"Oh, Mom, why won't she wake up?" His voice cracks. "I nearly lost her."

"In time, sweetheart," my Mom whispers. "In time."

"To hell with time," I nearly shout, standing violently and clenching my teeth. "I want her awake and I want her awake now."

My eyes are shinning with anger but my mother simply continues to stare at me with love. Eventually, her ease takes me over and I move warily to slump into my chair once more.

"Why won't she just open her eyes?"

I'm haunted by her gentle breathing and darkness. She's so immobile; so fragile and pale.

"She can't," she stated simply. "She's healing."

"While I'm breaking apart."

My dark thoughts envelope me like an old friend, and as my mother kisses my forehead and mumbles something I do not hear before she leaves, I give into them.

It has been nearly twenty hours now. The sun is not yet up, but soon, it will be. It will cast its orange glow into this room and breathe life into it. It will help cover me in warmth- a warmth I haven't felt since holding her in my arms what seemed like so long ago. I crossed one leg over the other, leaning my elbow on the chair's arm and sighing heavily. My Blackberry vibrated in my pocket and I grabbed it out angrily.

"What?" I snapped into the phone.

I heard Taylor's intake of breath as he quickly responded: "Just checking in on the Mrs., sir."

"She isn't awake." My response came cooler than I had hoped for it to. I could envision Taylor nodding mutely as he hung up.

That's what I did. I pushed and pushed until the people I loved where pushed so far away that they didn't bother me anymore. Taylor always came back, though- he always bounced right back. My mother and father had always tried over and over when I pushed farther as well. Anastasia had even come back…Once. She had come back once, was all…Would she come back to me again? I knew deep down that somehow she would find a way. She was a fighter; she was my strong, beautiful woman. She had never ceased to amaze me.

She aimed to please constantly.

I gripped her hand in my own and placed feather-light kisses along her knuckles. I ran the pad of my thumb over her cold, smooth nail. She upheld herself well and groomed beautifully. Her body was perfect. She was a Siren I had never hadn't had the luck to meet sooner.

How different would my life be if I had lost her; if she had died at that bastard's hands? How would I have coped? I could never get another Submissive. I could never find a woman as good as her. She was the only light in my life that brought true meaning. She forced me to realize the depth of my own soul- the love that I had- and that I wasn't that grimy, little boy any longer. I was a grown, prestigious, kind-hearted man. Kind-hearted…So she says. Ana claims something that I have never believed: that I have a heart at all.

She would know. She's the only one that has touched it. The inner parts of her soul are more beautiful than any woman I have ever met. It's what captivated me. Her inner and outer beauty- during that meeting- was what sealed my fate. She was awkward, uncoordinated, and gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. She was a sight for sore eyes. She was a sight for a sore, sore heart.

She had been a healing salve for every wound that had been imbedded deep within me all of my life. Her words were a deep reassurance of love and hope. Her body was a temple that I wanted to praise forever. She was the epitome of radiance. She was mine. Bitter tears sprung forth to my eyes and I clutched the side of her bed sheets in my hand.

"Oh, Ana, please," the words stung at the back of my throat. "Please wake up."

My breathless, desperate plea rang out through the room and in a wave of emotion, I found myself throwing my head against the side of her bed, nuzzling into her thigh and taking in deep, calming breaths. My tears were no longer being kept at bay, but falling freely down my cheeks. I rested my right hand on her leg as my left remained holding her own hand. I had done so much to deserve this, but she had done nothing. She didn't deserve to be hurt for my mistakes. She didn't deserve to be unconscious because of a man that loathed me and not her.

Anger ate at my bones, coaxing me to stand violently once more and throw off the sheets, take her home and nurse her back to health on my own. But I couldn't. Another part of me wanted to send Taylor to slaughter Hyde- prison or not- and kill him. I couldn't go to prison myself, I knew, though- I couldn't be away from Ana. I squeezed my eyes shut and stopped the new, fresh tears that were stinging at the back of my eyes. She was safe. Our baby was safe.

That's all I could keep reminding myself for now.

With that, I closed my eyes to rest.

"She's gone." The words found my ears in a pursuit of anger and desperation. I flung myself at him.

"She isn't!" I yelled to the air; into his face. "She's alive- she better be alive."

"I've handled her, Grey. I've saved her from you. I've freed her."

"You've injured her!" I shot back, contesting his sick lies with truth.

"I've killed her," he slurred. "I've killed her and it's all over. You got the family. You got the job. You got the women. I've got the beauty now- the one you actually cared about. You've taken all of that nonsense over your heart. I have your heart now. She's dead, and I want you to break the same way I have since childhood."

"You couldn't have. Please. She's my everything."

"Everything." I mumbled into the air, coming out of my nightmare with a gasp.

I ran a shaky hand through my mess of copper strands. Glancing at my watch, I saw that only an hour had passed since I had come to Ana's side and nestled up to her. I lifted my head, ignoring the throbbing pain in my neck.

"You're getting old, Grey." I smiled sardonically.

Standing, I stretched my limbs and brought feeling to my numb hands and legs once more. My phone was going off at my side once more and I yawned as I reached into my pocket to answer it.

"She's sleeping. No, not napping- she hasn't woken. Unconsciousness still, yes. I don't know, about twenty one hours and-" I glanced at my watch. "-eleven minutes. Yes I have it 'down to a science', Miss Kavanagh. Yeah, I'll have her call you immediately."

Despite my better judgment, I rolled my eyes and pressed the 'end' button quickly.

She was worried for her friend, I knew, but she was a little bit much to deal with at the moment. I had more important things to handle. I had to look after Ana.

I turned on my heel abruptly, watching her sleep once more. I could never tire of staring at her, but watching her sleep while my heart felt as though it would combust from the worry at any moment was going to drive me to my insanity. I needed distance. I could no longer sit. I paced the floor in front of her bed in anguish. Hands behind my back, I watched my shoes in front of me, counting my steps and turning on my heel to start all over when I had finished with one section of my pacing. What could I do to remove my mind from this room; from the fear of losing her? Was there anything I could do? I wasn't so sure.

I would resolve to try and get some more sleep, but with my nightmares, it was impossible. To sleep I needed her curled next to me, and I didn't have that. I stopped my pacing, breathing in deeply as I sipped an old cup of water and took a seat on a plastic chair at the end of her bed. I looked over the chart hanging there at the bottom- it held information that I already knew. Everything about her on that board, I already knew. I smirked at the thoughts that rushed into my mind of her complaining or merely commenting on my 'stalker tendencies'. Who could help but have those tendencies when faced with such a beautiful woman? I had to keep my eyes on her; keep her close. She was mine. I couldn't let her get away. A brief moment of serenity washed over me as I realized that she was, indeed, mine.

Heaving a final, heavy sigh, I placed my hands on my knees and stood, beginning to pace once more where I had left off. I would count my steps. I would count until she awoke, and when she opened her eyes, she would see me standing there. She would see me at the head of her bed, a broad grin and a nervous wringing of the hands present. I would be the first person she saw, and I would be able to rush to her side in that instant and hold her.

All would be well again in that moment. All would be fixed.

All I needed in my life anymore was her.

I would have her again. In time.