A/N: So very sorry for the long wait, I certainly hope that my few readers and the even fewer Profiler readers enjoy this new chapter!

Two days had passed without any reassuring news about John's condition, the only news from the doctors being anything and everything that registered false hope.

Bailey looked at his large hands with a heavy heart, scared for his youngest agent even more now that he had lapsed into a coma over the first night. From what Grace managed to see, having had her access to John limited, she made it clear that John had managed to get an infection despite all the antibiotics they doped him up on.

Bailey scratched at the dark stubble that had accumulated over the few days, exhausted and drained. His dark brown eyes stared at the tiled floor blankly, his broad shoulders slumped.

He looked up briefly, slightly startled when he realized that he had company. Sam looked back at him intently, tears gathered in her blue eyes. She walked over quickly, her coat clutched in her slender hands.

"Oh, Bailey…" she whispered, sitting next to him on the nearest plastic chair. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him as tightly as she could.

After a few moments, Bailey pulled away and forced a smile. He swiped at a few tears that pricked the corners of his eyes, "Thanks Sammy."

Sam nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She bit her bottom and waved a hand at the double doors, "Any news?"

Bailey scoffed and shook his head, "Nothing."

Sam nodded solemnly and sat stock still. She twisted her hands in her lap, her coat strewn across it carelessly. She finally looked up and placed a hand on Bailey's arm, "Go home, Bailey, get some rest."

Bailey began shaking his head in the negative before she finished her sentence, "I need to be here when he wakes."

Sam smiled ruefully and replied, "From the limited access we have with him, I highly doubt any one of us is going to be there at the exact moment he wakes, Bail."

Bailey paused and mulled it over, exhaustion winning over as he nodded slowly and grumbled, "Alright, two hours."




Bailey smiled and shook his head, "Deal."

Sam returned the expression, patting his arm gently as she said, "I'll give you a call if and when I hear anything, okay?"

Bailey sighed, "Okay, Sam."

Sam smiled once more, watching as the large man stood up and gathered his heavy coat. He ambled out, his head low to the ground and a hand shoved into his pocket. Sam shook her head slowly before settling herself onto the plastic chair.

Sam jolted awake when she heard a soft patter of footsteps heading her direction. She cleared her throat and looked up. A small woman smiled sheepishly and apologized for waking her as she did.

"I wanted to let you know that Agent Grant, although still in a coma, is doing better. If you'd like to see him, it might help in speeding up his recovery." The Nurse relayed.

Sam, choking back an angry reply, nodded slowly as she stood up. She paused and looked towards the exit, "Do you mind if I call my boss? He deserves to see John more than I do at this moment."

The Nurse frowned and shook her head, "Sorry, Doctor Waters. It's now, or not for a while…"

Sam heaved a sigh and shrugged, "Lead the way please."

A few minutes later the Nurse dropped Sam off at the door before taking off elsewhere. Sam frowned in the lady's direction before stepping forward into the room hesitantly. She clutched her coat tightly, never having really let go of it since her arrival at the hospital.

She closed the door behind her softly before she called out in a meek whisper, "Hi John. It's Sam…just checking up on you…"

There was no movement from John, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. She inched closer, shuddering at the machines as they pumped and beeped randomly. She sat herself in a chair close to his side and finally looked at him closely.

John's face was milky white in color, he had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his pink lips were dry and cracked. Sam inspected further, noting the greasy sheen of his pale skin and his dark brown hair. She flinched when the scent of him hit her nose, finding herself apologizing aloud as though he could actually hear her.

Frustrated, Sam cursed. She laid her head against the cool mattress, her forehead pressed against his warm skin. "Damn it John, you better get better soon. Bailey's a wreck…George and Grace are burying themselves into their work, but they visit you every day…and me," Sam laughed harshly, "I miss the hell out of you. Your stupid jokes, your stupid smile, your stupid blue eyes…"

She closed her eyes, cloaked in darkness with her head pushed against the mattress.

"Who you callin' stupid?"

Sam jumped, her skin crawling. The voice was so familiar, so riveting…so raw, hoarse and raspy and low…so John.

Sam looked at his face intently, his eyes were closed and he looked as though he never move. She frowned and called out, "John?"

She received no response as she muttered, "And I'm hearing your stupid voice."

"Hey," Sam looked at him quickly, noticing the small smile on his handsome face, his eyes still closed.


John opened one eye and whispered, "Am I in Heaven?"

Sam felt tears running down her face freely as she clasped his clammy hand and choked, "John, thank God!"

John's small smile widened as he managed to say, "Yeah…thank God He created you."

Sam blushed as she bit back a sob. Finally she called out, "Nurse! Nurse he's awake!"

Two nurses came running, entering the room recklessly as they threw the door open. They halted when they saw John's slightly opened eyes. One nurse shook her head and told Sam, "Honey, it's common for people in comas to open their eyes."

Sam shook her head, annoyed. "No, he's awake! He's talking to me…John-"

John jumped slightly and murmured, "Stop yer yelling Sam…"

The nurse gasped and ran to his side, checking his pulse and placing her hands all over his body to give him a quick checkup. The second nurse ran to check his stats on the monitors. John gave Sam a barely noticeable smile as he whispered jokingly to the nurse, "Watch how you're handling me, babe. Only certain ladies can do what you're doing."

The nurse, finally doing something correct in Sam's unwritten book, laughed and patted him gently on the back. John looked over at the second nurse, "Can a guy get some water in this place or what?"

The nurse nodded and took off as John continued, looking at Sam intently, "How long have I been out? Feels like days."

Sam shifted uneasily as she responded, "Two days to be exact."

Sam had expected John to be upset or angered by the news, however he didn't bat an eye as he mumbled, "Okay."

Must be the drugs, Sam thought as she watched the nurse flash a bright penlight in John's eyes.

"John?" Sam suddenly called out, thinking of Bailey and the others.


"I'm going to step put, okay? I need to call Bailey and the others; they've been worried sick about you."

John didn't respond as he mumbled something incoherently. Sam sighed and quickly whipped her cell phone out, dialing the number for Bailey as quickly as possible. As soon as she reached the hallway, she was breathlessly telling Bailey that John had awakened. When she concluded her conversation with Bailey, she noted how quickly he answered his phone.

Poor man couldn't sleep.

John opened a blue eye lazily when he heard Sam returning. "How are you, Sam?"

Sam laughed, "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

John squinted, "Depends…I've slept for at least two and a half days…and you look like you haven't slept in two and a half days…"

Sam sighed, "I don't think I have…really."

Now it was John who signed, he closed his eyes as he moaned, "Sa-am…"

"You shouldn't be complaining, Grant...you should be sleeping." Sam stated, moving to his side.

"I think I've slept enough," he grunted, before adding, "Besides, what kinda of host would I be if I went to bed before Bailey is scheduled to appear?"

Sam laughed, "A tired, worn-out, wounded and sick host."

John winced, "I see your point."

Sam placed her hand on his arm and rubbed her thumb up and down, so used to doing it while he was sleeping. He looked down as best as he could at his arm and back at her, "You're not in the habit of touching people as they sleep, are you Sam? Because I personally think that's creepy," he joked, his voice still raw.

Sam pulled back and laughed nervously, "Sorry."

John shook his head slowly, "Don't be, it's comforting. I miss it…" he trailed off and looked away uncomfortably.

Sam cleared her throat, but placed her back and continued her soothing thumb rub. She sat down in the vacant chair she had left, her hand never leaving John's arm.

He smiled boyishly and thanked her, his voice soft and hoarse. He drifted off into a deep sleep, one that Sam prayed he would certainly wake from.


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