Trent and Sam had been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for three hours and when they call it a waiting room they really must have meant it. They'd been waiting in the cramped empty room for news on Sheldon Jeffrey Sands' condition for six hours.

"How much longer d'you reckon they'll be?" Trent asked.

"Well," his girlfriend replied. "When you've just had your eyes drilled out of your head and been shot full of holes a nap and a spoon of medicine just doesn't work."

"But what are they even doing, Sam? There's not much they can do, is there? Apart from patch up his eyes and pull a few bullets out but that can't take a full six hours."

"I dunno," she said. The two sat deep in thought for a few minutes until she said, "I'm starving. You fancy anything to eat?"

"Just get me a ham sandwich. I'm not very hungry." He rested his elbows on his knees as Sam stood up to leave. Just as she reached for the door handle, however, it opened, nearly hitting her in the face. A nurse with vibrant red frizzy hair and a thin smile marched through the door.

"You can go in to see him now," she informed them. "But I'm afraid you won't be able to talk to him. He's out cold and should be for another few hours, I should think."

She led them to a cubicle filled with the buzzing of electronic equipment measuring Sands' heartbeat. The man in question was lying unconscious in the bed, looking like some sort of sleeping robot with wires sticking out of his arms and chest. He was deathly pale and there were bandages over his eyes and one on his arm. Trent and Sam presumed there would be more where he was hit on his thighs. They took a seat in the chairs by the bed.

"He looks terrible," Sam whispered, clutching Trent's hand tightly. The pair were close to Sands'.

"Wouldn't you?" he breathed back. "D'you reckon he'll ever be able to see again?"

"I doubt it. The doc said the fuckers left no trace of his eyes. I dunno if he'll be able to get transplants, would he?"

"Not sure," her boyfriend shrugged. "He's going to be one pissed off guy when he gets up and keeps bumping into things. I doubt he's ever been dependent on anyone since he was a kid."

"I don't know. Remember what he was like with Nat?"

"That wasn't really dependent though. He was just one love sick puppy. Besides that ended four years ago."

"I guess. I suppose we'll have to take it as it comes."