Pain. That seemed to be the only thing that existed. You couldn't see anything, you couldn't hear anything, you doubted anything was even there. It was like you were underwater and an intense ringing was surrounding you. All you were aware of was this sharp and radiating pain stretching over your entire body. Then your blurry vision started to clear up. People and objects were starting to take shape, but it's not like you could do something about it. You could barely move.

Through the ringing, you started to hear voices. Some panicked, some stern. But all coming into focus nonetheless. You didn't recognize any of the murmuring around you, until one voice shone through the fog of muttering. Sam. His usually smooth, but now extremely distraught, voice filled your ears and it was enough to drag your eyelids open.

You were greeted with rough asphalt under your cheek and flashing blue and red lights. You could feel blood trickling down your face from...somewhere. Probably a head injury considering your head was throbbing with pain. Since each breath was labored and excruciating, you figured more than several ribs were broken. Before you could analyze yourself anymore, paramedics raced over and swarmed you.

You had trouble keeping your eyes open, but you had a general idea of what was going on. Between opening weighted eyelids, you saw people you'd never met gathering around the scene, and you saw the only guy you'd been looking for. He was being held back, barely, by paramedics and he was screaming at them to let him go, tears streaming down his face. The only thing you could do was barely lift two fingers in Sam's direction. That was also the last thing you could do before everything went dark.

Sam's POV

I can't believe I let this happen. I can't believe I let this happen. The same thoughts kept racing through my head, over and over again. The one girl I really love is in surgery and I'm in the damn lobby, forced to spend some quality time with my thoughts. But all I can think about is that footbridge in Pennsylvania. And how her eyes looked in the sun that day. How the wind whipped her hair around her face but she was still the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

I remember leaning against the railing, not having a clue as to what I should do next. And how distressed and upset I was, until I heard her voice. She'd asked me, a perfect stranger, what was wrong. I didn't know what to think at first, let alone how to respond. Then she said that even though she didn't know me, she knew a troubled look when she saw one. This was after I'd lost everyone close to me, and I wasn't looking for someone else to lose...but I fell for her. I fell for her hard. Now after thanking whatever god there is that I met her, I might lose her.

All I had to do was tell her. If I just told her, she wouldn't of run outside. She wouldn't have gotten hit by that car, and everything would be fine. What I wouldn't give for everything to just be fine. Why did I have to be so freakin' stubborn? Did I really value a stupid secret over the girl I loved? What the hell is wrong with me?! I've lost everything else, and now, when I finally had some control over the situation, I let her slip through my fingers?

I'd barely noticed the tears leaking from my eyes until her surgeon came into the lobby. Shaking hands ran through my hair and I stood up quicker than I ever had before. He explained how there was a massive trauma to her head, along with other internal injuries but she made it through surgery. An immense sigh escaped my lips, and as soon as he said she was awake, I sprinted for her room. I had to see her. I had to.

With her surgeon chasing after me, sounding like he was saying something, I screeched to halt in front of her room. Sure enough, she was laying in that hospital bed, but the breath caught in my lungs. She had cuts and bruises on her face and I couldn't help but think I caused this. Before too long, she caught my gaze and I couldn't stand out there any longer.

"Hey," I said gently with tears in my eyes as I moved closer to her. I reached her bedside and something was off. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something different.

"Hi..." she replied, a little unsure. I sighed with relief and grabbed onto her hand. I never wanted to let it go again.

"Y/N I'm so sorry...I'm so, so sorry," I choked out, tears crawling down my cheeks. "I should've told you, I'm just so sorry babe...please just tell me you feel fine, okay? That's all I need to know, just that you're okay..." She looked at me, but not like she used to. I didn't know what to think of it, until she spoke.

"I'm sorry..who are you?" Her voice was hesitant, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked at her with shattered eyes, never expecting to hear those words out of her mouth. But now I had. And it was the worst possible thing I could hear from her.

I didn't know who was pulling my back until I was in the hallway with the same utterly broken expression. The surgeon was in my face again, explaining how her brain injury resulted in some memory loss.

"Some? Some?! She doesn't know who I am! That's a hell of a lot more than some!" I shouted at him, not caring how many looks I got from hospital staff. He tried to tell me to calm down, but it didn't work. Not for a while. "I can't even think about being calm! The woman I love has no idea who I am! She doesn't remember any of it! Any of our time together...none of it..." I basically whispered, looking through the window to her room at the shell of Y/N. My Y/N. "It's my fault...it was my job to protect her and now..." my voice broke and I had to wipe more tears from my eyes. "I never got to tell her. I never got to tell her about who I was... I thought I was protecting her, keeping her safe but now she..now she's gone. She's here but, she's gone."

"Sir, I know it's difficult but this is a fragile time for her. So you need to go back in there and calmly explain your relation to her because otherwise she'll be more confused than she already is." The doctor "explained", motioning for me to go back in there. Every fiber of my body told me to go in there, to see her and talk to her. Tell her I loved her. I t was muscle memory. But that was clashing with the part of my brain sounding an alarm that this was all my fault.

I nodded, knowing exactly what to say. Knowing what she needed to hear in order to have a chance at a life again.

Using all the strength I had, I forced my feet back into her room. From her hospital bed, Y/N's eyes lit up when I walked in, but not in the same was as before. It wasn't with love, it was with curiosity. With tears brimming my eyes again, she asked me one more time.

"So, who are you?" Y/N, but not really Y/N, asked. Hearing her voice that distorted from the melodic tone it used to be was torture. All of this was torture. Pure agony, and pain. But I knew what I was about to do would be a million times worse.

I had to look her in the eye with a calm, friendly expression and say the words I never wanted to hear come from my mouth. "I'm no one. Not anymore."