I have no idea about medicine - my medical knowledge I got from Chicago Med and Grey's Anatomy ;-)

Chapter 5

Hank didn't know how he was supposed to feel at that moment. Actually, he should feel relief that Kim was awake. She was obviously fine. Except that she hadn't recognized him, Hank didn't know how to deal with that. But maybe, maybe it was just for a moment and he would be able to go right back into her room, Kim would smile at him and everything would be fine. He hoped so.

After Kim finally woke up, the hustle and bustle had really started. Doctors and nurses had entered the room. Tests were being done and Hank had to wait again.

At the moment, he stood leaning against the wall outside Kim's room, waiting for Dr Abrams and Dr Rhodes to finally come out to him. Oh, and give him some good news. He needed some good news.

"Well?" expectantly Hank looked at the two doctors when they finally stepped out of Kim's room.

"The incision looks fine and the pain level is within limits. We're continuing to give her antibiotics and pain meds. And we'll probably be able to discharge her in a week or so if everything stays the same and her condition doesn't worsen," Connor said, giving Hank some hope with his words.

Still, there was the other matter.

"And what about her memory? Why can't she remember?" Hank did not utter the word me. But that was what interested him the most. Why Kim didn't remember him, about him being more than her sergeant.

"Officer Burgess is suffering from retrograde amnesia. She cannot recall the events of the last 14 months at this time," Dr. Abrams then told Hank the truth.

Hank gulped. He hadn't expected those words. Fourteen months - that was longer than their relationship. Much longer than they were already happy together. So Kim knew nothing more from that time. From the time she was in a relationship with Hank. Was still having.

"But she'll be able to remember?" inquired Hank.

Connor and Dr. Abrams exchanged a look. There was no use sugarcoating the truth. Dr Abrams had always been one for straight words. And he would say the same to Hank Voight.

"In most cases, the amnesia goes away on its own after a few weeks or months."

Weeks. Months. Hank didn't want to comprehend the words. Not only had Kim forgotten who he was, but it would be a long time before she remembered what role he played in her life.

"But she'll be able to remember?" Hank clung to what little hope he had.

"Well, as I said, in most cases the amnesia goes away after a while. We have to wait and be patient. And we shouldn't push her to remember. Her memory has to come back on its own," Dr Abrams evaded a real answer this time.

"Do you think she'll remember?" asked Hank. He just had to know. If all of this would soon be over and that the days in which Kim could not remember him would be nothing but a bad memory.

Dr Abrams remained silent. But Hank had understood him anyway. He understood the meaning of his words. It might be that Kim would never be able to remember how much Hank loved her. How happy they both were together. I mean, he might just be her sergeant in the future, and not the man she was in a relationship with. And the only thing Hank would have left of a wonderful relationship would be the memories. Again.

For a moment, Hank felt as if the air was knocked out of him as he realized the extent of Dr. Abrams' words. Although this time he had not lost the woman he loved to death, he might still have lost her.

Everything would change. In fact, nothing would ever be the same again. Kim and him - only a beautiful memory - for him.

Hank steadied himself against the wall. Facing him were the two doctors' concerned gazes.

"Hank, I think-" Connor took a step toward him. He had a vague idea of how Hank must be feeling. Yet Hank shook his head. He didn't want to hear anything, not another word. He had to deal with the news first.

Hank had to get out of here. Away from the doctors, away from Kim, and away from the realization that he might have lost her. Maybe forever.

Hank turned on his heel and hurried through the corridors of Chicago Med, barely noticing what was happening around him. He'd probably bumped into a nurse or two on the way out. Nor had he heard what Connor had shouted after him. Only when he was sitting in his car, which Al had left for him in the parking lot, Hank slowly became aware of where he was. And what he had just heard.

Happiness and love had returned to his life, only now to slip away like sand between his fingers. It was as if there was a curse on his life. It was as if Hank was doomed to eternal loneliness and to experience only brief moments of happiness - only to lose it all again. That he kept losing the people he loved.

Camille. Justin. And now Kim.

Furious, Hank slammed his hand on the steering wheel before starting his car. He had to get out of here. Aimlessly, Hank drove through the streets of Chicago. He had no where to go. He didn't know which way he was going. He just had to get away. Away from the thoughts who threatened to overwhelm him. And from the pain he was feeling.

At some point, Hank stopped his car. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He had arrived at the silos. A place he knew all too well. In fact, he had already solved one problem or another here - so to speak.

Only this time, this place would not solve anything for him.

Slowly, Hank opened the car door and got out.

He paced back and forth in front of his car like a caged animal. Hank felt his emotions threaten to overwhelm. After all those hours at Kim's bedside when he had feared for her life, now was the moment when the feelings threatened to come to the surface like a wave. Hank wanted to scream, to punch something, to break something.

"Aaaahh," a scream escaped his throat finally.

Here at the silos, no one heard his anguished scream. No one heard him vent his anger, his fear. And eventually, and then after the screams there were the tears. Slowly they made their way down his cheeks. A dry sob escaped his throat.

Hank sank down on his knees in the sand and let the tears run free. He buried his face in his hands.

Why was it happening again? Why was he losing a loved one again? Hank wasn't sure if Kim would ever regain her memory. You know, her memory of Hank.

It was already late in the afternoon when Hank entered the precinct. Immediately Trudy Platt stepped out from behind her counter and approached him. Trudy wanted to know how Kim was doing. I mean, if Hank was here and not with Kim at Chicago Med, it could only mean one thing. In any case, she hoped it would be good news that had brought Hank back to the precinct.

"How's Burgess?" she inquired.

"She's awake," Hank replied curtly, and started to walk past her. Upstairs. To his team. He had to inform the team. About how Kim was doing. And about how she had forgotten everything.

"So she's fine," Trudy was relieved.

"The doctors have diagnosed retrograde amnesia," Hank added.

"What does that mean?"

Hank let his eyes wander around the room until he came to rest on the spot where Kim had been lying.

It seemed like an eternity, like another lifetime, when he had knelt on the floor yesterday, holding Kim's hand and praying that she would survive. So much had happened since yesterday. And Hank still hoped that it was all a bad dream.

"Hank," Trudy's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Mmmh?"

"What does that mean? Retrograde amnesia."

"Ki-, Burgess has lost her memories of the last few months."

Surprised, Trudy looked at him.

"The last few months? It's all gone?"

Hank nodded. It was still hard for Hank to admit that to himself. And also a little later, when he told the team about the news from the hospital he had a hard time realizing it.

Hank could feel Al's gaze on him. He guessed which question was on his best friend's mind the most. Barely noticeable, Hank shook his head. He didn't want to talk. Not now.

With his shoulders slumped, Hank walked into his office, where he let the door fall closed behind him with a bang. He wanted to be alone.

Hank sat at his desk and let his eyes wander around the room. There were things everywhere that reminded him of his relationship with Kim. The sofa in his office - they had made out on it like two teenagers. Would there ever be moments like this again? Or like yesterday morning when Kim had woken up in his bed?

After a moment's hesitation, Hank opened the top drawer of his desk, from which he pulled out a photograph. It was a photo of Kim and him - a selfie. They were both smiling happily at the camera.

"You can't have forgotten all about me. About us. I'm sure you remember me, you remember us, and you remember our love. Deep inside your heart, you know it, you know me," he whispered softly as he ran his fingertips over the photo.

Later that evening, Hank walked down the corridors of Chicago Med. He was going to see Kim. At least, that was his plan. But Hank hesitated before entering the room. He still couldn't believe it. Kim had forgotten about him!

When he opened the door and entered the room, he was relieved to find that Kim was alone. Oh, thank goodness for that. Hank had not wanted to run into anyone on the team. That would only have raised unnecessary questions. Questions he did not want to answer. Just like the questioning looks yesterday when he hadn't left Kim's side.

"Hello Kim," he greeted her.

"Hello Sarge."

Those were the two words that stung Hank's heart. They made it clear to Hank once again that Kim didn't know who he was. But Dr Abrams had said it would take time. Still, Hank had hoped that the last few hours had been just a bad dream.

Kim's eyes, meanwhile, fell on the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lily of the valley and yellow roses. Her favorite flowers.

She had never told anyone on the team about them - the last time she had been in the hospital, after a gunshot wound, the team had brought her tulips. And she had been given red roses, by Adam. So she was even more surprised that her sergeant brought her favorite flowers.

"These are my favorite flowers."

"I know," Hank said softly.

On their first date, he'd brought her yellow roses. More by accident, really. But the smile Kim had given him then. Hank had known he'd bought the right flowers. And since then, he had kept buying her favorite flowers. And he would continue to do so.

"You really can't remember?" he asked, sitting down on the chair by her bed. The chair was the one he had spent the previous night in.

Hank tried to hide the distress in his voice. He didn't want Kim to notice how much it hurt him that she couldn't remember anything. I mean not the kisses they had shared. All the nights they'd spent together. Oh, and the weekend at the cabin by the lake. Or their plan to go away for a few days - to Boston. Somewhere where they didn't have to hide, and could just be a happy couple. Ah, all that was gone, it seemed. Burst like a bubble.

To Kim, he was only her sergeant and no longer the man who had made her so happy over the past few months.

Kim shook her head.

It was as if the last few months had never existed.