Beep…Beep…Beep…

Sam wasn't sure if the constant whirring of the machines in the hospital was comforting or just plain annoying. At first, they kept his mind off of everything that was going on, but then he kept seeing Andy flat line on the operating table and he had to get up and walk around.

Right now, Sam was sitting in a waiting room, waiting for someone to come out and talk to him about how Andy was doing. Sam wasn't even sure how he arrived in the room; his legs hadn't been able to support him while he was observing Andy's surgery, but he somehow carried himself out, unable to watch anymore.

Sam was perched, not moving, on the edge of one of the padded, yet uncomfortable, seats. His elbows were resting on his knees, his head downcast with his hands wrapped tightly behind his neck.

The first thing he noticed was Oliver's shoes on the ground where his eyes were focused. He had been sitting in that position for so long, his body protested as he tried to sit up, stiff.

"Here's your coffee," Oliver said quietly, handing Sam the cup. Now more than ever, he looked like he could use it.

Sam looked up at Oliver's sad face with equally sad brown eyes. He looked like he wanted to apologize for running off, but Oliver just waved him off as he took the seat next to Sam. It was then that Sam knew that Oliver was sure that Sam would leave the room as soon as Oliver made his way to go get coffee. Sam realized that Oliver was giving him a chance to do what he really wanted. Sam wanted to thank him, but the words were stuck because of the lump that was constantly in his throat since seeing Andy.

Sensing this, Oliver leaned over and clapped Sam on the shoulder. "No problem, buddy." Oliver didn't know what Sam had seen when he had gone snooping, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. Sam had a haunted look in his eyes, a permanent slump to his shoulders. But out of courtesy, Oliver didn't ask. Sam would tell him if he was ever ready.

The approach of a doctor stripping off his face mask stalled any further conversation between Sam and Oliver. They both rocketed to their feet. Sam downed his lukewarm coffee without even tasting it, tossing it in the nearby trash can before the doctor was in front of them.

The doctor looked at the earnest faces of the two men in front of them. There was a look of hope in their eyes; a look he recognized from most families he met, sitting in this very room. More often than not, he was the one to dash the hope from their eyes. It really took a toll on him, being the bearer of bad and sometimes worse, news.

Slowly, he cleared his throat and introduced himself. "Hello. I am Doctor Hart. I am the surgeon that has been working on Andrea Swarek." Dr. Hart shook each of the men's hands with a firm grip. "Are either one of you family of the patient?"

Sam willed himself to answer the doctor. "I am her husband, Sam Swarek," he choked out.

"Lucky man," Dr. Hart said, giving a small smile, revealing a dimple in only one of his cheeks. Sam wasn't stilled by this remark and Dr. Hart thought it best to stick to the task at hand.

"Ahem. Mrs. Swarek received a lot of external bruising and lacerations to her body, most minor. Three ribs have slight fractures while another two are broken. Her left wrist was broken and her right ankle is severely sprained. There was some internal bleeding, which we tended to rather easily." Dr. Hart remained professional.

Sam could sense there was more coming. A big bombshell.

Seeing as he got no response from Sam, Dr. Hart continued. "It was after tending to the internal bleeding that we found another bleed, this time to her brain. Thankfully, we caught it early, with only…minor complications…and we were able to stop it."

Sam couldn't help but snort at the doctor's stumble over the words 'minor complications'. Sam knew it had not been minor, but he didn't trust himself to speak until the doctor was finished. Oliver shot him a curious look, but remained silent as well.

"Unfortunately, the bleed in her brain affected the part of the brain that affects consciousness and motor functions, such as breathing. We are unsure at this time whether Andrea Swarek will wake up. Or if she does, it is unsure of the complications that will follow," Dr. Hart said, letting it all out in one breath.

Sam was stoic. Inside, though, he was falling apart. He could feel his heart ripping into a million pieces. "Complications? Such as what?" Sam said, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the doctor had said it was possible that Andy wouldn't wake up. Oliver on the other hand, was fighting back tears.

"Well," Dr. Hart said, contemplating. "She might never regain the ability to breathe on her own or to speak or ultimately lead the normal lifestyle she once had. In my opinion, when she wakes up, it wouldn't be to a life worth living. She would be in a vegetative state, most likely. Even if she were to regain consciousness and somehow have the ability of her motor functions, it's quite common that memory loss will occur as well."

Sam swirled all of this knew found information around in his brain. Somehow, it wasn't sticking right now. Andy was fine; she was going to be fine. Sam felt cold all over and realized he was shaking. If it weren't for Oliver's hand, firm on his shoulder, Sam felt like he could just float away.

"Can we see her?" Oliver asked, as a tear fell from his eye. Luckily, no one else was around to notice. Funny, that Oliver Shaw actually had a sensitive side. If Sam had been in his right mind, he might have even given Oliver a hard time about it. But given the circumstances…it was acceptable.

"I ask that you go in one at a time. I'll give you two a moment. Her room is right down the hall on your right," Dr. Hart said, pointing down the nearest hallway. He went on his way, without Sam or Oliver paying much attention.

Sam turned towards Oliver. Each movement took up all his energy. "I don't know if I can do this alone," Sam admitted. The desperation was clear in his voice.

Oliver sniffed, trying to gain control of himself. He couldn't show weakness right now, not when Sammy needed him. "That is your wife in there, Sam. She needs you right now. You can do this," Oliver said, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and looking him in the eyes. "You can do this."

Shakily, Sam allowed Oliver to lead him down the hall. They stopped right outside Andy's room. The door was open.

"I'll be right in the waiting room if you need me," Oliver promised. He refused to look in the room. He wasn't strong enough yet.

Sam stopped Oliver before he could go too far. "Thank you," he said, his voice only slightly louder than a whisper. Oliver offered him a small, sad smile before loping back to the waiting room.

Sam took a deep breath to steady himself before he made his way into Andy's room.

The figure that lay on the bed was frail looking; looking even smaller connected to an array of machines. He could see a semblance of his Andy, but at the same time, he couldn't fathom Andy lying in a hospital bed like this. She looked so vulnerable.

Sam crept closer, being as silent as he could; irrationally, he didn't want to disturb her.

Half of Andy's head was shaved and wrapped in a bright white bandage. Her skin was a smattering of discolored bruises and cuts; some deeper than others. Her left wrist was sealed in a plain black cast. Sam couldn't help thinking that she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.

He let out a half sigh, half sob and took a seat, taking Andy's hand in his; the one that didn't have the cast on it was as soft as he remembered. He bowed his head so it was resting on the top of their joined hands.

"Andy," he whispered, kissing her hand and threading his fingers through hers. "I love you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me most." Over and over he cursed himself for leaving Andy; it didn't matter that he couldn't possibly have known the hotel was going to explode. It didn't matter. He would carry this weight around on his shoulders forever.

It was then in the darkness that he finally let his tears fall. Unsurprisingly, Sam was a silent crier, although he seldom cried at all. His tears fell onto his hand and he watched as it traveled down onto Andy's hand, which he still held tightly in his own. It created its own little river of sorrow as more tears followed.

"You need to wake up now my love..." Sam said, his voice breaking. He wasn't even sure if she could hear him. But he needed her now almost as much as she needed him. He examined her face carefully, waiting to see even the slightest twitch. Alas, he saw nothing.

"So, the police and firefighters don't think the explosion was an accident," Sam said. He needed to keep talking to her. It was what would wake her up, he was sure of it. And it was keeping him sane. "I promise Andy, I will find out who did this and I will make them pay," Sam vowed.

Suddenly, Sam had the urge to be closer to Andy, just to hold her and make sure she was okay. Carefully, he slid onto the bed, being careful not to jostle her or hit any of her broken bones. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, shadowing her, protecting her. He looked down on her and stroked what was left of her hair back from her forehead.

It wasn't long before he fell asleep, with his arm draped over her, breathing in the scent of her, keeping her broken body safe until she was able to return.

So Andy is alive, thankfully. But is this the life she would have chosen? And is it possible she can defy all odds and eventually wake up? Keep reading to find out! Updates will be coming steadily. Please, as always, I look forward to reading your reviews. Thanks!

xo, Janelle