Everything

XLVI

"Hell, Spence, I'm talking about life. We've just got started - newlyweds, the world is our oyster. We've got so much to do, so much to achieve, so many experiences to have together, memories to make that don't involve me crying all over you. And the last eight years, I'm sorry, as amazing as they've been, they're just not enough for me. They can't be it.

"So you're going to wake up, do you hear me? Because I'm not done yet. We're not done yet. And you're certainly not done yet, not by a long shot. Got it?"

I laid my head on his bed, stroking my thumb over his knuckles, being careful of his cannula.

Time continued to speed on. And with each minute, my fear continued to swell.

"Come back to me, Spence, please." I whispered, "I love you so much. More than anything. More than all the world."

I allowed my eyes to flutter closed, the weight of the last 36 hours weighing heavy on my shoulders.

"How sappy, Rodriguez."

My eyes snapped open, my neck turning at such speed it could have broken. Spencer.

His eyes were rheumy, but as crystal clear blue as they'd always been, and he lifted his left hand, pulling down his oxygen mask to give me a small smile from the corner of his mouth.

Of course, I promptly burst into tears, sobs racking my exhausted body, as I clung to his arm tight, relishing the feel of the little, wispy blond hairs on his arm, his fingers curling around mine, his hand warm.

He'd come back. He'd come back to me. I almost wanted to pinch myself, to check I was actually hearing his voice, actually seeing his eyes open, blinking at me.

He was really here.

"Hey," he croaked, and I could feel his fingers stroking my hair, "What's all this? No tears, Adri, you know I can't--

He stopped mid-sentence, coughing hard, a sound rattling around in his windpipe.

Immediately, even through my tears, I got up, pulling the oxygen mask back over his mouth and nose so he could breathe again.

The relief was evident, and he closed his eyes for a moment, clearly savoring the help to his lungs.

Spencer's eyebrows drew together as he looked at me, "What happened?" I could hear him ask from behind his oxygen mask. He didn't remember?

"Spence, you were in an accident," I said, sniffing hard, "A truck driver ran a red and crossed over onto your side of the street. They said you couldn't have possibly seen it coming. Not from the angle you were hit from."

I heard him sigh, saw him close his eyes and then pull the oxygen mask down again.

"Well, I always did say you Yanks drive on the wrong side of the road." he said, sardonically.

"Spencer!" I exclaimed, outraged. Of course, he would have the time to make a joke about all this. Tears welled in my eyes again.

"Shh," he whispered, squeezing my hand tight, "I'm sorry. Please don't cry, sweetheart. I'm fine. I'm alright."

"I nearly lost you." I sobbed, "You nearly left me."

Spencer looked helpless. Sure, he was used to comforting me. In fact, I think he secretly relished the fact I relied on him for support so much. But he seemed overwhelmed by my emotion and unsure of what to do or say.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, do you hear me?" I said, "If I wasn't so relieved to see you awake, I'd so fight you right now, Haywood."

He smiled sadly, "No, you wouldn't."