It had been along night. Sami was fast asleep on Sam's bed, her little face still streaked with tears. The moonlight fell on her, making her seem to glow with a soft light. Her hair fell around her face like a halo. Sami's small hand was curled into a little fist next to her mouth.
Her father, Sam Guthrie, sat in the chair next to his bed, watching his little girl sleep. It was the first time he had every watched this particular phenomenon that parents so love. He was beginning to see why his own parents had watched him until well on into his teens.
Sami made a small noise in her sleep, shifted just a bit. Sam was already on his feet and moving to check on her before it was over. It was nothing though, Sami was merely stirring in her sleep.
Sam settled back down in his seat and began to watch his young daughter sleep again. This time however, he was struck by his daughter's resemblance to her…mother.
"Tabitha." Sam breathed the name of the woman he loved, shutting his eyes tightly.
She was lying as still as death in the infirmary, with Hank McCoy and Cecelia Reyes watching over her. They had told Sam that if she lived through the night, then there was a very good chance that she would recover. 'If' she lived through the night. It was a big if.
Sam didn't know what to do. Should he wait to tell Sami that her mother may die, or should he warn her now? How do you tell a three-year-old that her mother might die?
Sam looked over at the clock, his eyes blurring. He thought it read three-thirty one, though, with the lack of sleep he had gotten over the last few days, he couldn't be sure.
Suddenly, a loud beep from his com. unit startled him out of his sleep-deprived stupor. Shaking his head to clear it, Sam rose quickly to answer it, before the piercing noise could wake Sami.
"What's up?" Sam whispered into the intercom.
"Sam, Tabitha woke up." Dr. Cecelia Reyes voice rang out over the intercom.
"Thank God." Sam sighed, relief flooding through him. Cecelia's next words brought that to a crushing stop.
"It might not be a good thing Sam. She wants to see you."
"What about Sami?"
"Bring her too."
"Alright."
Sam stepped away from the intercom and walked toward his bed. Sami was still fast asleep, her little face serene. Sam looked down at her for a long second, then bent to left her into his arms. Carrying her wrapped in one of his old flannel shirts, Sam walked toward the infirmary.
***
Tabitha lay in the same place she had when Sam had brought her in, a massive gunshot wound in her chest. Several white bandages were wrapped around the gaping hole, and several machines were hooked up around her. The only change was the fact that her eyes were open.
Sam stood in the doorway, shifting his daughter around a bit more to make her as comfortable as possible. Taking a deep breath, Sam stepped into the sterile room, his darting back and forth. Places like this always made him nervous.
"Sam?" A hoarse voice barely croaked.
"Tabitha!" Sam whispered joyously, taking a step to the bed that Tabitha lay in.
"Sami?" Tabitha asked in the same hoarse voice.
"She's fine sweetie, she's right here." Sam assured the mother of his child.
Tabitha nodded, and reached out for his hand. He squeezed it firmly, his eyes already wet with tears. Tabitha's hand was weak and cold, but still as soft as he remembered.
"I'm scared Sam." Tabitha whispered, her eyes round.
"Don't be, darling. You're going to be fine. Just fi--" Sam's voice broke with is last word. Hurriedly he tried to cover it up, pulling Tabitha's hand up to his mouth and kissing it softly.
Through all of this, Sami had best resting peacefully on her father's shoulder. Suddenly her little head popped up, and she looked around tiredly, rubbing her eyes with her fists.
"Daddy, where are we?" She asked, her little mouth stretching in a yawn. The she noticed her mother, pale and shaken in the bed next to her. "Momma! Momma what's wrong?"
"Nothing, baby. Nothing's wrong." Tabitha whispered, gasping softly. Sami's little face clouded as she stared at her mother. She turned back to her father and looked at him with insistent blue eyes.
"Daddy, what's wrong with Mommy?"
Sam turned to look Tabitha in the eye, not really sure how much he should tell his daughter. But Tabitha's eyes had slipped shut, and her breathing had gotten a little shallower.
"Tabitha?" He asked, setting Sami down on one of the beds. "Tabitha?"
Her breathing was indeed slowing down. As was her heart rate, as the heart monitor that she was hooked up to attested to. Sam's hand shook as he jabbed the button that would call the doctors in from the other room.
"Hank! Cecilia! Get in here! Somethin's wrong…Tabitha's breathin's slowed down!"
Not two minutes since those words had passed his lips then the two doctors came running in the door, already in scrubs. They pushed past Sam to Tabitha and quickly began to check her over.
"Blood pressures dropping Hank." Cecilia reported.
"As is heart rate." Hank boomed, looking toward the monitor.
"Damn." Dr. Reyes muttered under her breath.
"Samuel, you and Samantha need to leave." Hank instructed.
Sam didn't say anything, simply nodded and reached to swing Sami up into his arms. Sami's face was wet with tears and confusion as her father hustled out the door.
As the door swung shut, a long steady beep filled the air like a banshee's scream.