Disclaimer: I don't own any character present in this story, sadly. Only borrowing them.

The truck came out of nowhere.

One moment I was there, sitting in the car next to my boyfriend, talking and laughing and reminiscing the incredible weekend we just spent together.

He had taken me on this delightful, romantic getaway in Martha's Vineyard. For three days we didn't do anything else but make love, walk hand in hand down the beach, whisper little nothings into each other's ears, wrapped as we were in the intimacy and comfort of our hotel's room. Two lovers, lost alone in a bubble far away from everything else. No nuisances, no external interferences. Just the two of us and the promise of a bright future together.

It has been a very sweet parenthesis in our otherwise mundane, hectic lives. The ones we have here, in Boston.

A long sigh escaped from my slightly parted lips as I propped my chin on the palm of my hand and turned my head to the right, gazing absentmindedly outside the window as we sped off on the slippery streets and into the night. He glanced at me and took my free hand, bringing it to his mouth and leaving a lingering kiss on each one of my knuckles; I closed my eyes and smiled contently, relishing these small gestures of affection.

I never imagined that I could ever have come so close to reach such a happiness in my life. It was a bless, feeling this loved. Loving so much in return.

But then, all it took for my world to literally turn upside down were a matter of seconds and a series of unfortunate coincidences.

The truck came out of nowhere and collided with the driver side of the sedan. The impact sent the Mercedes C300 spiraling out of control. It was too late to do anything: the last thing I saw before we jumped the guardrail and plummeted down the steep cliff was the huge tree in which proximity our car finally came to a halt.

The last thing I heard were the feeble whimpers and labored breaths of my boyfriend, as death quickly approached and staked its claim on him.

The last thing I remembered to feel were the cold drops of rain that gently hit my face, as if the sky was trying to wash away all the blood. All my tears.

Strangely enough, there was no pain. Then again, I am not a doctor so I really didn't know better. Yet I heard somewhere, in the past, that when you're dying, the body begins the final process of shutting down, so that you can't really feel anything anymore. It is natural. It is undramatic. It is the ultimate form of self-preservation and the supreme act of mercifulness.

Eventually, the last remnant of consciousness abandoned me and I fell into a deep, bottomless sleep. I didn't fight it.

[Massachusetts General Hospital – A week later]

It was the weirdest thing she ever experienced. Ever.

'Didn't I die in a car accident? Was it all in my head? Was it just a nightmare?'

For a split second hope dared to burst into her soul, but then something pushed her to ask herself why she felt like a train ran over her.

'Why I cannot wake up?'

Her eyelids felt so heavy as she unsuccessfully tried to blink them open; her head hurt like hell and she was so incredibly tired. Her body refused to move, and even something as trivial as moving a finger or just simply think resulted to be a too strenuous action at the moment.

She felt constricted. Her throat burned, her chest ached in dull pain and her senses were numbed.

'But I am slowly regaining perception, am I not? I am still alive, right?'

Otherwise, how else could she know, feel, all these things?

It could very well have been that her brain was playing tricks on her, but if that was the case how was it possible that she could feel the plastic material of the tubes and wires attached to her arm and all over her torso? How was it possible that she could hear the sound of a heart monitor, the vending of a breathing machine, and voices that she was sure she never heard before?

And, more importantly, why all of this was happening?

'Just what the hell is going on? Where am I? What happened? Where is he? Someone, please, tell me'

It was all too much to bear. Somewhere deep down, in her subconscious, she knew it would be a lot much easier if she would never wake up again. If she had just died in that damn car wreck. Before succumbing once again into sleep, she ruefully thought she missed her chance.

…

…

She didn't know how much time passed before she heard those annoying voices again.

"Hey, the nurse told me I'd found you here" a not so tall, relatively young doctor said as he walked inside the small room and approached his colleague. She stood by the window, her back leaning against the wall and her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance. She looked pensive, so much so that she didn't even acknowledge him. Not that it was that strange of a behavior on her part.

"Anything yet?" he asked, nodding towards the patient.

Spencer tore her eyes off of the bed where the young brunette was laying and turned her head slightly to look at the man. Her focus lingered for a moment on the ID's badge clipped to the chest pocket of his scrub's V-neck shirt.

"Dr. Wren Kingston, Head of Neurosurgery", the plastic tag recited.

It's been years, and yet there were times when she still felt the urge to laugh all her resentment and disbelief right in front of his boyish, arrogant face. How could he be so self-centered and presumptuous to go around in the hospital all proud, high and mighty, exhibiting a title that he never deserved, was beyond her comprehension.

"No, she hasn't woken up yet" she replied distantly. "Got any update?"

"We ran all the routine tests. Her EEG showed brain activity and minimal nerve damage. There's no reason to think she won't wake up soon" he informed.

"Good"

"I didn't know you were one of her attending doctors…" Dr. Kingston frowned slightly, as if the thought just occurred to him.

"I'm not" the tall woman replied unfazed, her voice laced with a sort of detached opacity.

"Then you shouldn't be here, Spencer" he said warningly.

"It's Dr. Hastings to you" she retorted, and her eyes narrowed menacingly. "And last time I checked, I didn't need a permit to see a patient. Least of all yours"

If he was taken aback by her attitude and hostility, he didn't show it. Nevertheless he stood there, regarding his colleague for a much longer time than necessary.

"Do you think will we ever be able to… overlook past our old quarrels? Or are you going to hold a grudge against me forever?"

Spencer didn't have time to reply – not that she was prone to go through that old dispute of theirs again. The loud alarm of the heart monitor screamed for help, effectively startling both doctors. They immediately rushed over to the young woman to check her vitals, already prepared to do everything and anything in their capability to reanimate her and keep her alive; only, the small brunette was not giving up on them. Her life was not in any immediate danger: she was instead waking up from her coma.

"Come on, Aria, wake up" a feminine husky voice prompted. "It's going to be alright, I promise. You just have to wake up. Come on"

And just like that, her eyes suddenly snapped open, as if all this time she had just been waiting for such a simple instruction. She frantically looked around as she soon realized that for some reason she couldn't speak, nor move. Then she noticed the tube stuck down in her throat and her eyes widened in panic.

"Hey, hey no, calm down. You're in a hospital but you're safe, I promise" the voice from earlier tried to sooth her. "You've been out for a while, Aria. And you couldn't breathe on your own. Hence all those scary things, here" A tall, slender woman in blue scrubs explained as she gestured to the set of machines that for some time now had practically been her life support system.

While talking, Spencer glanced down at her and their eyes met for the first time. The sight was enthralling, for both patient and doctor.

"But hey, the good thing is that, now that you're back, we can finally get rid of these tubes" Dr. Hastings smiled warmly, and there was an aura of gentleness around her that instantly put Aria at ease.

"Okay, so… shall we?" the other doctor in the room, a man, asked in a thick British accent.

Aria peeked briefly at him before turning her gaze once again on the woman, nodding slightly in consent.

"Very well" Spencer smiled once again. "I'm not going to lie, this will hurt a little" she said with a grimace; "But it'll pass soon. On the count of three I want you to cough as hard as you can, okay?"

Aria blinked her eyes in response and before she knew it, the good doctor freed her of the offensive item that was in her throat. Numerous violent coughs racked her small frame and pain coursed throughout her body.

"Easy there" the doctor cooed, as she slipped an oxygen mask on her face. "Just take deep breaths"

The intense agony she felt subsided after a few minutes, but the burning and itching remained. While she was occupied trying and getting used to the feeling of breathing independently, she observed the two surgeons discuss among themselves.

"Ms. Montgomery" the older of the two called her abruptly. "I know it's going to be difficult for you to talk, but I need to ask you a few question and I'd like to run ulterior tests and I'm afraid it's something that can't wait" he explained.

Somehow her face must have given away her anxiety and distress, because the other doctor glanced at her with the utmost sympathy.

"It's just routine" she interjected. "And Dr. Kingston here won't bother you for too long" she turned to glare at her fellow. "Alright then, I'll go now"

"Wait" Aria croaked. "Stay. Please"

"Um" the three of them exchanged uncomfortable glances, because there was really no reason for Spencer to stay in the room. She wasn't even her doctor – even if the young woman didn't know that. But the tiny brunette seemed so upset at the thought of her leaving that she abided.

"Okay" Dr. Hastings nodded, still a little dumbfounded by the unexpected request. "I'll stay"

The two women smiled hesitantly at each other, while Wren stood there observing their interactions with sharp eyes.

"Ahem" he cleared his throat after a stretching silence. "We should get started. Ms. Montgomery, can you tell me what is the last thing you remember?"

"I… I-I was in the car. A t-t-truck. Accident"

The neurosurgeon frowned. Her memory seemed intact, her speech on the contrary appeared to be afflicted. To what degree, he didn't know. Then again, it could have been simply the shock to momentarily restrict her faculties.

"We were c-coming back-" she stopped to take a few deep breaths, while a frightening feeling settled right in the pit of her stomach. "We were coming back from a trip. Where's he?"

Wren turned around to look at Spencer, only to find the brunette completely stunned. Her fists clenched tightly, as it was her jaw.

"WHERE IS EZRA?" Aria yelled, as much as her wounded throat allowed her. "Where is he?" She cried out loud.

"Aria…" Dr. Hastings began, but couldn't find it in herself to go on.

"No" the young woman shook her head. "No no no no"

"We did everything we could" Her eyes were downcast, boring holes into the ground. "I'm so sorry" Her voice was low and thick.

"Ezra" Aria whispered in tears.

"He didn't make it"

The words resonated loudly in the small hospital room, hitting the young brunette with the force of a wrecking-ball. Everything went still.

The heart monitor kept beeping in the background, creating a disturbing cacophony. For a moment Aria wondered if that was the sound of a broken heart.

A/N: So, this story kept popping in my head randomly and I finally decided to start writing it down and see where it leads. I have a general plot in mind, but I'm also open to suggestions – if you feel like leaving me any. I don't know when I'll be able to post the next chapter, so in the meantime thank you for reading.

P.S.: I don't know a thing about medicine. I try to make up my incompetence by reading and documenting, but I can't guarantee any accuracy. So every mistake is totally on me – obviously.