The EMT took James' vitals in the back of the ambulance, as he desperately tried to fight them off, thrashing against the restraints, and even taking it so far as to threaten spitting at them, "shut the fuck up, James, this is your own goddamn fault. How could you be so stupid? How could you do this to me! You were supposed to love me! You promised me that you'd never leave me! And you did!"

The driver began talking over the radio to the hospital; "41-year-old male, overdosed on hydrocodone amount unknown, administration of Narcan twice, GCS of 15, BP 145 over 102, oxygen saturation at 93%, pulse 110, aggravated and combative with no other cognitive impairments yet noted, currently restrained for the safety of self and others, ETA 20 minutes,"

Greg hung his head down and started to cry, while it sounded relatively positive that James would make a full recovery, he just couldn't believe that James, his James, would do something like this, be this reckless and careless about his own life. Nearly abandoning him when he'd promised that he'd never do so. He looked out the back window and could see the headlights of Lisa's truck tailing them, thank God for Lisa, thank God that she saw him and realised what was going on, or this would be a very different outcome.

They arrived at the hospital and the EMTs pulled the infuriated James out on the stretcher into the hospital through the ambulance entrance; James was bucking, tugging and screaming; swearing loudly and without any inhibition at anyone who dared to venture too close or stare too long, and with the amount of noise and drama he was creating; it was of absolutely no shock to Greg that they were staring at him. "Here's your combative hydrocodone OD, you might want to have a spit hood on standby," Greg sat down next to James and stared blankly, feeling nothing inside. He felt numb, exhausted, and angry; and at this point he wasn't even sure how much he cared anymore; after what James had done.

Shortly after, a CNA lead Lisa through to the bed where James was in, and she saw James there; screaming, yelling and tugging at the restraints; screaming abuse at anyone who could hear him, but directing a lot of it towards Greg- who just looked numb and sad, he was just completely defeated. Lisa pulled up a chair and sat down next to Greg; "how are you holding up?"

He chuckled darkly, "I'm not. I'm absolutely heartbroken that he'd do this to me," Greg shook his head with a deep, shaking sigh; "I'm questioning our entire relationship now, he promised me that he'd never do something so stupid, he promised me that he'd never abandon me, he promised me that he'd always be there for me, he'd never leave… and yet, he tried to. If it wasn't for you then he wouldn't even be here anymore. I just don't feel like I can trust him anymore," tears began to shed down Greg's cheeks as he looked at James, who had now completely exhausted himself; and was laying back, breathing deeply.

"Don't do anything rash, Greg, he loves you. He has a really stupid way of expressing it right now, but James is sick, Greg, he didn't do this to hurt you, he did it because he is sick. He's unwell, and he's in the best place he can be right now. He's going to get some help here, and he'll be back to the James we know in no time. Don't make any emotional decisions based off a mistake he made, let's see how he recovers first, okay?" Lisa comforted.

They sat there for hours, James didn't lose consciousness again; and had quietened down significantly, and was actively and repetitively begging Greg for forgiveness, that he was sorry, that it was a dumb decision made in the heat of the moment to try and make himself feel better and he should've taken Greg's feelings into account before he did it. It went on and on. Greg had decided he'd forgiven James, as James had forgiven him when he'd done the same.

Blythe had called, Greg had just told her that James became sick in the morning, so they were at hospital, but not to worry about anything, as he was doing well.

Eventually, a rotund man in a doctor's coat entered the little space they'd sectioned off with the hospital curtains to stop anyone from peaking in and aggravating James further and causing him to become aggravated and combative again. "Hello, I'm Dr Michaels," the man introduced himself, "I'm one of the psychiatrists at the hospital," Dr Michaels looked down at the man he'd been informed was James, a middle aged, combative, restrained, opioid overdose patient.

James was a rather handsome man, he had dark chocolate coloured brooding eyes that he was glaring darkly at Dr Michaels through, long, slightly shaggy, very thick dark brown hair, he was tall, appeared to be quite strong, and was a little bit overweight, but not excessively so.

Dr Michaels also took note of the two worn out and exhausted people in chairs by James' bedside; there was an extremely tall, slightly slim man with piercingly blue eyes that just had an air of defeat about them, and loose, short thin brown curls, there was a cane leaning up against the wall, there was also a woman with long curly black hair, grey eyes, average height and build, and a look of pure exhaustion.

"James," Dr Michaels began.

"That's Dr. Wilson to you," the man in the bed snarled, tugging uselessly on one of his arms, and the man in the chair sighed in deep sadness and utter exhaustion, physically, emotionally, and mentally it seemed.

"Dr, Wilson, hey? Well why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, Dr Wilson? What area of medicine do you work in?" Dr Michaels pulled over another chair and sat down so that he and James were about at an equal eye height and opened his clipboard and grabbed a pen from his pocket to start writing notes.

"I'm an oncologist," James muttered, "can you take these things off me, please?" indicating to the restraints around his wrists and ankles.

"I'm sorry James, not yet, we'll get to know each other a bit first and then we can talk about maybe taking them off," Dr Michaels placated, "you're an oncologist, that's a very demanding, emotionally taxing job," to which James just nodded, "do you live around here, James?"

"No, we live in New Jersey, we're over here for a family event for my partner," he muttered, "please, can't you just loosen them?"

"Maybe after our talk. Tell me about your partner, James, what's your relationship like?"

"He's just over there, why don't you ask him yourself?" James muttered, indicating towards the exhausted man sitting on the chair by his bed, "he's amazing. We've been best friends for over 20 years, and since we've been in a relationship, we've never been happier. I can't imagine life without him. He's my person, he always has been and always will be. I want to get married and spend the rest of my life with him," James mumbled.

"James is there a history of mental illness in your family?" the doctor questioned.

"My brother is a schizophrenic," James whispered, realising that he was essentially incriminating himself here, "but… he's been sick for a very long time, and I don't have any of the symptoms. I was just stressed about this family event we're at, my partner, Greg, his family are very cruel, awful people- and he takes hydrocodone every day for an injury. After dealing with all the stress, I just took some pills last night… it was a temporary lapse in judgement, that's all,"

The doctor nodded, "do you have a history of suicide attempts or suicidal thoughts? Thoughts of hurting yourself? Or of hurting others?"

"No," James lied.

Greg finally spoke up, "actually yes; James, you were threatening to kill yourself the other day by saying you'd run into traffic on the highway. You terrified both me and Lisa, I thought you were going to kill yourself then, and I thought you had killed yourself this morning. The only reason you're still here is because Lisa woke up and found you. You need to get some help,"

Dr Michaels scribbled something down in his pad, and James sighed and flopped back on the bed in frustration. "Okay, James," Dr Michaels began, "I think we're going to need to keep you here for just a couple of days and monitor you, we just need to make sure that you're healthy before we let you back out and that you won't hurt yourself. We just want to make sure that you're safe,"

"You're putting me on a psych hold?" James roared, bucking the restraints again, but once again, they didn't budge, and he flopped back onto the bed.

"You'll only be here for 48 hours, maybe 72. That's only two or three days, James. It's for your own safety," Dr Michaels continued, "we've just had a bed open upstairs, and we'll move you over now. The sooner we get you sorted, the sooner you can go home,"

James looked between Greg and Lisa in a panic, "stop him!" he cried out, "I can't go! I need to protect you both! You're not going to be safe there with those people there without me!"

Greg shook his head, tears filling his eyes, "no, James, you need to stay here, it's only for a couple of days. You know as well as I do that we have to make sure that all the Vicodin and any effects of this morning get out of your system. If things were different then I'd have a different opinion, you know that, but I thought you had died, James, we both did. We can't have that again," Greg dropped his voice even lower, "I thought I'd lost you, baby, and I can't risk that again, I just can't," his voice cracking from tears welling up.

"Lisa?" James begged, knowing now that he was clutching at straws.

Lisa just shook her head, "I agree with Greg, James. We need to make sure that you're healthy before you can come home. If you broke your leg then you'd need to stay here too, this is the same. We need to get you some support, and then we'll work on getting you into therapy when we get home, okay? We're not going to stay back at the house until you get out, we'll stay in Aberdeen, so you don't have to worry about us, okay? Just worry about getting better,"

"I love you," James whimpered, trembling, staring deep into Greg's eyes.

"I love you too, James, which is why we have to do this, because I want us to grow old together and be a couple of old men together, but we need to get you well first, okay?" he walked over and gently kissed James on the lips, lingering for a few more seconds before Lisa gently lead him out and to the parking lot and her waiting truck, as he wiped away his tears, and then just broke down sobbing the second he was in the truck, as Lisa leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and broke down.