For as long as she can possibly remember, Michael Brentwood (Scott Foley) has always been Amy's lifeline, the only person she can count on to heal her pain, not only emotionally but more importantly, physically. He's unbelievably kind, compassionate...
Amy stared out the passenger's side window of Andrew's 1968 Chevy Camaro as the sun began to set over Beverly Hills. She watched the passing stores, fast food restaurants and houses as he turned off of Santa Monica Boulevard and onto San Vicente, trying as she might to keep her eyes open, even as all the oxygen was beginning to make her sleepy. Was she supposed to be feeling like this? She had been partially tempted to ask him but instead, decided to let it go and let him drive, knowing his main focus was getting her to the hospital. It was probably the shower, showers always made her tired even long after she'd finished. Maybe it was all the hot water.
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"Stay with me, Amy. Just stay with me." Andrew insisted. "We're almost there, okay?"
She gently nodded her head but said nothing, her head rocking against the seat as he turned into the hospital parking lot, swerving by a couple cars leaving the lot and pulling his Camaro in front of the ambulance entrance seconds later. Shutting off the engine, he took his keys out, grabbed her chart and turned to get out of the car.
Amy moaned softly, blinking a few times as she lifted her head from the seat. Pulling the oxygen mask away from her face, she took a long look around at her surroundings. "We're here?" She asked groggily just before Andrew opened the passenger's side door.
"Look, I..." His voice trailed off as he exuded a frustrated sigh, "hey, what did I tell you?" Leaning inside the car, he took the oxygen mask and slapped it back on her face. "I wasn't kidding before, I'll super glue that damn thing to your face if I have to. Now I want you to wait here, okay? I'm going to get you a wheelchair."
She shook her head slowly, "no...I don't need a wheelchair." Pushing herself up to a seated position, she placed her hand on his shoulder to keep herself from bumping heads with him. They met eyes for one brief moment that, to her, felt more like an eternity, her heart skipping a beat as he gazed down at her and she gazed up into his deep, intense brown eyes. Bringing his hand to the mask on her face, he pulled it away and slowly began to lean in, his lips inching towards hers.
Her eyes fell shut, her heart pounding like a drum as their lips locked in a slow and tender kiss. She opened her mouth wider to deepen the kiss, her breath hitching in her throat as she pulled back a second later, looking down at her lap. "I...I think we should...probably go in now."
Andrew sighed softly in discouragement. "Yeah...probably. Grab your backpack, I'll get your IV and your O²." After tucking her chart under his right arm, he grabbed her oxygen tank and her IV.
Grabbing her backpack, she threw it over her right shoulder and turned to get out of the car, her heart still pounding from the kiss they had shared. Even her head started spinning all over again. Rising to her feet, she felt her knees buckle beneath her, causing Andrew to instantly drop the things in his arms and quickly reach out to steady her. Maybe that wheelchair wasn't such a bad idea.
"Whoa...you okay?" He asked gently, cocking his head to look intently at her face.
She slowly lifted her chin, looking up into his concerned gaze, her heart beating wildly and gently nodded her head. "Yeah...I'm okay."
