"Give her some room." The voice sounded familiar. Was that her mother talking? Ali didn't want to deal with her mother now. A thought scratched at the back of her mind, trying to burst through the darkness. There was something she needed to pay attention to. Something important.

Green eyes, blond hair, a furrowed brow of concern. Sam.

Her eyes popped open to find a circle of worried faces peering down at her, one of which was indeed her mother.

"Ali?" the older woman asked gently.

Sam's been in an accident.

"I'm fine, mother." The words automatic and very untrue. The arm of the chair she somehow found herself sitting in dug into her back. Ali pushed herself up and caught Nora's eye where she stood by the door, phone still in hand. It all came rushing back. Nora, Sam's mother, the phone.

Ali lunged for it. "Evelyn?"

"Oh, thank goodness." Sam's mother's voice sounded odd on the other end of the line, its usual lightness missing. "It's Sam. There was an..." Evelyn's voice faltered. Ali heard her take a breath. "an accident."

"Is he..." She couldn't force herself to finish the question, even allow the words to be spoken. A pain stabbed at her chest as her heart tried to break free. It couldn't be real. She's spoken with him only a half an hour ago, teasing him to hurry and get here. Another stab. Was this her fault? Had Sam been in an accident because he was rushing to be there for her?

"I don't know... I." Another pause. "The car... They airlifted him to the hospital... unconscious. Christopher's on the phone with the doctors now, but they aren't saying much. Oh Ali, this can't be happening again."

"Where, Evelyn? Where is he?" Ali interrupted, refusing to follow Evelyn's train of thought. Sam was not Thomas.

"Belmont Hospital."

She closed her eyes. "Ok. I'm headed there. I'll call as soon as I see him." Because nothing would keep her from getting to Sam.

"Thank you, Ali," whispered Evelyn.

"He's going to be alright." He has to be.

"Yes." The pain in her soon to be mother-in-law's voice betrayed her words.

"I'm leaving now." She didn't wait for Evelyn's response, just hung up the phone. Everyone in the room stared at her. She didn't care. Needed to get to Sam. Where were her car keys?

Scanning the room, she frantically looked for her purse. Her eyes spotted it on the credenza at the back of the room where she'd left it before her world crashed down around her. It was a heavy piece of furniture Lester made specifically to fit this room. He'd let her help design it, not really much of a task as it was rectangular and functional in essence, yet still it meant the world to her to be part of the process. The day they'd carried it in here, her father had been proud and pleased. Her father... who died in a hospital, alone.

Ali shook her head to clear it. Ran towards her purse, snatched it up and turning to leave, slammed into a wall of muscle.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack demanded. A hand on her arm tried to stop her motion.

Before Ali's brain could spit out an answer, Lynn slapped Jack's hand off her arm and pushed him out of the way. "To the hospital, of course." She grabbed Ali and pulled her around the man.

"We're in the middle of an important board meeting. You can't just leave."

"Watch us." Ali heard her mother say as pressure on her back propelled her down the hall, leaving the room and its expectant board members behind.

Jack may have responded with "You'll regret this-" but she wasn't sure and didn't give it another thought. All her focus on Sam. Get to the hospital and... well... she just had to get to the hospital. She'd deal with the rest once there. The hospital was first.

No, first she had to find her car keys. She dug around in her purse, her hands finally grasping the key chain to the rental car. Pain exploded in her right shoulder as she clipped the wall, not paying attention to her trajectory.

"Give me those."

She turned toward the voice. Her mother stood there with her hand extended, fingers wiggling. This confused Ali. She didn't have time for her mother's antics. Sam. She had to get to Sam.

Lynn's voice commanded. "You're in no condition to drive."

"Mother, don't. I have to-"

"I know Ali. I'm driving." If she'd had any brainpower left, she'd be dumbfounded. Was her mother trying to help? "You can't drive like this."

"I..." Ali began to protest. But her mother was right. She couldn't think straight. Visions of Sam injured, cut and bleeding or worse kept filtering through her mind, merging with the last images of her father, lying helpless in a hospital bed, hooked up to a machine metering out his heartbeat in little staccato beeps. Tears pricked at her eyes.

Sam, getting to him, finding him safe was a priority and if she got in an accident herself, that wouldn't help things. Casting her eyes to the parking lot, she considered calling a taxi. But that would take forever. She had to leave now.

"Give me the keys, Ali. I'll get you to Sam." Her mother's words snapped her out of her reverie. Lynn was her best option. She tossed the keys to her mother. The older woman took Ali by the hand, led her to the car, put her in the passenger's seat, ran around the car and jumped in herself.

Thus began the longest car ride of Ali's life. The sound of the engine as it roared to life, the squeal of the tires as her mother pealed out of the parking lot, all muted by the pounding in her ears. A lump in her throat threatened to emerge as a sob. She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands to try to keep her composure. Repeated the words, Sam will be okay, everything will be okay, over and over like a mantra to the beat of the song on the radio.

Every red light chipped away at her resolve. What if he was dying? Or worse, dead? They merged on to the freeway and the car had to slow for traffic. They hadn't had enough time. She hadn't had the chance to tell him. A tear escaped. She ran her hands into her hair and pulled it, trying not to cry. But it didn't work. Another tear fell, followed by another and another. They wouldn't stop.

Two years ago, the brick wall she'd built around herself would have protected her heart today. Lonely and separated from the world, she'd lured a handsome pool boy into her cabana with an emotionless exchange in mind. Instead, she met the man who changed her life, bringing her out of the shadows and into the sun, showing her how to live again.

Patiently, with care and compassion, Sam dismantled that wall, brick by brick, earning her trust, exposing her heart. She'd emerged from her safe space with the knowledge Sam wouldn't hurt her, entrusting him with the squishy organ because he loved her. Because of him, she'd let herself feel again, let herself love. Because she loved him. And it was worth every moment, every emotion set free, every beat of that heart in sync with Sam.

What if Sam's heart stopped beating? Would hers? She thought it might. The world blurred before her; emotion poured out of her in a torrent of tears.

A pressure on her arm, her mother pulling her hand from her hair. She took Ali's hand in hers and squeezed. "You need to be strong now."

Her words had the opposite effect. Sam had convinced her the reward of experiencing emotions was worth the risk. And with him it had been, his love everything to her. She basked in it. The reward of giving it back to him the best feeling in the world. But now, here in this car, the feeling of him being ripped away from her, losing that love, never having the chance to show him how much she loved him again seized her body. The floodgates opened further, a wail escaped her lips, and she didn't want to stop it. She wanted the world to wail with her, to fill with the fear gripping her whole body and soul.

"Ali," her mother's voice soft. "There's time for that later. Sam needs you."

This time her words struck a chord deep inside. So many times, Sam had been there for her, supporting her, showing strength for her. He held her hand in moments of darkness, he stood beside her against evil, he believed in her, he trusted her, never ever giving in, or giving up. Now it was her turn.

Squeezing her mother's hand back, she staved off the next sob, took a deep breath, then another, then another. The warmth of her mother's hand helped. The tears slowed. Within minutes she'd forced them to stop, regaining most of her composure. When she could manage the words, she looked over at her mother. "Drive faster."

The scenery outside blurred as the car accelerate.

Hey all. D. L. Croisette here. I'm getting a little emotional myself here.  How about you?