A thick silence falls upon the room, the only sound being the uneven inhalations of our breaths. His expression falls, his eyes widening as he comprehends what he just heard. His fingers twitch by his sides, his shoulders falling as his eyes search my face; looking for something that I don't understand.

"Oh." He says unintelligently, still staring at me vacantly.

I lean my head back, frowning as the pain in my head only increases. I can't stand to ruin our moment; the one we've apparently been waiting years for but the pain is becoming almost unbearable.

"You're...in love with me?" He asks tentatively and I smile lopsidedly. Sam is such a romantic.

"Yes. Agonisingly so." I admit. Outwardly, I'm taking his silence pretty well but internally I'm a wailing, melting mess. I try to remind myself of Robin's confidence in us, of Robin's confidence in Sam's affection but no one can be sure, not until it happens.

"How long?" He asks quietly, looking at his hands now.

"I'm not sure." I answer honestly and he nods. My eyebrows pinch together, my fists clenching the sheets as best I can as a new wave of pain washes over me. I try to focus on Sam, memorising his features and taking comfort in his company.

He glances up and notices my discomfort almost immediately.

"Elias? What's wrong? Is it your head?" He asks, flitting forwards as his hand grazes against my forehead. He reaches over to my call button but I stop him.

"No, not yet. The drugs make me loopy and I want to remember this." I grit out between clenched teeth. Sam sighs, frowning at me.

"You're in pain, this is ridiculous." He mutters, reaching round me again as I bat his hand away.

"No, please." I say, so softly that he almost doesn't hear me. He withdraws his hand, falling into the chair beside me again in defeat. He drops his head into his open hands and I feel very guilty, not exactly sure what I'm expecting of him.

He's had so much information dumped on him today and I know that if the roles were reversed, I wouldn't know what to say. His trust in me has ultimately been shaken and in hindsight, I probably could have chosen a better time and place to confess my love. Scratch that, I definitely could have.

Don't I pride myself on being a gentleman?

"I'm sorry for not telling you, but I don't regret protecting you. I never will and if you asked, I'd do it again." I murmur, watching as he shakes his head, lifting it to glare at me.

"Even though it almost killed you?" He asks venomously and I laugh to myself.

"An honourable way to go." I insist, my hands becoming clammy as I will my way through the pain. I've done it before and I can do it again.

Sam scoffs at my response but I'm not finished talking yet.

"I'm sorry for confessing how I feel." I continue and Sam glances up, his eyes wide and child-like.

"Did you not mean it?" He asks. I shake my head at the ridiculous idea.

"Of course I did, but this isn't the right time or place and I'm angry at myself that I didn't think it through." I say, wincing not at the pain this time but at how disappointed in myself I am.

Sam is silent again and I exhale shakily, my eyes closing as I struggle to manage the pain anymore. I figure that he hasn't got a response for me, or at least not one he wants me to hear so I reluctantly press the call button.

Sam frowns when a nurse enters, watching as I don't argue or deny his help. He administers more drugs, observing me with a disapproving look. My forehead is lined with perspiration, my teeth clenched together and grinding, it's no wonder that he's frowning.

"How long has he been like this?" He asks Sam.

"About ten minutes." Sam replies quickly and the nurse shakes his head.

"Don't let him do this again, he's in far more pain than he's letting on." He states, although his voice sounds quite far away.

"He's lying Sam, I'm fine." I say dreamily, my head drooping forwards slightly. I hear a giggling sound and it takes a moment for me to decipher that it's actually me laughing. Wow these drugs kick in fast.

"How long does he have? Before he's gone completely?" Sam asks urgently and the nurse shrugs, glancing at me warily.

"You don't have long." He mutters, leaving quickly and I tut as I watch him leave.

"Elias? Look at me." Sam says, tilting my chin towards him. Have his eyes always been so beautiful? I think so.

"I don't want you to regret this, it's killing me to know that you do because this is simultaneously the best and worst day of my life." He says quickly and I nod.

"You deserve better." I mumble and Sam smiles.

"I couldn't find better if I tried. Believe me." He insists and I try to smile, my lips feeling very strange.

"Am I smile?" I ask as Sam laughs.

"Yes, Elias. It's the most beautiful thing in the world." He says but I shake my head, my gaze wandering without my permission.

"I disagree." I utter, watching him adoringly before my eyes flutter close, completely by accident.

_

When I wake up again the sun is just starting to crawl over the horizon. Beside me is a little note, in Sam's signature scrawl that informs me to call him as soon as possible. I don't remember an awful lot of the conversation that we had yesterday, but I remember the important bits.

My heart falls, tightening in my chest at the realisation that Sam never said a word in return. I let myself be vulnerable for once in my life and even though he hadn't outright rejected my affections, he in no way reciprocated them either.

How pathetic. I decide that, as a legal adult, there's no need to wait for someone to discharge me. I stayed through the night, but the night is very much over now and all I want is to get out of here.

But where would I go? I know that I have to face this situation with Sam at some point, but this is definitely not the outcome I had been hoping for. Right now, I want to hide from everyone. A doctor pokes his head round my door, surprised to see me awake and I beckon him in.

"How are we today, Mr Grey?" He asks, pulling off my chart to have a look.

"I'm fine. I was told that I would have to stay the night, but I'm pretty eager to get home so if I could have my discharge papers?" I ask wistfully and the doctor gets out a pen. He looks at my pupil dilation response and checks my tests, nodding to himself.

"Everything looks fine, we'll prescribe some painkillers to take home with you, but otherwise you'll be good as new in a few weeks. I'll go fetch your discharge papers." He says, tapping my cast before heading out of the room. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, thankful to stretch them out.

My doctor reappears with my papers and a familiar bag of mine.

"Your friend dropped these off yesterday, said you might want clothes to change into." He mumbles, handing me the pen to sign the papers.

"Okay, thanks." I mutter, signing as fast as possible and handing them back to him. He nods, bids me goodbye and gestures for me to change. All my belongings from when I fainted are in this bag, thankfully, which means I don't have to go searching for them.

I change as fast as possible, not caring about how bad I look. I slide my glasses on and gingerly stand up, groaning at the aches and pains in my limbs. It's tolerable and I slowly make my way down to the pharmacy to pick up my very much needed medication.

I hand the woman the slip, waiting for her to return as I lean against the counter. My phone has numerous messages, mainly from Sam and my dad but some from Sam's mum too. I slip my phone back into my pocket as I pick up my prescription, shoving it into my bag.

The walk home is something I don't think my body is ready for so I hop on a bus, getting unusual stares from middle-aged folk who're all sipping something vaguely caffeinated to stay awake. I get off and trudge over to our flat, opening the door as quietly as possible and sneaking up the stairs.

It's 6:15 am, so it's safe to say that Sam won't be awake for hours yet, but he will be pissed when he realises that I came home alone. I decide that I'll put off that awkward conversation for a while, deciding that a nap will be far more enjoyable.

I push open my bedroom door to find my bed already occupied and I roll my eyes. I smile at his haphazard appearance, his limbs strewn across my bed and I assume that he hasn't slept very soundly.

I shuffle out and into Sam's room instead, deciding that Sam's bed is better than no bed at all. I dump my bag, my eyes drooping as soon as my head hits the pillow.

When I open my eyes again, it's because my phone is ringing off the hook. I grumble to myself, deciding that I might as well answer if all they're going to do is keep incessantly calling.

"Hello?" I mumble, falling back into the pillows of Sam's bed.

"Where the HELL ARE YOU?!" Sam yells down the phone and I wince, checking the time and discovering it's past 10am.

"At home." I say, wondering where he is.

"Jesus Christ, Elias. I left a note, telling you to call me. Why didn't you call?!" He demands and I can hear the wind whistling from the other end of the line.

"I woke up at like 5am, I just wanted to come home so I did." I mumble, shrugging to myself.

"You've been at home this whole time?" He asks, sounding bewildered.

"Yeah, you were in my bed so I crashed out on yours." I explain. I'm greeted with a moment of silence before he curses under his breath.

"Why didn't you call me? I don't care what the time was, I would have come." He states and I smile at that.

"I know, but I'm glad I didn't. You looked tired." I argue lightly and he sighs.

"Up all night worrying about you." He grumbles, his breathing slightly more laboured now.

"Are you running?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.

"Yes, because my best friend is an idiot." He states, swiftly hanging up. How rude.

I grumble to myself as I sit up, struggling with the cast on my wrist. My torso is bruised and my head is hurting as I fish through my bag, retrieving the pills the hospital gave me.

I scan the instructions before swallowing two, thankful that these aren't nearly as strong as the stuff I was getting at the hospital. It was great and all, but I prefer to be able to think coherently. I lay back again, snuggling under Sam's duvet as I'm too tired to move.

I shouldn't feel so tired after doing so little, but I figure the more I sleep, the quicker I'll heal.

I can hear keys in the door downstairs and I sigh to myself, wondering if I should just feign to be asleep forever. Sam jogs up the stairs and nudges his door open, smiling breathlessly as his eyes land on me.

"Hey." He breathes, leaning against the door frame heavily. Sam doesn't run for anything.

"Hey." I mumble back, watching as he draws closer, eventually perching himself on the edge of his bed.

"How're you doing?" He asks, flicking my hair out of my eyes.

"I'm fine, they gave me pain killers." I say listlessly, glancing at the boxes. My eyes still feel so heavy and as much as I want to talk things through with Sam, I desperately don't want to do it now.

He opens his mouth to speak but I beat him to it, my eyes fluttering shut out of pure exhaustion.

"Can you yell at me later, Sam? Please, I'm so tired." I say softly, feeling defeated by this entire situation. He exhales deeply but doesn't say a word, only choosing to stroke a hand through my hair.

"I'll be here when you wake up." He assures. Normally I would find comfort from those words, but now all I feel is an ominous sense of dread. All I want is to prolong his rejection of my affection for as long as possible. Sleep is a welcome escape for this is the most pain Sam has ever caused me, which is ironic seeing as the connection was severed long ago.