I sat up in bed and listened to the nurse tell me to take a deep breath and blow, as they took out the intubation.

Way better already, although my throat was hurting.

Sam handed me a cup of ice chips.
I took a mouthful and allowed the coldness to soothe my throat.

Ohhh, yes!

I think I moaned, actually.
Sam fake glared, and then winked at me cracking, "Hey now, ya betta watch that, girl!"

I normally adore ice anyway, I almost always have a cup nearby.
Everyone tells me I'm addicted to it, and I know I am.
It's common knowledge hospital ice is the best.

All things considered, I was already feeling better, but it coulda been the morphine they pushed in my IV port.

Whew, this stuff is powerful!

I need surgery to remove my spleen, am waiting for them to come prep me.
I wouldn't breathe normally, without pain, once I was off morphine.
I knew this from experience.

I look like I've been through the ringer.
My head ached almost constantly, my face hurt from the blow to it, I came very close to my jaw being wired shut.

Sam wasn't going to be getting any head because my jaw aches so much, even though that bums me out, I knew he wouldn't even think about touching me for quite awhile.

It was dick restriction out of necessity.

I would bear the bite mark on my neck for as long as I lived, I would see it every time I looked in the mirror.

All these scars I accumulated were proof of one thing.
I was stronger than what was meant to kill me.
I survived.

Once again my own personal demon had tried to end my life, and had failed.
I had to do something to ensure Tris never comes for me again.

I want to kill him, and if I ever get the chance to, I would see him dispatched to hell with the rest of his kind, personally!

I was essentially good hearted, but I have had enough of Tris and his antics.

Something in my face must have betrayed my heinous thoughts, because Sam came and sat next to me.
As gently as if he were handling lit dynamite, he cradled me.

He distracted me with his smile, once again making my heartbeat race.
The heart monitor I was still attached to started beeping, and I blushed up at him.

How embarrassing!

He smirked at me, and asked, "How often does that happen?" I responded, "EVERY time baby! You think that's weird, if you kiss me like you mean it, they'll a think I'm having a coronary!"

I wasn't kidding, whenever he was near me, my heart skipped beats.

"Heart attack, you mean right?" He said, knowledgeably.
"Yep, you do it every time you kiss me or touch me," I admitted to him.

He took his arm off of me, and stood up moving away, a scowl on his face.
The monitor went crazy because I panicked as he removed himself from me.

He looked at me astonished that happened.
It didn't surprise me at all.

He said wryly, "If go near you, your heart acts up, If go away from you, your heart acts up.
What the hell a brotha supposed to do?"
He asked me, as he threw up his arms in mock frustration, and I saw he really wanted me to answer.
I said "I don't know, but bring your ass right on back here, and hold me some more, unless you want me to keel over!"

He stood where he was another moment or two, then did as I asked.
He sat down again, my heart beat normally again.
He kissed the top of my head with so much tenderness, I teared up and just rested my head on him, breathing in his scent, closed my eyes, content.

They came to prep me for surgery and Sam looked markedly uncomfortable.
He told me he would be right here waiting for me to get back and said huskily, as they wheeled my bed out, "One Love, Day 1"
I was really drowsy, the medicine they'd given me while I was being prepared for surgery, taking effect.
All I could really do was give him my smile, and whisper back our endearment.
I closed my eyes as sleep overtook me.

Sam's POV

I was holding her hand, continuing my litany of prayers that I've been saying since I sat next to her on Sunday.
It was now Thursday, and she hadn't moved a muscle,her breathing slow and even, the heavy painkillers doing a good job of keeping her comfortable.

I hadn't left her side, unless it was to use the bathroom, or to go and smoke a cigarette.
Yeah I'd picked the bad habit back up, but who could blame me!
Nobody dared to come at me over it, as my mood was as black as the darkness outside her window, showing me another day was almost over.

I had barely spoken to anyone coming to see her, and most of them, knowing what I was like when my temper was ignited, didn't try to engage me in any way.

Visitors swarmed in and spoke to her, brought flowers and gifts, but there was no change.

The only people I was even remotely civil to were her mom, Fancee, Smythe, Daze and Akki.

I had sobbed like a baby when I saw my girls mom, who she looked almost exactly like, break down into tears.

I told her how sorry I was that it was all my fault, and she actually yelled at me, telling me not to do that, and say I was to blame.

She held my face in her hands and asked me, "How is what's happened, your fault? Did you beat her nearly to death?"

I shook my head slowly, saying with real emotion showing on my face,"I'd never put my hands on her!"

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, I smirked a little, because I could clearly see where Nikole gets her spunk from.
She rapped on my chest lightly, with the back of her knuckles, something her daughter has done to me on more than one occasion.
"That was a rhetorical question, son!" she said, with a little bite to her words.
"Don't blame yourself! She's going to pull through this! She's a fighter, and strong!
This is squarely the fault of that piece of shit she got tangled up with!
Like they say on that show Friends, you were on a break!"

I couldn't help but to laugh out loud at that, and Smythe's eyes met mine from overtop the magazine he was pretending to be engrossed in.

My brother has been my rock through this whole thing, even when I went silent, he was there in case I needed anything.

Merriment shone in his dark brown gaze.

Cathy, she is hilarious, Nikole takes after her, for sure.
Just what we all needed at this point, a little levity.

My brother loves my girl, albeit differently than I do.
It used to really drive me crazy with jealousy, but, when I saw how destroyed he is that she's clinging to life, and how he barely has left her side, I accepted it.
He had always been firmly in her corner, even when I was bidding and our bummy ass Uncle touched her, he had her back.
He only waited for my go ahead to knock his ass out, outta respect for me.
Honestly though, if I have told him to let it alone, I'd handle it when I hit bricks, I doubt he woulda listened.

Akki kept up a steady presence as well, posted up outside her door, coming in whenever either my brother or me had to step out.
Oddly enough, his devotion to her didn't bother me at all.
Ever since we had first started dealing with each other, he was basically her bodyguard, following her wherever she went when I couldn't be there to do that.
He was the only one of the crew with the balls enough to step to me over the way I treated her when I was booked, and I respected him for it.

I trusted him with her, so there ya go, I guess that do say it all!

Over the years they had gotten to be like family to each other, had a deep bond.
She loved him like a brother, and he loved her too.

He was always around us, every party we threw, the night I asked her to marry me, even there that next morning and knew she was going up to Graterford.
He also blamed himself for not talking me out of letting her go up there.

I didn't blame nobody but myself actually, even though Smythe told me, well everyone had told me, it wasn't my fault, I knew it was.
IF I had never treated her the way I did, IF I had never allowed my cellies main bitch visit me as a favor, and let her think the jawn was my side chick, she wouldn't have quit me and met him.
Although, I still didn't know how she could have thought that.
I couldn't ever cheat on her under any circumstance, not after what happened last time I had.
So now, I was left with regrets and my should have, could have, would haves.

My actions caused her reactions, and because I acted like a dickhead, I could very possibly lose her again, forever this time.
The very thought of that sobered my mirth, visiting hours ended, everyone left.

I took her hand again, allowed the sob I'd been holding in, to burst loose.
I closed my eyes, looking at all her injuries made me wanna kill, and I felt a squeeze to my hand.
My eyes flew open, going to her face, and she was staring at me with those beautiful grey eyes.

THANK GOD!
My girl was back in the land of the living.

I pushed the call button, got too worried she'd slip off again, couldn't wait for the call to be answered.
ran out into the hall.
I promptly collided with a cart, sending all manner of surgical implements flying.
I wasn't hurt at all, but I cursed my klutzy action.

I grabbed the nearest doctor and dragged him bodily into her room, found out that he wasn't even on her assigned team.

I was chagrined, and Nik's was in hysterics at me, almost falling over laughing, while intubated.
"Real fuuunnnyyyy, girl" I told her, rolling my eyes at her for a change, but I wasn't mad, or even mildly pissed.
I was probably the lightest hearted I had been since I recieved that phone call.
I got another chance with her, God answered my prayers.

The correct team came swarming in, and she got the care she needed, and extubated swiftly.

While they were working on her, I went and got her a big cup of ice knowing her as I do, it would be the first thing she would want, well besides some love from me.
I haven't even touched her yet and honestly I'm afraid to.

I returned to her side, handed her the ice chips and mock glared at the moan she made as she swallowed.
Man, I had to get myself together, I'm actually jealous of ice!

I finally sat next to her, not really knowing for sure what had caused her eyes ice over like the way they did and took her into my arms.

Her heart raced enough that the monitor began an annoying incessant beep, and she confirmed it was me that made that happen.

I got up agitated, moving away from her, not wanting to make her literally have a heart attack.
I watched in amazement, as her heart and blood pressure both spiked.

I said something to make her giggle, and went back to sitting with her, kissed her head and waited for her to be taken to the surgical floor.

They finally came and took her, I told her in our way, that I love her.

While I wait for her return, I have nothing to do but think.

I already know what I want.

I want Tristan Wright's blood on my hands, his head under my boots!
I want to copy her every injury and exacerbate them, until he's gasping for his breath
Until he's to the very point of death and pleading for his life, and then stop, allow him to recover only to murder him slowly.
Torture seems the way to go here, don't y'all agree?
I chuckled somewhat maniacally, rubbed my hands together, and sat back plotting.