My whole body is one giant mass of pain. All I feel is throbbing, burning pain. I'm afraid to try to move anything. Tears slip through my closed eyes and burn hot trails down my face. It even hurts to cry. Every muscle in my body is aching and my chest protests with every shaky breath I manage to pull in. I must be dead. A small part of me knows that angels can't die, at least not Righteous ones, not in a car accident, but this must be death.

Slowly, so slowly my senses return to me and my mind can grasp onto something other than pain. Voices. They start out soft as my ears start to reconnect with my brain. But they become louder, clearer, as I lay here in pain. Am I laying down? I can't tell. I can't feel a ground, all I feel is pain. I can't focus on that though, I need to focus on waking up. So I focus on the voices and listen.

"When do you think she will wake up?" A deep voice gruff with worry asks urgently.

"When she's ready. There's nothing more you can do for her. Let her rest. Let her heal." This voice was a kindly sounding woman.

"Why are you not more concerned about this? About her?" The deeper voice came again, sounding more irritated.

There's a huff of frustration. "And where would that put us? It's not that I'm not worried, I'm just staying calm. And working, like she would want us to do." The voices sound familiar. Why do they sound so familiar? "I'm going to go check on them, you'll be okay won't you?" The woman asks. I don't hear a response but I hear the woman leave. Then there's silence for so long I begin to wonder if the man left too. I feel utterly alone in this silence while my body is on fire with pain. I'm not usually scared and I don't usually cry but I can't control my body as it rebels against me and tears once again roll down my cheeks and my chest tightens in fear of being alone in this agony.

Then feather light touch of fingers brushing the tears from my face are soft and would be much more comforting if my skin didn't burn at the touch. "Wake up Seraph, please." The broken plea of the familiar voice breaks my heart and I fight to wake up even harder. Whoever the owner of the voice is they need me, need to know I'm okay. Am I okay? It's hard for me to tell, my body is still a giant mass of pain and I still can't move. And this voice, I know this voice. Who are they? What do they mean to me? My mind races but my body is still defiantly immobile. It's like my mind can't connect with my body and make it move. I'm powerless. This thought send a jolt of fear coursing through me. With barely a conscious thought I decide that I'm going to wake up of my own will. And the inner battle begins.

I gather my strength and fight against the stillness of my body. My mind conscious mind fights to regain control of my muscles. Each desperate word by the man encouraged me onward. I'm not going to let myself lose this battle, that is unacceptable. I listen to the man talk about me, about how we know each other, our past encounters and I take tight hold on his words and try to remember. He softly whispers story after story and pleas with my still form to wake up. He doesn't know I'm fighting it. He doesn't know I'm okay. He doesn't know I'm waking up. He doesn't know that he's helping me wake up.

His stories turn into flashes in my mind of people and places, a swirl of events and feelings. Gradually the images of memories becomes clearer and I can see details. This isn't just my mind visualizing his stories, I know in my heart it isn't. This whole time the pain is very very gradually ebbing away. Or at least it feels that way. I'm so focused on the memories that the pain falls into the background though it never fully disappears. As my mind grows strong I become more aware and my body becomes less numb and detached from my mind. I don't know how long I've been laying here unable to move, but I'm almost able to move. The more he talks to me the closer I get. I pull names from his stories and begin to match them to memories of faces. Then he tells me the story of how I ended up like this. I don't know how I know that, I just do. An accident, a terrible accident. I listen as his voice cracks and waivers and changes and I know he's trying not to cry. Why is he crying? I'm alive, I'm right here, I'm safe. Why is he crying?

I have to win this battle inside me. I have to wake up. There is no other option. With one final push I regain control of my body and let out a cry of victory. Really it's more of a cough than anything. This very quickly followed by a groan. My eyes struggle to open and I look at the startled face of Grey.

We stare at each other, I don't know how long it takes him to recover. I just wait silently, trying to control my breathing without betraying the pain that still courses through me like blood. Finally he regains his composure, "Seraph." His voice is barely a whisper but I hear it. I don't respond. I wait. Suddenly he reaches for me and wraps me in an embrace that, though it hurts like fire, is comforting. "I thought I lost you," comes the raspy whisper next to my ear. "Well you didn't. But you might if you don't stop squeezing me." He releases me and I'm dropped back onto whatever I've been laying on with a thud followed by a groan. "You've been asleep." He ignores my obvious discomfort at being dropped and continues. "It's been months. You're lucky you're not hurt worse. We did everything we could but that's not much."

He's not going to start blaming himself now is he? What happened wasn't his fault. And it's my job to take a hit when needed. Things like this happen, it's kind of in the job description. This couldn't have been helped. Wait, what did he say? Months? But it's only been hours, a day at most. There's no way. "Months?" I ask in a response whisper. He nods slowly, "The accident was three months ago." Three months? I've been out for three months? But how? Tony!

I didn't realize I'd spoken the last part out loud until Grey gives me a small smile, "He's fine. The human doctors were calling it a miracle that he wasn't hurt significantly. That's not the miracle. You're the miracle Seraph." I roll my eyes and grit my teeth against the pain that even that brings. How am I supposed to work like this? I can't move. I can't talk. I can't do my job. I can't protect Tony. There is nothing more scary for me now than not being able to do my job. I've come too far to turn back now. He must see the panic on my face because he quickly explains about Hope. I'm only slightly comforted. I don't trust anyone but myself to protect Tony, not even Grey.

"She's only here until you can return to work. I'm keeping and eye on her don't worry." But I can't help but worry. Not when their attention is divided between protecting him and caring for me. I have to get better. There's no other option.

"I see that look. Seraph there's nothing you can do. Just rest. Heal. Then you can go back to work. Slowly. Don't push it or you will only slide backwards in your recovery. Trust me kid, I know about these things." He doesn't explain. Which is fine with me, I'm not in the mood for stories. "Stop doing this to yourself and let yourself heal." There's a command in his voice. He's never ordered me around before. I'm not sure I want to find out what he's like if I don't listen to him. So I stay silent, determined to bide my time until I can win this argument. Though something tells me that's not likely to happen.