Richard's consciousness floated above his body. Unfocused and blurry, his surroundings seemed awfully white and sterile. The bed his body was laid in had a thin blanket covering shriveled legs. Were those truly his legs? Despite the blur, his arms also seemed emaciated. A tube ran from them to a bag that hung from a metal pole. Was this... a hospital?

Around his body, other people were huddled around him, holding each other for comfort. One in particular stuck out to him, a dark haired woman with a kid clinging to her jeans. Was that... his wife? He remembered Danna. A strong woman... stronger than him for sure, but why was she crying? His mind was having trouble keeping all the elements in his head together. His body, a hospital, and his wife. How did he get here?

"Danna, it's time." The voice came to Richard in a distorted echo as though through a sheet of water, but he recognized his father's voice. He felt some hatred there. His father had always been the pressure that had pushed him into an unwanted profession.

"I know... I just... As soon as I sign those papers, he's really gone. Are we really just supposed to move on?"

"The hope is infinitesimal if a coma goes beyond a month. It's been almost a whole year now."

"But it's not impossible! It could happen!" He could hear the strength in his wife's voice and while he didn't quite understand the conversation, he silently cheered for her. Fight, my love! My father's wishes aren't absolute!

"Danna... I'm sorry." Silence reigned after his father's comment and Richard could practically sense the inevitability in his countenance. The one that disproved any notion that what he thought could be wrong. There was only an overwhelming truth. A light sob was the only indicator that his wife had broken like he himself had so many times before. Richard tried to comfort her or help her rally, but no words seemed to come from his mouth. His hands never seemed to move closer to her.

"Let me... let me just have a moment with him alone."

His father nodded and then motioned to the other people in the room. As they left, Richard recognized each of them. His mother. His siblings. Even his best friend Luke. As each of them passed Danna, they provided her a comforting hand or a warm smile. His mother grasped the hand of his son from the side of Danna's jeans and led him out of the room. He had a kid! Noah. He'd only been... two? Yet, he was already walking around on his own. Wow, how had he grown so fast?

After everyone left, Danna sat in the off-teal chair and leaned over the bed. Not as dramatically as his own, but her own arms looked much thinner than he'd ever remembered. She'd always loved the post baby weight, but this was even thinner than she'd been before the pregnancy. What had caused such an extreme change? She took one of her hands in his, running her thumb over the veins and bones that stood out starkly on his flesh.

"Babe... I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet. A whisper intended just for him, but he could barely make it out through the echo. Some part of him understood how important this was and he desperately wanted to hear more. He strained his mind, forcing it to center in on her words. "I didn't realize how hard things had been on you. I thought... I thought we were happy. Why couldn't you have just told me?" She choked up like she was about to break out into tears, but instead, she took a deep breath and gathered up her considerable strength. "I'm sorry. That's not fair. If I was a good partner, I'd have realized how you felt. I'd have done something... Anything."

She took another deep breath, gazing deep into his sleeping face. Richard remembered when she'd first asked him out. She'd plopped down on the bench he'd been reading on at their University and interrogated him about his major, his interests, and everything. Afterwards, she'd simply declared that they'd go on a date. It wasn't the harsh demands like his father, but a flirty strength that dared him to say no. How could he? She'd taken his breath away.

"But... it's too late now." A stark sense of wrongness swept over him. The iron will that he'd admired was crumbling before his eyes. What could have happened that would make her feel so? Richard reached out for her, but again, his limbs wouldn't move. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her that whatever had happened that it wasn't her fault. Pulling a deep strength from within himself, he strained. He demanded that his body do something. Anything that would provide her some sense of comfort. He pushed and pushed until...

His hand squeezed hers. For just a moment, he squeezed her hand and her eyes lit up. Hope blossomed on her face and Richard knew that he'd finally reached her. He'd finally made things better. The world blurred as the effort required caused exhaustion to wash over. He couldn't quite remember where he was or what he'd been doing, but he found a sense of solace as he fell asleep. The last words he heard echoed through the space.

"He's still alive! He's still alive!"