Sam could feel him staring at her back. He hadn't moved in over an hour, though she did hear the screeching of chair legs some time ago and the occasional rustling of a newspaper. When she turned around she was greeted by the site of this Tom person balancing a newspaper on his knee while he turned the pages with his good arm.

"Why are you still here?" She said in a whiny voice as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Because we need to talk." Tom replied without looking up from his newspaper.

"We already did."

"I said we need to talk, not you need to talk at me." Tom clarified, looking up at her.

Sam frowned. His expression was unreadable. She was never very good at telling what people were thinking, but this guy was worst than most people she's come across. Normally she would get some kind of inkling, but there was not a sign on his face that led Sam to a conclusion about his thoughts.

"Get up." Tom said as he cast the newspaper on the seat as he stood.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, swinging her legs off of the bed. Any excuse to get off these hospital beds, even if it was with a mysterious doctor, was an opportunity she was going to take.

"You'll see." Tom said, wheeling a nearby wheelchair over to her.

Sam rolled her eyes.

"I can walk, you know."

"I know that, and you know that, but I'm under strict instructions from Dr Hanna. Now get in." Tom said, nodding his head towards the seat of the chair. "Or you may as well get back in that bed."

Sam stood up and got in the chair, making a show of how displeased she was. She swung her arms and sat down with considerable force, before leaning back in the chair and placing a hand on the arm. When Tom didn't move she looked up at him impatiently.

"Are we moving this side of Christmas?"

"Not with you sitting like that, we're not." Tom replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Fine." Sam grumbled, straightening her back and placing her hands on her lap. "Better?"

"Physically, yes." Tom replied before setting off down the corridor.

Sam thought about asking what he meant by that, but it was obvious. Even she knew she was acting like a brat. That and the fact she had ten years of memories still missing.

They passed by several doors with long queues stretching from them, and though Sam couldn't see the name on the door she assumed these roomed contained the sought after scanners that were dotted around the hospital.

Luckily Tom didn't take her in any lifts, though she did whizz by a few and cringed at every one. They stopped near some double doors that led out onto a balcony which looked over the vast car park.

It was the middle of summer, and even in the evening there was no need for a jacket for it was easily above 20 degrees Celsius. Tom parked her as close to the metal fencing that ran around them as he could without bashing her knees. She placed her hand on the metal and looked out over the car park at the many fluorescent vehicles that she assumed to be ambulances.

"They look different." She commented, staring at the tiny men and women, also in fluorescent colours, who were bringing patients strapped to beds into the hospital.

"I suppose they do. If I remember rightly they were white back then." Tom replied, following her gaze.

"Yeah… back then." Sam repeated as her face fell.

"Do you know what made you want to become a doctor?" Tom asked casually.

"I think... I probably wanted to follow in my mother's footsteps. She was a nurse a long time ago… then again a long time ago ten years ago is nearly ancient now." Sam said with a slight smile.

"I guess it is."

"There is no way in hell I would become an army doctor." Sam said flatly.

"But... You did. Why not?" Tom asked, making Sam's frown deepen.

"I… My father was a solder. He died." Sam said, washing as much emotion as she could out of her voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." Sam muttered as she pretended to be fascinated with a particular building in the distance. "My mother made me and my brother both swear that we wouldn't tread in the footsteps of him. She was never really the same after he died."

"How do you mean?"

"She... Was depressed…and…" Sam said slowly, her brow furrowed.

"Sam?"

Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could see images of a frail woman flashing through her mind, a woman the resembled her mother but couldn't be. Her skin was a pasty yellow colour, and it was stretched over her once beautiful face. Sam could feel her frail hand in her own, so weak it felt as though it could snap at the slightest touch.

The heart rate monitor was beeping at a slower and slower rate until the point where the frail woman let go of Sam's hand entirely and flat lined.

"She had liver cancer. She died seven years ago." Sam said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Seven years ago?"

…

I love how three of you are now saying this would be better as a Sam/Dylan story… Sorry guys but I can't please everyone!

Thanks a lot for continuing to read Explosions!

I will try an update again in the next couple of days and I am updating Haunted tomorrow morning with its second to last chapter.