Dylan made a promise to himself - as soon as this was all over, as soon as the nightmare was finished, he'd tell her exactly how he felt.
Maybe they could even start over.
Or at least be friends again, instead of avoiding the other like the bubonic plague.
Sam's eyes fluttered, then opened, to find Dylan looking directly at her - she was only half aware of aching pain all over her body, but she was aware enough.
"Am I dying?" she asked, in such a small and terrified voice that it made Dylan think of a seven year old Sam, most likely tormenting her parents.
"No." He answered shortly, the way he always did. "I promise you will not die."
Sam laughed slightly, despite the pain it caused. "Don't make promises you can't keep Dylan. I thought you had learnt that lesson."
"This one I will keep. I will Sam."
Sam's eyes drifted shut, and Dylan shook her shoulder slightly to keep her awake.
Opening her eyes slightly, she took a chance, and told him what she had to say. "I love you." She whispered, and Dylan stared at her. "I never stopped loving you." Her eyes unfocused once more. "I'm sleepy now Dylan. I'm going to sleep."
"No, Sam..." Dylan's warning was too late as Sam's eyes rolled into the back of her head.
Taking her pulse, he began compressions once again, almost before Jeff told him to start.
Counting the compressions, he had almost finished the second lot of thirty before Jeff spoke again.
"Abdomen is rock hard." The voice was measured, with an undercurrent of something far stronger just below the surface.
Dylan ignored the words and kept on with compressions, until Jeff spoke again.
"Dylan ... you have to stop now. She's dead." He told the doctor, who was now just staring at Sam, as her oxygen mask was taken away.
She was dead.
He closed his eyes, and hit his fist, hard, against her metal resting place.
Leaning in close so that the paramedic would not be able to see or hear, even had he been trying, Dylan whispered in Sam's still warm ear.
"I never stopped loving you either." The words came too late to help her, but maybe, they would help him.
He pressed a kiss to her blood stained forehead.
And leaning back in his chair, he never once let go of her hand.
He may have broken his final promise to her, but he wouldn't let her face the darkness alone.
It was 94 seconds of stillness later that they arrived at the Holby ED, the sirens still going loud and strong.
Had it really been less than three hours ago since they were here, broken beyond repair perhaps, but still here.
Had it really been less than three hours ago, that Sam had been so annoyed and happy and confused and Sam and not dead.
Three minutes after the ambulance turned up, no one had moved - no one had been able to, and Zoe stormed out to the car park to see what was taking so long.
Expecting to see Dylan and Sam arguing, and wanting an answer as to why neither of them were with the casualties, she opened the door.
Them yelling at each other, she could handle.
Them ignoring each other, she could handle.
Them kissing each other, she could handle.
But not this.
Sam caught her eye first, lying perfectly still on the bed, covered in both fresh and dried blood - she managed to look almost ... peaceful, with a half smile etched onto her face.
Then Zoe's breath hitched in her throat as she took in the fact that Sam's chest was no longer rising nor falling, and Dylan ... Dylan just looked ... broken.
Hunched over in the hard plastic chair in the back of the ambulance, shoulders heaving, Zoe knew that the doctor was crying - expressing more emotion than he had ever before, even more than when he had almost died.
But this wasn't an almost.
And this was Sam.
She supposed to be invincible, invulnerable.
It wasn't supposed to end like this.
It was another twenty minutes before anyone came looking for them; Lloyd, Scarlett and Mr Jordan - a stranger bunch there has never been.
It was a hard job getting them away from the ambulance, and Sam...
Scarlett led Zoe (who was still in mute shock) away, as Dixie arrived for Jeff.
All four would suffer from nightmares in the weeks to come.
The ambulance driver left of his own accord about the same time - he had not known Sam as well as the others, but he still felt her loss.
That left Lloyd and Mr Jordan to get Dylan away from Sam - a near impossible feat as he had still not let go of her hand.
But eventually Mr Jordan convinced the doctor with red-rimmed eyes to leave Sam, and come into the hospital, leading him past the curious nurses and doctors who stared at the usually stoic doctor in shock, wondering what could have happened in the matter of hours he had been gone, and into the strangely empty Staff Room.
The lack of presence of one Dr Nicholls only added fuel to the rumour mill.
In reality, the unfortunate doctor had been moved directly down to the morgue without passing through the ED, to give her that final piece of peace.
And Dylan knew it.
He knew he was never going to see his Samantha again.
Never going to see her smile or laugh or scold or glare.
Never going to see her eyes light up in glee, or her mouth turn down in disapproval.
Never going to see her again.
He locked the staff room door from the inside, the second Mr Jordan left, wanting to stay alone that little while longer.
From outside the staff room, those gathered could hear first a single object smashing, followed by a barrage of similar objects thrown about the small room that none dared to enter.
Then the noise lowered again, and the now somewhat recovered Zoe was soon volunteered by the others to check on the distraught doctor, through the second door - the one he did not bother to lock.
Avoiding the piles of glass clustered by the walls and cupboards, Zoe found Dylan with his eyes closed, and his head lent back against the wall. His hands were bloody from the broken shards of glass and crockery he had destroyed in his anger, and needed medical attention, as did the rest of his cuts and scrapes - the ones he had sustained down in the cave.
Gently reaching down to look at his hands, he pulled them sharply away from her - suddenly opening his eyes and staring at her in mute distrust.
"Dylan, you've got to let me look at your hands." She told him, trying to look at his hands again He pulled them away from her once more. "Dylan, Sam would want..."
She never got to finish her statement as Dylan stood up, a look of anger prominent on his face.
"WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT SAM! SHE'S DEAD!" A look of disbelief flew across his face as it finally settled in.
On the other side of the door, those gathered pulled back instantly in shock as the rumours were killed instantly, and silence prevailed.
They prayed to whatever they believed in that it was not true.
Sam had helped them all, known them all, in some small way.
But Dylan wouldn't lie about something like this.
They wondered how it had happened.
How the fierce army doctor had been defeated.
Sighing, and holding his hands out for Zoe to patch up he simply uttered the same phrase over and over again. "She's dead. She's dead..." Tears fell down his face, slowly at first.
They said the nightmare was over, but in reality, it was only just beginning.
Thank you for reading, and please review,
Mia.